Extra Special Guest Author Post Featuring: Emily B.!

(Author's note: I haven't written a play in two years, but Mark is trapped somewhere and I was told not to let his dream die. And also to send him some pizza and a change of pants, but I ignored that part.)

LIGHTS UP

DREW
Look, I can see you're upset with the direction of the piece.

LIAM
I wrote a lovely, atmospheric play about a plucky young bulimic who makes a lot of mix tapes in Ireland and sends them to people on the internet who desperately need human connection in a sterile information age, some of whom have cancer and some of whom have wacky dogs and some of whom had fathers who never understood their dreams. And then they all learned something about life and wrote letters about it that their children read later.

DREW
Yes.

LIAM
It was lyric!

DREW
Yes.

LIAM
And what you've just shown me is two men dressed like robots jousting.

DREW
On miniature ponies. It's edgy.

LIAM
With their cocks.
(beat)
Actually, they're just kind of...fucking.

DREW
I might add some puppets later. Those wacky Japanese-y ones with the chalk faces.

LIAM
I just feel that gay porn is a little too intense for what I'm trying to convey.

DREW
You do get a lot in a small package.

LIAM
So to speak.

DREW
Indeed.

LIAM and DREW stare off into the middle distance. A CLARINET plays "Love for Sale".

LIAM
I don't know what Tom Stoppard's got that I don't.

LIGHTS DOWN

END PLAY