Script Office Girls
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- Words: 5,525
- Pages: 33
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
1.
Based on true events, but fictional characters. Or maybe the other way around. Shit, I don't know. Scene One At Rise: The main lobby of The Strom Thurmond Institute on the campus of Clemson University in South Carolina. Night. The lights are low and the marbled room is portentously silent. The centerpiece of the room is a large framed portrait of Thurmond, leering at the viewer from a plush leather chair, flanked by his vapid and moonfaced granddaughters. PISSANT CRACKER enters, wearing a Clemson nametag reading "Arthur," gently wiping down the glass display cases. Suddenly, a terrible rumbling shakes the lobby. Pissant screams and clutches a pillar. A glowing green light behind the Thurmond portrait. The portrait's wooden frame splinters as THURMOND bursts out and through the glass display case. THURMOND Hells bells! Who here is disturbin' the goddamn eternal rest of goddamn Senator Strom goddamn Thurmond! There is a strange violation a-takin' place on my beloved campus! PISSANT CRACKER I...I'm sorry sir. I thought I was being quiet-THURMOND I don't mean you, you pissant cracker! I smell somethin' brewin' here. Smells...liberal. All liberal. Artsy, too. Boy, what time is it? PISSANT CRACKER Around ten. THURMOND The time of year, pissant cracker!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
2.
PISSANT CRACKER ...my name is Arthur... THURMOND I don't give a tinker's damn what your name is! You're wearin' this here name tag, that means you work for me! You hearin' me, boy? PISSANT CRACKER Oh yes sir! THURMOND Now tell me the time of year. PISSANT CRACKER Summer. The campus is near empty. THURMOND Hmm...they're here. I know it. PISSANT CRACKER Let's see...there's the Future Farmers of America-THURMOND (cackles) Hell boy, use your brain! It ain't pig shit I'm smelling. No...this is shit altogether different. Pretentious. High-minded. Cooperative. Probably a bunch of communists and homosexuals--it's un-American, is what it is! I won't stand for that! (pause) And if things ain't changed in this country, I believe I know where such people'd congregate... PISSANT CRACKER There's some people in the theatre building-THURMOND The theater! Hells bells, of course. I told them I wanted that there buildin' torn down, but they wouldn't listen. I said just tear it down, or at the very least name it after Ronald Reagan. Theater. Ha! Back in my day the word theater meant havin' to sit through three hours of boys in makeup talkin' to skulls and streetwalkers all gussied up and playing queens. Then a-tellin' me I'm dumb for not understandin'. Hell, I know symbols! I know what a cigar stands for--tobacco! A pleasant experience and a thriving economy! Now, what the hell is these theater people doing on my hollowed ground? PISSANT CRACKER It's called Wordbridge--
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
3.
THURMOND Hmm! I bet that's a symbol too! Why don't these hippies do something constructive with their lives and build a real bridge?! PISSANT CRACKER The school invites playwrights to come in, and I think they hire actors-THURMOND The school? The School?! You mean we are paying for these here degenerates to fool around and diddle themselves?! That's it! I don't wanna hear another word! Thurmond raises his hands. Lightning flashes--thunder booms. The lights flare that same disgusting green. PISSANT CRACKER (cowering) ...and it's been going on--going on for three years-THURMOND Not another word--three years? (pause) Hmm. Strange that I was not awoken by this invasion until now...there must be something different--no matter. You are a disgrace, Pissant Cracker! To have let this go on for three years! Have you forgotten everything taught to you in the Strom Thurmond Brand South Carolina Political Conditioning Compound? PISSANT CRACKER The what? THURMOND Oh shit, it's worse than I thought. Very well. You will have to do for now--bring me them playwrights. PISSANT CRACKER But sir they don't run the event-THURMOND But they be at the center of it! Drop the center out and what have you got! I say, I say bring them to me! PISSANT CRACKER Yessir. THURMOND And summon my army!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
4. PISSANT CRACKER
...how--How do I do that? THURMOND Oh for pete's--just get it done, I say! Pissant Cracker runs out. THURMOND (cont.) Hold on, boy! PISSANT CRACKER Yessir? THURMOND What year is it? PISSANT CRACKER 2009. THURMOND Who done won this last election? PISSANT CRACKER Um...(pause) I'm pretty sure...it was...McCain... THURMOND Well thank god at least somethin' done turned out right since I been gone. Run along now! Pissant Cracker exits. THURMOND (cont.) Summon my unholy army of the undead! My sturdy fightin' brothers, washed in hellfire and ready once again to fight the comin' onslaught of liberal harmony! (pause) Still. I am disturbed by my awakin' at this moment. I sense the presence of someone...someone who stands for everythin' I stood against. My greatest enemy. But can it be? No. No, it can't be! (pause) Never mind all that. Time to cultivate my powers. The seeds of liberalness have grown in too deep! I say we gotta cut these bastards off at the root! Nothing can stop me! I say nothing can stop me! He cackles. Green lightning flashes. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
5. Scene Two Outside the dorms where the Wordbridge playwrights are kept. Later that night. PLAYWRIGHT ONE, female; PLAYWRIGHT TWO, female; PLAYWRIGHT THREE, male. All three of them stand outside. Playwrights Two and Three drink beer out of tall plastic glasses. One furiously scribbles down everything anyone says.
ONE I can't drink. I have too many rewrites to do. TWO I drink because I have too many rewrites to do. THREE I rewrite hung-over. TWO Ah. ONE Interesting! THREE And I do just about everything else hung-over as well. ONE It's so great to be able to talk to other writers about their process! THREE Sure is. TWO Hear hear! They all three laugh, then quickly return to an uncomfortable and hostile silence. TWO Sometimes when I'm writing a play, I just stop eating until I finish the latest draft.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
6.
ONE I sometimes do that, but it's usually on purpose, like a hunger strike for Amnesty International. TWO I see. THREE I go to grad school, so I don't have money for both food and booze. ONE You should join Amnesty International. That way, your not eating anything can have a positive impact on the world. THREE No, I don't care for people. ONE Okay. TWO Sure. People do that too. More uncomfortable silence. THREE Well...I'm gonna go hit on the script office girls. ONE You really shouldn't do that. TWO Yeah, you oughta treat them with more respect. THREE Hey. All they do is make copies. When one of them saves my life, then maybe I'll think twice. Of course, something like that will never happen. Three laughs and exits into his dorm room. TWO What an asshole. ONE I know, right? And what the hell is his play about anyway?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
7.
TWO I know, right? You notice how his sentences just go on and on, and in weird like syntax things and that even in a conversation scene with like five other people--or even just two people talking--that his characters just keep on going on and on and no one ever gets interrupted like mid-thought. And he has all these like weird repetitive things--like you feel like he thinks it's gonna like mean something if he says the same stupid thing over and over again. Right? People don't talk like that. ONE People don't talk like that. BIRD MAN, a grizzled security guard, approaches them, flashlight in hand. ONE (cont.) Were we making noise? BIRD MAN No, not too much. TWO I've got my beer in a plastic glass, like we're supposed to. You can't just push us around like that, man. BIRD MAN Actually, ladies...this is about something else. Y'all are gonna have to come with me. TWO What for? BIRD MAN We're gonna have to detain you. ONE Wait a minute! On who's authority. BIRD MAN Young lady...on the highest authority. Strom Thurmond. ONE Strom Thurmond! (She makes a note) TWO You can't be serious! This is some fucking joke!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
8.
BIRD MAN I'd appreciate cooperation and this here'll all go real smooth. TWO Hey fuck you man! BIRD MAN I don't wanna have to use force against you. TWO Well there's two of us and only one of you! At this, a horde of REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS appears behind Bird Man, lurching menacingly toward the playwrights. One and Two scream as they are swept up into the custody of the horde. ONE But I have so many rewrites left to do toniiiiiight...! The door to Three's room opens. He sees this happening, and quickly closes the door. After the horde has disappeared and the noise has died down, Three slowly enters from his room--wide-eyed and shaky. THREE Holy shit. I gotta go tell someone-Three tries to escape, but runs directly into Bird Man, hiding behind a bush. BIRD MAN I figured there'd be three of you. Come along son, and don't make a fuss. THREE I don't even know what's going on! With his flashlight, Bird Man conks Three on the head, knocking him out. Bird Man looks at Three's prone body and shakes his head. BIRD MAN I'm sorry son. Hell...this is the part of the job I hate.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
9. He lifts Three onto his shoulder and carries him away. End of Scene.
Scene Three The Script Office. The next morning. RITA and JAYNE, scurry back and forth between the many laptops set up, pouring through reams and reams of paper. RITA This is weird. JAYNE This is really weird. RITA This is hella weird. JAYNE Did you hear all that lightning last night? That was creepy as shit. RITA You don't hear lightning. You see it. You hear thunder. If I was a dramaturg I'd say that-JAYNE I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! LORNA storms in through the office door.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
10.
LORNA Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on and they better do it right now! RITA We can't find any of the playwrights yet! JAYNE Where could they have gone?! LORNA Well that's our fucking job, right? To find out things like that! We're the goddamn researchers, so let's research, alright? RITA But they could be anywhere-LORNA But they are somewhere. JAYNE We're working our asses off, boss. LORNA Well then start working your tits off too! Shit! Three whole playwrights all of a sudden missing--it doesn't make sense! And in South Carolina--who would want three playwrights in South Carolina. JAYNE We'll figure it out. LORNA Well we better, or we're all fucked. I swear to God when I find those three fuckers I'm gonna kick their asses--Pittsburgh style! Jayne and Rita roll their eyes. HANK enters, hobbling slowly with a cane. HANK Sorry I'm late. I hate this town. There's too many hills! I have gout, doesn't anybody understand that? LORNA Hank you sack of crap!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
11. HANK
So what's going on? JAYNE Where have you been? RITA The playwrights have gone missing! No one knows what to do! The actors are wandering around, playing mirror games with actual mirrors! The dramaturgs are all fighting each other out under that big tree! And the directors--my God, the directors! This is madness! No one's eating the food! HANK Oh. Snap. LORNA Once again you're fucking late to the party. HANK I told you--the hills! The gout! My foot! LORNA I'm gonna cut that foot off--Pittsburgh style! HANK The playwrights are missing? How'd that happen? LORNA That's what we're currently trying to find out! You--wait a minute. Lift up your cane. Hank lifts up his cane. Stuck to it is a dirty sheet of paper. HANK I must have picked that up somewhere on my walk over here. I'm always picking up trash--because of the cane. RITA I thought that was because of your cologne. JAYNE Oh shit! Zing! LORNA Shut up, all of youns. This is a research request form. It says...Strom Thurmond?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
12.
What the hell? From outside, screams and moans. The sounds of destruction and people running. RITA What's that? Jayne looks outside. JAYNE Everybody's running for their lives--there's all these...it looks like a bunch of old white men! My God, it is! Really really old white guys! Shorts and dark socks everywhere! The way they're moving--so slow and lumbering--they're like--like-RITA Zombies! Jayne screams. Hank bursts into tears. LORNA Shut the door! Barricade it with the boxes of paper! Rita, start calling everybody on the call list! Hank for fuck's sake get a hold of yourself! HANK I'm scared of zombies. I'm scare of zombies. Hank hugs Rita and buries his face in her cleavage. She throws him across the room. LORNA We're gonna figure out what the hell's going on right now! This has all gotta be connected...the playwrights...the zombies...and this. She holds up the research request. LORNA (cont.) Strom Thurmond. I think we should start here--Pittsburgh style. Suddenly, all the power goes out. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
13. Scene Four Strom Thurmond's crypt. ONE, TWO, and THREE bound and gagged against a column. BIRD MAN stands guard in front of them. THURMOND enters, with PISSANT CRACKER following three steps back.
THURMOND Well now, let's see what we got. Playwrights, huh? Writin' plays. What the hell good does that too? Why don't y'all get a real job!? You keep an eye on 'em, Bird Man. BIRD MAN Yessir. Thurmond turns away from them. Pissant follows. THURMOND These here small fries ain't worth a pot of piss. There's someone else here. PISSANT CRACKER Who? THURMOND I don't know, pissant cracker! No...there's someone here. The greatest enemy of everything Strom Thurmond has ever stood for! No...not him. But someone close...a child, perhaps. PISSANT CRACKER I seen a child! Sir, I seen a child! THURMOND Here? Right now? PISSANT CRACKER Yes sir--the daughter of one of these theatre people! THURMOND Bring her to me! Right now! Bring that child to me! Bring her to me so that I might finally vanquish my foe and all his dreams of freedom and cursed truthtelling. And the swearin'! By God, why does everybody think they have to be swearin' all the time? Go, Pissant Cracker! Fly before me!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
14. Pissant runs away.
THURMOND (cont.) Now I must prepare myself...for the ritual! He exits. One, Two, and Three all look at Bird Man. Bird Man looks away, trying to ignore them. BIRD MAN Y'all brought this on yourselves. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) Hell, I don't even go to the theater! I like Westerns! Can't ride a horse across a theater stage. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) I ain't got nothing against you personal. (Pause) The Senator done told me--and he's the boss! (Pause) Hell, I can't be talking to myself-Bird Man takes the gags out of the playwrights' mouths. ONE What are we doing here? TWO What did he mean? What ritual? BIRD MAN I don't know. ONE There's gotta be a reason why he's doing this. TWO Yeah, like what makes this night different from any other night? ONE Yeah, and what does he want to accomplish from all this? BIRD MAN Huh. I don't really know. Seems like he's just doing it to...do it. TWO Oh. Really? BIRD MAN I guess I ain't too clear on what's happening either.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
15. ONE
That's bad writing. TWO It's not bad so much as just lazy. ONE Yeah, it's lazy--but I'm gonna go ahead and say bad. THREE You can't say bad and Wordbridge. TWO Lucky for you. Bird Man laughs. ONE That was a good one! I wish I could write it down! BIRD MAN Well...that was a good one...I suppose I could write it down for you. Bird Man picks up a sheet of paper and writes on it. THREE Hey...I'm writing a Western. A play. BIRD MAN Really? THREE Yeah. And you don't even need horses. Here--lemme tell you what I've got so far. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
16. Scene Five The Script Office. The power is still out. Laptops and cell phones are laid out everywhere for light. LORNA sits at her laptop in grim concentration. Frustrated, she stands and punches a hole in the wall. JAYNE pours papers out of the recycling bin and sifts through them. RITA stares wistfully at the autographed poster of ROBERT GOULET hanging on the wall. HANK is curled up in the fetal position.
RITA Bobby Goo, tell us what to do. Tell us what to do, Bobby Goo. JAYNE He's not gonna talk, Rita. RITA I know what I heard! LORNA Both of you shut the hell up! Thurmond...zombies...Wordbridge...what's the connection? JAYNE I don't know, but we don't have much longer before the batteries die on the laptops and then we're in the dark again. LORNA Damnit! Hank! HANK What? LORNA Get out that and turn the power back on. HANK Why would you think I know how to do that? Plus, there's zombies! LORNA Look up how to do it and then do it! Jesus!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
17.
HANK I'm really kinda tired and stressed out right now-LORNA I will gouge out your eyes and piss on your brain! Hank quickly sits down at a laptop and starts looking at things. JAYNE Wait a minute! Strom Thurmond! That big creepy underground thing with all the steps! RITA Oh that's right! LORNA The Strom Thurmond Institute! JAYNE What's down there? HANK I'm gonna go dodge zombies and turn on the power in this building...just in case anyone cares where I'm going... LORNA I'll tell you what's down there. RITA What? HANK ...anyone care at all…? JAYNE All his papers and shit. LORNA Not just that-RITA (gasps) No! HANK ...bye everybody...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
18. Hank hobbles out. LORNA
He's down there. RITA No! JAYNE Really? LORNA Yes. JAYNE Could it be that-LORNA Strom Thurmond commands a zombie army of white guys-RITA And has kidnapped our playwrights-JAYNE In some sort of scheme to-LORNA Rule the world-RITA From beyond-JAYNE The-LORNA Grave? JAYNE God, it's so obvious! RITA What are we gonna do? LORNA No dead racist is gonna steal my playwrights! Not on my watch!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
19. Pounding and clawing at the door, low phlegmy moans from outside. The girls scream! JAYNE
Zombies! RITA Hide! LORNA Grab something! Grab anything you can find! She grabs a large paper cutter and rips the blade off, wielding it like a machete. Jayne digs through her bookbag and pulls out a rubber mallet. LORNA (cont.) What do you have that for? JAYNE My bed was too high. The door breaks apart and the HORDE OF REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS barrels through. Rita cowers, clutching the Goulet poster. As they advance toward her, she thrusts it out in front of her like a shield. Suddenly, the sonorous VOICE of Robert Goulet springs forth from the poster--"Some Enchanted Evening," or perhaps "The Impossible Dream." At these dulcet tones, the horde stops moving. Expressions of nostalgic calm wash across their faces. RITA It worked! I knew it! Oh Bobby Goo, I love you! She kisses the poster. Goulet winks at her. LORNA Get 'em--Pittsburgh style! The laptops and cell phones all die at once.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
20. The stage is completely dark. We hear the sounds of intense action with Goulet singing over it all. Suddenly, the power is restored and the room is fully lit once again. Lorna, Jayne, and Rita stand in triumph above a heap of motionless old men.
RITA Hells yes! Zombies can suck my vag! JAYNE Hey--wait a minute. LORNA What is it? JAYNE These aren't zombies at all. RITA They're not? JAYNE I don't think so. I know my zombies. LORNA You mean we just killed a bunch of really old white guys? JAYNE Yeah. RITA Oh. LORNA We should maybe keep that to ourselves. Script Office Secret. JAYNE Script Office Secret. RITA Script Office Secret.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
21. LORNA
Let's get the hell outta here. They run out of the office. End of Scene.
Scene Six Elsewhere in the building. An empty hallway. Baby LOTUS and her plush MONKEY sit alone. HANK enters, hobbling. HANK ...I hope they know how much work that took...and the danger...and my foot...and other shit. I hope they tell me what a hero I am-He sees Lotus. HANK (cont.) Oh no, baby Lotus! It's too dangerous for you to be out here alone. Let's get you to the script office. Behind Hank, the moan of a zombie. He spins around in fear. While his back is turned, PISSANT CRACKER runs in, snatches Lotus, and exits. Hank turns around to find only Monkey in front of him. HANK (cont.) Oops. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
22. Scene Seven Strom Thurmond's crypt. A kind of unholy altar has been set up. Atop is sits baby LOTUS. THURMOND, dressed now in a long white ceremonial gown, studies her.
THURMOND Look at you. I wager you don't even know who you are yet. Just a little baby, same as all them other little babies. Bah! Babies. Got no use for 'em. Got no use for anybody who ain't old enough to hold a job or vote Republican! But look at you, little baby. You got inside you everything that I hate! Miscegenation! Equality! Freedom of speech--what the hell does that even mean! You people's just guests in this country--my country!--and y'all about to be kicked right on outta here. Using this country like a doormat--watch out that door don't hit you in the ass on the way out! Fruity liberal types who think the Republican party is some big monster thing! There ain't nothing large about us! We don't do nothing but govern what people's a-doin' with their own bodies! Everything else is left up to itself. Government can't get much smaller than that! No sir! No sir indeed! Then you people...with your plays criticizing the good wars and holding up the degenerates of this country for the world to see. World don't need to see that! No sir. And I say, I say I don't find comedians to be very funny at all! God ain't never intended us to laugh! Life is work! Ain't nothin' else! Laughin' weakens the soul. Like soliciting a prostitute--might be fun, but it'll cost you! (pause) But you...people. If I can even stand to call you people--you'll get yours one day, and that day's a comin' round the bend. See...little baby...I do got some use for you. I am a-gonna steal the life right on outta you! I'm a-gonna steal my enemies' strength and use it against them to rule this here country from beyond the grave! Strom's gonna rise again! Thurmond cackles and lightning flashes. Lotus seems unimpressed. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
23. Scene Eight The hallway. HANK on all fours, crawling around. MONKEY sits against the wall nearby.
HANK Lotus! Baby Lotus! Shit, where could she have gone? Lorna's gonna kill me...Pittsburgh style. LORNA, RITA, and JAYNE enter with their weapons. LORNA Hank, what the hell? HANK I turned the power back on! JAYNE Shit, we don't need no lights to kill zombies! RITA Fuck no, we don't! They high-five. LORNA Wait a minute--where's Lotus? HANK I don't know! I saw her and then I turned around for just a second and she was gone. I mean, she's really small, so she can't have gotten far. JAYNE Wait a minute--her Monkey's still here! RITA Wait a minute! (Pause. They wait for her to continue.) Oh sorry. I thought we--we were--playing like a "wait a minute"--thing--you know what, forget it. The Monkey! LORNA She wouldn't have left her Monkey--unless...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
24. JAYNE
Unless she was kidnapped! RITA Kidnapped by the zombies? LORNA No, not zombies. A zombie couldn't do this-JAYNE No, it must be some kind of-RITA Helper or servant or-LORNA Pissant-JAYNE And he's probably white-RITA Yeah probably. LORNA Yeah. Probably. And he must have-JAYNE Taken her to-RITA The Strom-JAYNE Thurmond-LORNA Institute! HANK We gotta save her! LORNA Things might get a little hairy out there. (Points to the cane.) You know how to use that thing?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
25. Hank twirls the cane impressively.
LORNA (Rolls her eyes.) Jesus...okay! Let's get the hell outta here. Hank, grab Monkey. HANK Why do I have to-JAYNE and RITA I will fuck you up, I swear to God! Hank picks up Monkey and they all run out.
Scene Nine The crypt. ONE, TWO, and THREE are still tied up, but BIRD MAN sits on the floor with One's notepad, taking notes as they talk. THREE So the idea is like the building of civilization-ONE Yeah. THREE Because every Western is a creation story, you know it's like, um... TWO Shit coming from nothing-ONE Yeah, and the good guys defeating the bad guys, it's like it's the first time that that's ever happened in the world.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
26.
BIRD MAN Hmm. That's a real smart way of lookin' at things, I gotta hand it to you. So in a Western, hell, you don't even need horses! You just need people! THREE That's what the theatre is all about. BIRD MAN I ain't never thought about it in such a way. (pause) Hell, you wouldn't even need cowboy hats. You could even use other kinds of hats from them old days, like derbys and such. ONE That's a pretty good idea. TWO Yeah. Hey Bird Man, you could be a dramaturg. BIRD MAN What's a dramaturg do? TWO As little as possible. One laughs. THREE Hey-oh! TWO Yeah but seriously, no one knows what a dramaturg does. Not even most dramaturgs. BIRD MAN Do you at least make a decent living at it? All four of them break into gales of hearty, genuine laughter. BIRD MAN (cont.) You know what, y'all? I hate doing this kinda work. I never fit in with these here people. And some days I just wish I was some place else...and today is one of those days. (Pause) Alright, I'm through with this shit! Bird Man stands and starts untying the playwrights.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
27. ONE
What's going on? BIRD MAN I'm setting y'all free and we're getting on outta here. I don't work for no Strom Thurmond no more! THURMOND appears. THURMOND I heard my name! The playwrights scream. PISSANT CRACKER enters with the HORDE OF REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS. PISSANT CRACKER Stop right there! Bird Man what in the hell do you think you're doing! BIRD MAN I'm taking these young people outta here! I'm quitting my post and if any of y'all gets any funny ideas to try and stop us, y'all gonna feel the business end of this here flashlight! Thurmond, I've had it up to here with your hatefulness and prejudice! These ain't bad people! These are good people and they do good things! Hell, there ain't nothing like entertainment! Thurmond raises his hands. The green lightning flashes and covers Bird Man. He collapses to the ground, dead. The playwrights gasp. Three falls to his knees. THREE (to the heavens) BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDD MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THURMOND Now that that shit's outta the way, it is time for The Ritual! Bound those whippersnappers! The Horde grabs the playwrights. PISSANT CRACKER Everything is prepared, master.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
28. THURMOND
Excellent. Bring me...The Child. Pissant Cracker exits, returns with LOTUS in his arms. He sets her upon the altar. THURMOND (cont.) I say I say let this Ritual begin! Thurmond raises his hands. Rumbles, lightning flashes! He intones in an ancient, unspeakable language. ONE This is really bad, guys. TWO Yeah it is. Hey...do you hear something? THREE Yeah, it kinda sounds like... ONE and TWO Robert Goulet? At this, one of the crypt walls crashes apart! The silken syllables of Robert Goulet overpower the Horde as the SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS (and HANK, with MONKEY) ride onstage on a tractor reading "Future Farmers of America" on its side. Weapons drawn, they jump off the tractor and strike a fearsome pose. LORNA If you touch one hair on that baby's head I cut out your heart, dip it in ranch dressing, and eat it at the barbecue on Sunday! HANK (shocked) Holy shit, Lorna... JAYNE and RITA Shut up.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
29.
THURMOND I say that's some big talk, missy. Let's see what my unholy minions got to say about that! Get 'em, boys! The Horde doesn't move. PISSANT CRACKER Get them! What's the matter with you! JAYNE Keep it up, Bobby Goo! Thurmond raises his arms. Green light down on the Goulet poster. It falls apart in Rita's arms. The other girls gasp. She falls to her knees. RITA (to the heavens) BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! THURMOND Attack! The Horde attacks. A battle rages--Lorna fighting with her machete, Jayne with her mallet, Hank with his cane, and Rita with fists of fury. The playwrights cower in abject terror, as they are wont to do. Thurmond continues his Ritual as the battle rages. Lorna tries to battle through the horde and get to the altar. Pissant Cracker grabs Jayne by the shoulders. She struggles. PISSANT CRACKER You're not going anywhere! I'm far too strong for you! Jayne contorts her body and wriggles out of his grasp. She mallets his head. JAYNE
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
30.
Yoga, bitch! One of the Horde has Rita pinned to the wall. She kicks him in the crotch and he keels over. RITA Nuts! The Horde is defeated! Lorna has made it to the altar. Thurmond crosses between she and Lotus. THURMOND Hold it right there missy! You come just about far enough! You take one step closer and this little girl is dead! JAYNE Oh shit! What are we gonna do? RITA I miss Bobby Goo! THURMOND I could use a young missy like you to carry out my will. LORNA I already got a job. THURMOND This one pays better than you could imagine. What do you say? LORNA I say we don't work for the fucking pay! The Script Office Girls cheer! THURMOND You're already too late. The Ritual is nearly done and with one touch of my finger I will steal this baby's life force and rule this country forever! The evil green light floods the entire stage! Thurmond slowly pushes his withered, decrepit finger toward Lotus.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
31. Monkey, still in Hank's hands, suddenly speaks. MONKEY
Throw me up there! HANK What?! MONKEY I said throw me up there, motherfucker! Hank throws Monkey toward the altar. Lorna catches it. Lotus laughs and claps her hands. THURMOND What in tarnation?! MONKEY Hey what's the difference between an old white man and an outhouse? One's full of shit--and the other's an outhouse! Thurmond giggles. A moment. He laughs louder. Then louder. Soon his entire body is convulsing with high shrieks of laughter. The crypt starts to shake. The walls start to come down. Thurmond's grows louder and more destructive. Lorna grabs Lotus and they jump down. LORNA Take cover--Pittsburgh style! The CRYPT COMES CRASHING DOWN! A moment passes, and the Script Office Girls emerge from their cover. RITA Is everyone okay? HANK My foot--I mean, I'm fine.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
32. JAYNE
Is baby Lotus alright? LORNA She's good. Where are the playwrights? ONE We're here! TWO That was amazing! THREE I think my arms have been crushed! LORNA Whatever. Suddenly, Thurmond bursts out of a pile of rubble. The playwrights scream! Thurmond can't bring himself to stand. He collapses, near death. THURMOND Who...who are all of y'all? Lorna approaches, puts a leg up on his pile of rubble. She sticks a lit cigar in her mouth. LORNA We're the Script Office Girls. Thurmond disappears back into the darkness from which he came. Everyone cheers! HANK I LOVE THIS TOWN!! JAYNE Hey...what time is it? RITA 11:30.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
33. MONKEY
We gonna pitch a bitch at 11:30! DANCE MUSIC STARTS. The girls dance and celebrate. Lotus hugs Monkey and claps along with the music. Suddenly, DAVE WHITE enters. The music stops. DAVE WHITE I've been looking everywhere for guys! LORNA We've been a little fucking busy! DAVE WHITE I need your help. JAYNE What's the matter? DAVE WHITE You guys need to find something. Immediately. RITA What do you need to find? DAVE WHITE Gold. HANK Gold? DAVE WHITE Solid Gold! THE END!!! The Script Office Girls will return in... SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS: THE LEGEND OF CHARNEY'S GOLD Coming Soon!
1.
Based on true events, but fictional characters. Or maybe the other way around. Shit, I don't know. Scene One At Rise: The main lobby of The Strom Thurmond Institute on the campus of Clemson University in South Carolina. Night. The lights are low and the marbled room is portentously silent. The centerpiece of the room is a large framed portrait of Thurmond, leering at the viewer from a plush leather chair, flanked by his vapid and moonfaced granddaughters. PISSANT CRACKER enters, wearing a Clemson nametag reading "Arthur," gently wiping down the glass display cases. Suddenly, a terrible rumbling shakes the lobby. Pissant screams and clutches a pillar. A glowing green light behind the Thurmond portrait. The portrait's wooden frame splinters as THURMOND bursts out and through the glass display case. THURMOND Hells bells! Who here is disturbin' the goddamn eternal rest of goddamn Senator Strom goddamn Thurmond! There is a strange violation a-takin' place on my beloved campus! PISSANT CRACKER I...I'm sorry sir. I thought I was being quiet-THURMOND I don't mean you, you pissant cracker! I smell somethin' brewin' here. Smells...liberal. All liberal. Artsy, too. Boy, what time is it? PISSANT CRACKER Around ten. THURMOND The time of year, pissant cracker!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
2.
PISSANT CRACKER ...my name is Arthur... THURMOND I don't give a tinker's damn what your name is! You're wearin' this here name tag, that means you work for me! You hearin' me, boy? PISSANT CRACKER Oh yes sir! THURMOND Now tell me the time of year. PISSANT CRACKER Summer. The campus is near empty. THURMOND Hmm...they're here. I know it. PISSANT CRACKER Let's see...there's the Future Farmers of America-THURMOND (cackles) Hell boy, use your brain! It ain't pig shit I'm smelling. No...this is shit altogether different. Pretentious. High-minded. Cooperative. Probably a bunch of communists and homosexuals--it's un-American, is what it is! I won't stand for that! (pause) And if things ain't changed in this country, I believe I know where such people'd congregate... PISSANT CRACKER There's some people in the theatre building-THURMOND The theater! Hells bells, of course. I told them I wanted that there buildin' torn down, but they wouldn't listen. I said just tear it down, or at the very least name it after Ronald Reagan. Theater. Ha! Back in my day the word theater meant havin' to sit through three hours of boys in makeup talkin' to skulls and streetwalkers all gussied up and playing queens. Then a-tellin' me I'm dumb for not understandin'. Hell, I know symbols! I know what a cigar stands for--tobacco! A pleasant experience and a thriving economy! Now, what the hell is these theater people doing on my hollowed ground? PISSANT CRACKER It's called Wordbridge--
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
3.
THURMOND Hmm! I bet that's a symbol too! Why don't these hippies do something constructive with their lives and build a real bridge?! PISSANT CRACKER The school invites playwrights to come in, and I think they hire actors-THURMOND The school? The School?! You mean we are paying for these here degenerates to fool around and diddle themselves?! That's it! I don't wanna hear another word! Thurmond raises his hands. Lightning flashes--thunder booms. The lights flare that same disgusting green. PISSANT CRACKER (cowering) ...and it's been going on--going on for three years-THURMOND Not another word--three years? (pause) Hmm. Strange that I was not awoken by this invasion until now...there must be something different--no matter. You are a disgrace, Pissant Cracker! To have let this go on for three years! Have you forgotten everything taught to you in the Strom Thurmond Brand South Carolina Political Conditioning Compound? PISSANT CRACKER The what? THURMOND Oh shit, it's worse than I thought. Very well. You will have to do for now--bring me them playwrights. PISSANT CRACKER But sir they don't run the event-THURMOND But they be at the center of it! Drop the center out and what have you got! I say, I say bring them to me! PISSANT CRACKER Yessir. THURMOND And summon my army!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
4. PISSANT CRACKER
...how--How do I do that? THURMOND Oh for pete's--just get it done, I say! Pissant Cracker runs out. THURMOND (cont.) Hold on, boy! PISSANT CRACKER Yessir? THURMOND What year is it? PISSANT CRACKER 2009. THURMOND Who done won this last election? PISSANT CRACKER Um...(pause) I'm pretty sure...it was...McCain... THURMOND Well thank god at least somethin' done turned out right since I been gone. Run along now! Pissant Cracker exits. THURMOND (cont.) Summon my unholy army of the undead! My sturdy fightin' brothers, washed in hellfire and ready once again to fight the comin' onslaught of liberal harmony! (pause) Still. I am disturbed by my awakin' at this moment. I sense the presence of someone...someone who stands for everythin' I stood against. My greatest enemy. But can it be? No. No, it can't be! (pause) Never mind all that. Time to cultivate my powers. The seeds of liberalness have grown in too deep! I say we gotta cut these bastards off at the root! Nothing can stop me! I say nothing can stop me! He cackles. Green lightning flashes. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
5. Scene Two Outside the dorms where the Wordbridge playwrights are kept. Later that night. PLAYWRIGHT ONE, female; PLAYWRIGHT TWO, female; PLAYWRIGHT THREE, male. All three of them stand outside. Playwrights Two and Three drink beer out of tall plastic glasses. One furiously scribbles down everything anyone says.
ONE I can't drink. I have too many rewrites to do. TWO I drink because I have too many rewrites to do. THREE I rewrite hung-over. TWO Ah. ONE Interesting! THREE And I do just about everything else hung-over as well. ONE It's so great to be able to talk to other writers about their process! THREE Sure is. TWO Hear hear! They all three laugh, then quickly return to an uncomfortable and hostile silence. TWO Sometimes when I'm writing a play, I just stop eating until I finish the latest draft.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
6.
ONE I sometimes do that, but it's usually on purpose, like a hunger strike for Amnesty International. TWO I see. THREE I go to grad school, so I don't have money for both food and booze. ONE You should join Amnesty International. That way, your not eating anything can have a positive impact on the world. THREE No, I don't care for people. ONE Okay. TWO Sure. People do that too. More uncomfortable silence. THREE Well...I'm gonna go hit on the script office girls. ONE You really shouldn't do that. TWO Yeah, you oughta treat them with more respect. THREE Hey. All they do is make copies. When one of them saves my life, then maybe I'll think twice. Of course, something like that will never happen. Three laughs and exits into his dorm room. TWO What an asshole. ONE I know, right? And what the hell is his play about anyway?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
7.
TWO I know, right? You notice how his sentences just go on and on, and in weird like syntax things and that even in a conversation scene with like five other people--or even just two people talking--that his characters just keep on going on and on and no one ever gets interrupted like mid-thought. And he has all these like weird repetitive things--like you feel like he thinks it's gonna like mean something if he says the same stupid thing over and over again. Right? People don't talk like that. ONE People don't talk like that. BIRD MAN, a grizzled security guard, approaches them, flashlight in hand. ONE (cont.) Were we making noise? BIRD MAN No, not too much. TWO I've got my beer in a plastic glass, like we're supposed to. You can't just push us around like that, man. BIRD MAN Actually, ladies...this is about something else. Y'all are gonna have to come with me. TWO What for? BIRD MAN We're gonna have to detain you. ONE Wait a minute! On who's authority. BIRD MAN Young lady...on the highest authority. Strom Thurmond. ONE Strom Thurmond! (She makes a note) TWO You can't be serious! This is some fucking joke!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
8.
BIRD MAN I'd appreciate cooperation and this here'll all go real smooth. TWO Hey fuck you man! BIRD MAN I don't wanna have to use force against you. TWO Well there's two of us and only one of you! At this, a horde of REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS appears behind Bird Man, lurching menacingly toward the playwrights. One and Two scream as they are swept up into the custody of the horde. ONE But I have so many rewrites left to do toniiiiiight...! The door to Three's room opens. He sees this happening, and quickly closes the door. After the horde has disappeared and the noise has died down, Three slowly enters from his room--wide-eyed and shaky. THREE Holy shit. I gotta go tell someone-Three tries to escape, but runs directly into Bird Man, hiding behind a bush. BIRD MAN I figured there'd be three of you. Come along son, and don't make a fuss. THREE I don't even know what's going on! With his flashlight, Bird Man conks Three on the head, knocking him out. Bird Man looks at Three's prone body and shakes his head. BIRD MAN I'm sorry son. Hell...this is the part of the job I hate.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
9. He lifts Three onto his shoulder and carries him away. End of Scene.
Scene Three The Script Office. The next morning. RITA and JAYNE, scurry back and forth between the many laptops set up, pouring through reams and reams of paper. RITA This is weird. JAYNE This is really weird. RITA This is hella weird. JAYNE Did you hear all that lightning last night? That was creepy as shit. RITA You don't hear lightning. You see it. You hear thunder. If I was a dramaturg I'd say that-JAYNE I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! LORNA storms in through the office door.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
10.
LORNA Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on and they better do it right now! RITA We can't find any of the playwrights yet! JAYNE Where could they have gone?! LORNA Well that's our fucking job, right? To find out things like that! We're the goddamn researchers, so let's research, alright? RITA But they could be anywhere-LORNA But they are somewhere. JAYNE We're working our asses off, boss. LORNA Well then start working your tits off too! Shit! Three whole playwrights all of a sudden missing--it doesn't make sense! And in South Carolina--who would want three playwrights in South Carolina. JAYNE We'll figure it out. LORNA Well we better, or we're all fucked. I swear to God when I find those three fuckers I'm gonna kick their asses--Pittsburgh style! Jayne and Rita roll their eyes. HANK enters, hobbling slowly with a cane. HANK Sorry I'm late. I hate this town. There's too many hills! I have gout, doesn't anybody understand that? LORNA Hank you sack of crap!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
11. HANK
So what's going on? JAYNE Where have you been? RITA The playwrights have gone missing! No one knows what to do! The actors are wandering around, playing mirror games with actual mirrors! The dramaturgs are all fighting each other out under that big tree! And the directors--my God, the directors! This is madness! No one's eating the food! HANK Oh. Snap. LORNA Once again you're fucking late to the party. HANK I told you--the hills! The gout! My foot! LORNA I'm gonna cut that foot off--Pittsburgh style! HANK The playwrights are missing? How'd that happen? LORNA That's what we're currently trying to find out! You--wait a minute. Lift up your cane. Hank lifts up his cane. Stuck to it is a dirty sheet of paper. HANK I must have picked that up somewhere on my walk over here. I'm always picking up trash--because of the cane. RITA I thought that was because of your cologne. JAYNE Oh shit! Zing! LORNA Shut up, all of youns. This is a research request form. It says...Strom Thurmond?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
12.
What the hell? From outside, screams and moans. The sounds of destruction and people running. RITA What's that? Jayne looks outside. JAYNE Everybody's running for their lives--there's all these...it looks like a bunch of old white men! My God, it is! Really really old white guys! Shorts and dark socks everywhere! The way they're moving--so slow and lumbering--they're like--like-RITA Zombies! Jayne screams. Hank bursts into tears. LORNA Shut the door! Barricade it with the boxes of paper! Rita, start calling everybody on the call list! Hank for fuck's sake get a hold of yourself! HANK I'm scared of zombies. I'm scare of zombies. Hank hugs Rita and buries his face in her cleavage. She throws him across the room. LORNA We're gonna figure out what the hell's going on right now! This has all gotta be connected...the playwrights...the zombies...and this. She holds up the research request. LORNA (cont.) Strom Thurmond. I think we should start here--Pittsburgh style. Suddenly, all the power goes out. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
13. Scene Four Strom Thurmond's crypt. ONE, TWO, and THREE bound and gagged against a column. BIRD MAN stands guard in front of them. THURMOND enters, with PISSANT CRACKER following three steps back.
THURMOND Well now, let's see what we got. Playwrights, huh? Writin' plays. What the hell good does that too? Why don't y'all get a real job!? You keep an eye on 'em, Bird Man. BIRD MAN Yessir. Thurmond turns away from them. Pissant follows. THURMOND These here small fries ain't worth a pot of piss. There's someone else here. PISSANT CRACKER Who? THURMOND I don't know, pissant cracker! No...there's someone here. The greatest enemy of everything Strom Thurmond has ever stood for! No...not him. But someone close...a child, perhaps. PISSANT CRACKER I seen a child! Sir, I seen a child! THURMOND Here? Right now? PISSANT CRACKER Yes sir--the daughter of one of these theatre people! THURMOND Bring her to me! Right now! Bring that child to me! Bring her to me so that I might finally vanquish my foe and all his dreams of freedom and cursed truthtelling. And the swearin'! By God, why does everybody think they have to be swearin' all the time? Go, Pissant Cracker! Fly before me!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
14. Pissant runs away.
THURMOND (cont.) Now I must prepare myself...for the ritual! He exits. One, Two, and Three all look at Bird Man. Bird Man looks away, trying to ignore them. BIRD MAN Y'all brought this on yourselves. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) Hell, I don't even go to the theater! I like Westerns! Can't ride a horse across a theater stage. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) I ain't got nothing against you personal. (Pause) The Senator done told me--and he's the boss! (Pause) Hell, I can't be talking to myself-Bird Man takes the gags out of the playwrights' mouths. ONE What are we doing here? TWO What did he mean? What ritual? BIRD MAN I don't know. ONE There's gotta be a reason why he's doing this. TWO Yeah, like what makes this night different from any other night? ONE Yeah, and what does he want to accomplish from all this? BIRD MAN Huh. I don't really know. Seems like he's just doing it to...do it. TWO Oh. Really? BIRD MAN I guess I ain't too clear on what's happening either.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
15. ONE
That's bad writing. TWO It's not bad so much as just lazy. ONE Yeah, it's lazy--but I'm gonna go ahead and say bad. THREE You can't say bad and Wordbridge. TWO Lucky for you. Bird Man laughs. ONE That was a good one! I wish I could write it down! BIRD MAN Well...that was a good one...I suppose I could write it down for you. Bird Man picks up a sheet of paper and writes on it. THREE Hey...I'm writing a Western. A play. BIRD MAN Really? THREE Yeah. And you don't even need horses. Here--lemme tell you what I've got so far. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
16. Scene Five The Script Office. The power is still out. Laptops and cell phones are laid out everywhere for light. LORNA sits at her laptop in grim concentration. Frustrated, she stands and punches a hole in the wall. JAYNE pours papers out of the recycling bin and sifts through them. RITA stares wistfully at the autographed poster of ROBERT GOULET hanging on the wall. HANK is curled up in the fetal position.
RITA Bobby Goo, tell us what to do. Tell us what to do, Bobby Goo. JAYNE He's not gonna talk, Rita. RITA I know what I heard! LORNA Both of you shut the hell up! Thurmond...zombies...Wordbridge...what's the connection? JAYNE I don't know, but we don't have much longer before the batteries die on the laptops and then we're in the dark again. LORNA Damnit! Hank! HANK What? LORNA Get out that and turn the power back on. HANK Why would you think I know how to do that? Plus, there's zombies! LORNA Look up how to do it and then do it! Jesus!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
17.
HANK I'm really kinda tired and stressed out right now-LORNA I will gouge out your eyes and piss on your brain! Hank quickly sits down at a laptop and starts looking at things. JAYNE Wait a minute! Strom Thurmond! That big creepy underground thing with all the steps! RITA Oh that's right! LORNA The Strom Thurmond Institute! JAYNE What's down there? HANK I'm gonna go dodge zombies and turn on the power in this building...just in case anyone cares where I'm going... LORNA I'll tell you what's down there. RITA What? HANK ...anyone care at all…? JAYNE All his papers and shit. LORNA Not just that-RITA (gasps) No! HANK ...bye everybody...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
18. Hank hobbles out. LORNA
He's down there. RITA No! JAYNE Really? LORNA Yes. JAYNE Could it be that-LORNA Strom Thurmond commands a zombie army of white guys-RITA And has kidnapped our playwrights-JAYNE In some sort of scheme to-LORNA Rule the world-RITA From beyond-JAYNE The-LORNA Grave? JAYNE God, it's so obvious! RITA What are we gonna do? LORNA No dead racist is gonna steal my playwrights! Not on my watch!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
19. Pounding and clawing at the door, low phlegmy moans from outside. The girls scream! JAYNE
Zombies! RITA Hide! LORNA Grab something! Grab anything you can find! She grabs a large paper cutter and rips the blade off, wielding it like a machete. Jayne digs through her bookbag and pulls out a rubber mallet. LORNA (cont.) What do you have that for? JAYNE My bed was too high. The door breaks apart and the HORDE OF REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS barrels through. Rita cowers, clutching the Goulet poster. As they advance toward her, she thrusts it out in front of her like a shield. Suddenly, the sonorous VOICE of Robert Goulet springs forth from the poster--"Some Enchanted Evening," or perhaps "The Impossible Dream." At these dulcet tones, the horde stops moving. Expressions of nostalgic calm wash across their faces. RITA It worked! I knew it! Oh Bobby Goo, I love you! She kisses the poster. Goulet winks at her. LORNA Get 'em--Pittsburgh style! The laptops and cell phones all die at once.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
20. The stage is completely dark. We hear the sounds of intense action with Goulet singing over it all. Suddenly, the power is restored and the room is fully lit once again. Lorna, Jayne, and Rita stand in triumph above a heap of motionless old men.
RITA Hells yes! Zombies can suck my vag! JAYNE Hey--wait a minute. LORNA What is it? JAYNE These aren't zombies at all. RITA They're not? JAYNE I don't think so. I know my zombies. LORNA You mean we just killed a bunch of really old white guys? JAYNE Yeah. RITA Oh. LORNA We should maybe keep that to ourselves. Script Office Secret. JAYNE Script Office Secret. RITA Script Office Secret.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
21. LORNA
Let's get the hell outta here. They run out of the office. End of Scene.
Scene Six Elsewhere in the building. An empty hallway. Baby LOTUS and her plush MONKEY sit alone. HANK enters, hobbling. HANK ...I hope they know how much work that took...and the danger...and my foot...and other shit. I hope they tell me what a hero I am-He sees Lotus. HANK (cont.) Oh no, baby Lotus! It's too dangerous for you to be out here alone. Let's get you to the script office. Behind Hank, the moan of a zombie. He spins around in fear. While his back is turned, PISSANT CRACKER runs in, snatches Lotus, and exits. Hank turns around to find only Monkey in front of him. HANK (cont.) Oops. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
22. Scene Seven Strom Thurmond's crypt. A kind of unholy altar has been set up. Atop is sits baby LOTUS. THURMOND, dressed now in a long white ceremonial gown, studies her.
THURMOND Look at you. I wager you don't even know who you are yet. Just a little baby, same as all them other little babies. Bah! Babies. Got no use for 'em. Got no use for anybody who ain't old enough to hold a job or vote Republican! But look at you, little baby. You got inside you everything that I hate! Miscegenation! Equality! Freedom of speech--what the hell does that even mean! You people's just guests in this country--my country!--and y'all about to be kicked right on outta here. Using this country like a doormat--watch out that door don't hit you in the ass on the way out! Fruity liberal types who think the Republican party is some big monster thing! There ain't nothing large about us! We don't do nothing but govern what people's a-doin' with their own bodies! Everything else is left up to itself. Government can't get much smaller than that! No sir! No sir indeed! Then you people...with your plays criticizing the good wars and holding up the degenerates of this country for the world to see. World don't need to see that! No sir. And I say, I say I don't find comedians to be very funny at all! God ain't never intended us to laugh! Life is work! Ain't nothin' else! Laughin' weakens the soul. Like soliciting a prostitute--might be fun, but it'll cost you! (pause) But you...people. If I can even stand to call you people--you'll get yours one day, and that day's a comin' round the bend. See...little baby...I do got some use for you. I am a-gonna steal the life right on outta you! I'm a-gonna steal my enemies' strength and use it against them to rule this here country from beyond the grave! Strom's gonna rise again! Thurmond cackles and lightning flashes. Lotus seems unimpressed. End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
23. Scene Eight The hallway. HANK on all fours, crawling around. MONKEY sits against the wall nearby.
HANK Lotus! Baby Lotus! Shit, where could she have gone? Lorna's gonna kill me...Pittsburgh style. LORNA, RITA, and JAYNE enter with their weapons. LORNA Hank, what the hell? HANK I turned the power back on! JAYNE Shit, we don't need no lights to kill zombies! RITA Fuck no, we don't! They high-five. LORNA Wait a minute--where's Lotus? HANK I don't know! I saw her and then I turned around for just a second and she was gone. I mean, she's really small, so she can't have gotten far. JAYNE Wait a minute--her Monkey's still here! RITA Wait a minute! (Pause. They wait for her to continue.) Oh sorry. I thought we--we were--playing like a "wait a minute"--thing--you know what, forget it. The Monkey! LORNA She wouldn't have left her Monkey--unless...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
24. JAYNE
Unless she was kidnapped! RITA Kidnapped by the zombies? LORNA No, not zombies. A zombie couldn't do this-JAYNE No, it must be some kind of-RITA Helper or servant or-LORNA Pissant-JAYNE And he's probably white-RITA Yeah probably. LORNA Yeah. Probably. And he must have-JAYNE Taken her to-RITA The Strom-JAYNE Thurmond-LORNA Institute! HANK We gotta save her! LORNA Things might get a little hairy out there. (Points to the cane.) You know how to use that thing?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
25. Hank twirls the cane impressively.
LORNA (Rolls her eyes.) Jesus...okay! Let's get the hell outta here. Hank, grab Monkey. HANK Why do I have to-JAYNE and RITA I will fuck you up, I swear to God! Hank picks up Monkey and they all run out.
Scene Nine The crypt. ONE, TWO, and THREE are still tied up, but BIRD MAN sits on the floor with One's notepad, taking notes as they talk. THREE So the idea is like the building of civilization-ONE Yeah. THREE Because every Western is a creation story, you know it's like, um... TWO Shit coming from nothing-ONE Yeah, and the good guys defeating the bad guys, it's like it's the first time that that's ever happened in the world.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
26.
BIRD MAN Hmm. That's a real smart way of lookin' at things, I gotta hand it to you. So in a Western, hell, you don't even need horses! You just need people! THREE That's what the theatre is all about. BIRD MAN I ain't never thought about it in such a way. (pause) Hell, you wouldn't even need cowboy hats. You could even use other kinds of hats from them old days, like derbys and such. ONE That's a pretty good idea. TWO Yeah. Hey Bird Man, you could be a dramaturg. BIRD MAN What's a dramaturg do? TWO As little as possible. One laughs. THREE Hey-oh! TWO Yeah but seriously, no one knows what a dramaturg does. Not even most dramaturgs. BIRD MAN Do you at least make a decent living at it? All four of them break into gales of hearty, genuine laughter. BIRD MAN (cont.) You know what, y'all? I hate doing this kinda work. I never fit in with these here people. And some days I just wish I was some place else...and today is one of those days. (Pause) Alright, I'm through with this shit! Bird Man stands and starts untying the playwrights.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
27. ONE
What's going on? BIRD MAN I'm setting y'all free and we're getting on outta here. I don't work for no Strom Thurmond no more! THURMOND appears. THURMOND I heard my name! The playwrights scream. PISSANT CRACKER enters with the HORDE OF REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS. PISSANT CRACKER Stop right there! Bird Man what in the hell do you think you're doing! BIRD MAN I'm taking these young people outta here! I'm quitting my post and if any of y'all gets any funny ideas to try and stop us, y'all gonna feel the business end of this here flashlight! Thurmond, I've had it up to here with your hatefulness and prejudice! These ain't bad people! These are good people and they do good things! Hell, there ain't nothing like entertainment! Thurmond raises his hands. The green lightning flashes and covers Bird Man. He collapses to the ground, dead. The playwrights gasp. Three falls to his knees. THREE (to the heavens) BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDD MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THURMOND Now that that shit's outta the way, it is time for The Ritual! Bound those whippersnappers! The Horde grabs the playwrights. PISSANT CRACKER Everything is prepared, master.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
28. THURMOND
Excellent. Bring me...The Child. Pissant Cracker exits, returns with LOTUS in his arms. He sets her upon the altar. THURMOND (cont.) I say I say let this Ritual begin! Thurmond raises his hands. Rumbles, lightning flashes! He intones in an ancient, unspeakable language. ONE This is really bad, guys. TWO Yeah it is. Hey...do you hear something? THREE Yeah, it kinda sounds like... ONE and TWO Robert Goulet? At this, one of the crypt walls crashes apart! The silken syllables of Robert Goulet overpower the Horde as the SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS (and HANK, with MONKEY) ride onstage on a tractor reading "Future Farmers of America" on its side. Weapons drawn, they jump off the tractor and strike a fearsome pose. LORNA If you touch one hair on that baby's head I cut out your heart, dip it in ranch dressing, and eat it at the barbecue on Sunday! HANK (shocked) Holy shit, Lorna... JAYNE and RITA Shut up.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
29.
THURMOND I say that's some big talk, missy. Let's see what my unholy minions got to say about that! Get 'em, boys! The Horde doesn't move. PISSANT CRACKER Get them! What's the matter with you! JAYNE Keep it up, Bobby Goo! Thurmond raises his arms. Green light down on the Goulet poster. It falls apart in Rita's arms. The other girls gasp. She falls to her knees. RITA (to the heavens) BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ! THURMOND Attack! The Horde attacks. A battle rages--Lorna fighting with her machete, Jayne with her mallet, Hank with his cane, and Rita with fists of fury. The playwrights cower in abject terror, as they are wont to do. Thurmond continues his Ritual as the battle rages. Lorna tries to battle through the horde and get to the altar. Pissant Cracker grabs Jayne by the shoulders. She struggles. PISSANT CRACKER You're not going anywhere! I'm far too strong for you! Jayne contorts her body and wriggles out of his grasp. She mallets his head. JAYNE
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
30.
Yoga, bitch! One of the Horde has Rita pinned to the wall. She kicks him in the crotch and he keels over. RITA Nuts! The Horde is defeated! Lorna has made it to the altar. Thurmond crosses between she and Lotus. THURMOND Hold it right there missy! You come just about far enough! You take one step closer and this little girl is dead! JAYNE Oh shit! What are we gonna do? RITA I miss Bobby Goo! THURMOND I could use a young missy like you to carry out my will. LORNA I already got a job. THURMOND This one pays better than you could imagine. What do you say? LORNA I say we don't work for the fucking pay! The Script Office Girls cheer! THURMOND You're already too late. The Ritual is nearly done and with one touch of my finger I will steal this baby's life force and rule this country forever! The evil green light floods the entire stage! Thurmond slowly pushes his withered, decrepit finger toward Lotus.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
31. Monkey, still in Hank's hands, suddenly speaks. MONKEY
Throw me up there! HANK What?! MONKEY I said throw me up there, motherfucker! Hank throws Monkey toward the altar. Lorna catches it. Lotus laughs and claps her hands. THURMOND What in tarnation?! MONKEY Hey what's the difference between an old white man and an outhouse? One's full of shit--and the other's an outhouse! Thurmond giggles. A moment. He laughs louder. Then louder. Soon his entire body is convulsing with high shrieks of laughter. The crypt starts to shake. The walls start to come down. Thurmond's grows louder and more destructive. Lorna grabs Lotus and they jump down. LORNA Take cover--Pittsburgh style! The CRYPT COMES CRASHING DOWN! A moment passes, and the Script Office Girls emerge from their cover. RITA Is everyone okay? HANK My foot--I mean, I'm fine.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
32. JAYNE
Is baby Lotus alright? LORNA She's good. Where are the playwrights? ONE We're here! TWO That was amazing! THREE I think my arms have been crushed! LORNA Whatever. Suddenly, Thurmond bursts out of a pile of rubble. The playwrights scream! Thurmond can't bring himself to stand. He collapses, near death. THURMOND Who...who are all of y'all? Lorna approaches, puts a leg up on his pile of rubble. She sticks a lit cigar in her mouth. LORNA We're the Script Office Girls. Thurmond disappears back into the darkness from which he came. Everyone cheers! HANK I LOVE THIS TOWN!! JAYNE Hey...what time is it? RITA 11:30.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher
33. MONKEY
We gonna pitch a bitch at 11:30! DANCE MUSIC STARTS. The girls dance and celebrate. Lotus hugs Monkey and claps along with the music. Suddenly, DAVE WHITE enters. The music stops. DAVE WHITE I've been looking everywhere for guys! LORNA We've been a little fucking busy! DAVE WHITE I need your help. JAYNE What's the matter? DAVE WHITE You guys need to find something. Immediately. RITA What do you need to find? DAVE WHITE Gold. HANK Gold? DAVE WHITE Solid Gold! THE END!!! The Script Office Girls will return in... SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS: THE LEGEND OF CHARNEY'S GOLD Coming Soon!
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