The Closet Playwright's Woe | Teen Ink

The Closet Playwright's Woe

September 7, 2019
By TikvahIndite BRONZE, Houston, Texas
TikvahIndite BRONZE, Houston, Texas
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

CHARACTERS:

Character. . . . perpetually stressed shoe-in for the playwright

Doubt . . . . .  the absolute worst ™ 

Mrs. K . . . . . to say who she is now would spoil a gag so no

Flat Joke . . .  [ERROR: NOT FOUND]

 

ACT 1 SCENE 1: AN EMPTY STAGE

(Enter CHARACTER and land center.) 

 

CHARACTER

(to audience)

            It is a common misconception that all plays are meant to be performed. They are not. Some plays, which fall under the blanket term ‘closet drama,’ are only meant to be read alone or aloud, but never performed. (chuckle) This is not a closet drama, as you can probably tell by my riveting performance, but it can be read alone or aloud. What’s a read-through, anyways? (chuckle) Well, that’s it for introductions. Without further ado, I welcome you to ‘The Closet Playwright’s Woe!’ 

 

(Bow and exit.)

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 1 SCENE 2: CHAIRS 

 

(Lights up. CHARACTER and DOUBT are sat at the chairs set center.)

 

CHARACTER

(to DOUBT)

            Fuck you, meta jokes are cool. 

 

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 1 SCENE 3: AN EMPTY STAGE II

 

(Lights up. Enter CHARACTER and MRS. K, sword fighting.)

 

MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

            Act 1, scene 2!

 

CHARACTER

(to MRS. K)

What about it?!

 

MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

You don’t need to curse!

 

CHARACTER

(to MRS. K)

If I don’t, this gag won’t make sense!

 

MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

It already won’t!

 

CHARACTER

(to MRS. K)

How so?!

 


MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

They don’t know I’m a surrogate for your teacher sponsor!

 

(The two stop fighting. CHARACTER smiles knowingly to the audience.)

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 1 SCENE 4: SINGLE CHAIR

 

(Lights up. Exhausted, CHARACTER rests on the chair set center. FLAT JOKE peeks out from behind a curtain.)

 

FLAT JOKE

(hissing, at CHARACTER)

One of these days, punk… I’ll get you… 

 

(CHARACTER leaps up, armed with a fog horn, which they blow.)

 

CHARACTER

(to FLAT JOKE)

Never! 

 

(FLAT JOKE shrinks away.)

 

CHARACTER

(to audience)

            Now remember: if a flat joke ever threatens to ruin your gag, all you have to do is whip out the old foghorn and kill the scene before it gets even worse. Just as a general rule of thumb, loud seldom equals funny, but it sure beats silence. Speaking of which, it is now time for intermission! In the words of the Amazing Spider-Man: pizza time. 

 

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 2 SCENE 1: ANOTHER EMPTY STAGE OH BOY

 

(Enter CHARACTER and land center.)

 

CHARACTER

(to audience)

            Welcome back. Provided you did not take a moment for intermission whether to make pizza or not, please proceed to ACT 2 SCENE 2: There is nothing for you here. If you did, what’s wrong with you? 

 

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 2 SCENE 2: FOUR CHAIRS

 

(CHARACTER and company have gathered center-stage on an arrangement of chairs a la group therapy.)

 

CHARACTER

(to group)

            All right, fellas, I’ve got fifteen minutes. Let’s get pitching!

 

MRS. K, DOUBT, FLAT JOKE

(to CHARACTER)

            More slapstick!

 

CHARACTER

(to group)

            No, no, no. This is act 2, people! Come on, we need some delivery on that set-up!

 

DOUBT

(to CHARACTER)

            What set-up?

 

CHARACTER 

(to DOUBT)

            Shut up. 

 

MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

            Doubting your work is only natural. 

 

CHARACTER

(to MRS. K)

            Are you saying that…

 

(CHARACTER rises and approaches the audience.)

 

(to audience)

 

            I should accept my work for the hilarious insight into the process of writing a closet drama it is?

 

MRS. K

(to CHARACTER)

            No, I’m saying to consider scrapping this scene. 

           

ACT 2 SCENE 3: EMPTY STAGE: THE FINAL JAM

 

(Lights up. CHARACTER paces back and forth, followed by DOUBT.)

 

CHARACTER

(to DOUBT)

            Fuck you. 

 

(A spotlight falls on DOUBT.)

 

DOUBT

(to audience)

            They’re not confident in that last gag. They shouldn’t be, either. It simply was not up to par with the entirety of the first act, and they know it. Still, they take it out on me, their own self-doubt, who is only here to elevate them and ensure that they produce something they are proud of. Even as they type, they are unsure of whether or not acknowledging folly is enough to justify its existence. Still yet, they continue to type. They are strong. I am prou-- 

 

(CHARACTER leaps into the spotlight and tackles DOUBT from behind, screaming. The two topple off the stage and into the audience, which immediately disperses.)

(Blackout.)

 

ACT 2 SCENE 4: APPARENTLY THAT LAST SCENE WASN’T THE FINAL JAM

 

(Lights up. CHARACTER stands center.)

 

CHARACTER

(to audience)

            A wise man once told me: “[ERROR: NAME NOT FOUND], my father, a wise man once told me, ‘[ERROR: NAME NOT FOUND], write what you know. Also, meta jokes aren’t funny, and they’re convoluted. It would be like telling a student of yours exactly what I’m saying right now only for them to write an entire script just to spite me. That would be too much meta for the person reading it.’” Well, I’m happy to say that my wise man’s father is dead now, and this is the end of my play. 

 

(Blackout.)


The author's comments:

The process of composing a closet drama come to life. 


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