Finally.

A copy of one of my works in progress.  Just so, you know, you can see that I'm working on it. 

Pacific Motel

CHARACTERS:

MONIQUE

RYAN

DANA, the landlady

NOTE:

The living room of the apartment has all-brown dully colored walls with cushioned chairs, a dining table, and a carpet of the same color.  Table and chairs appear to be painted brown just like the walls.  Right smack-dab in the middle of the living room is a brown couch.  On the wall is a painting of two giraffes against a dark blue background in a frame with its gold paint flaking off.

Bedrooms are very noticeably children’s rooms.  The first bedroom is an almost-exact replica of the green room from the Goodnight Moon story, with green walls, red and green curtains, a red windowpane, and a bed with green sheets.  The second bedroom is covered with cartoony bunny wallpaper.  The bathroom is completely pink with flamingo figurines all over.

            

ACT ONE: FIRST DAY

Scene 1: Welcome Home

(Footsteps are heard outside, indicating that someone is outside the apartment.  RYAN and MONIQUE enter through the door into the apartment from stage left.  Ryan closes the door.  Monique takes a few steps forward, and stares at the place.)

(Pause, about 10 seconds)

MONIQUE: The fuck is this place?

RYAN: What, you don’t like it?

MONIQUE:  Do YOU like it?

RYAN:  Well, no.  Not really.

MONIQUE:  Well, what made you think I would like it?!

RYAN:  Well, you like brown.

MONIQUE:  What, that’s it?

RYAN:  Yeah, you wear brown all the time.

MONIQUE:  That doesn’t mean I wanna live somewhere that looks like SHIT was smeared on the walls!

RYAN:  Okay, okay, sorry.

MONIQUE:  I thought you said you looked at this place before we signed the contract.

RYAN:  Yeah…

MONIQUE:  So why didn’t you tell me how the place looked?

RYAN:  I forgot.

MONIQUE:  You forgot about THIS?  (Extending her arm out towards the room)

RYAN:  No, I mean I forgot to tell you.

MONIQUE:  You dumbass.

RYAN: (Unapologetic) Sorry. (Turns his head, and then stares at the wall, up at the painting) What the fuck is that?

MONIQUE:  What?

RYAN:  (Points towards the wall in front of them) Up there.

MONIQUE:  (Looks) I think it’s a giraffe.

RYAN:  Oh.  I don’t even remember it being there.

MONIQUE:  (Scoffs and crosses her arms) Figures.

(They stare at the painting for a while, turning their heads sideways, almost examining it.  Then they notice they’re both doing the same thing)

MONIQUE:  Why are you looking at it like that?

RYAN: Like what?

MONIQUE: You like it or something?

RYAN: Hell no!  (Short pause)  Do you?

MONIQUE: Fuck no. (Short pause)  It looks like their eyes are staring at us.  Like they’re saying, “What the hell do YOU want?”

RYAN: I know.  It’s creepy.

(They keep staring.  A long pause, about 20 seconds)

MONIQUE: You know what?   Let’s take it off.

RYAN: (Agrees, implying that he’s creeped out) Yeah, yeah, let’s do that.

(He pulls a chair from the side and gets up on it, trying to pull the painting off the wall from the sides.  It doesn’t move.)

RYAN: The fuck???

MONIQUE: What?  What’s going on?

RYAN:  It’s—it’s glued to the wall.

MONIQUE: What?

RYAN: (Grasping tightly onto the painting) It’s attached to the frickin’ wall!  Fuck, I can’t even move this damn thing.

MONIQUE: Who the hell would do that?

RYAN: I dunno.  No idea.

MONIQUE: Let me get up there.

(She tries to get Ryan to move by pulling at his leg, but he won’t get down)

RYAN: Get you own chair.

MONIQUE: Fuck you!

(The doorbell rings, with a slight buzz indicating age.  Ryan and Monique’s heads jerk towards the door and freeze for a second.  Ryan steps down from the chair and Monique walks briskly towards the door.  She opens it.  From the doorway there is a figure visible, extending her arms in welcome.)

DANA: (singsong) Hello, new tenants!

MONIQUE: Oh—

MONIQUE/RYAN: (in unison) Hi, Dana.
 

(DANA enters, with her arms still extended, wearing a beige business suit, beige heels, and six watches on each arm.  She almost appears to be showing off her watches.  She walks into the apartment, daintily.)

DANA: (gaily) So how do you like the new apartment?

MONIQUE: (smiling nervously) Oh.  It’s—it’s good.

DANA: Oh, super!  (Ryan noticeably cringes at the word “super.”  She turns to Ryan’s direction, and he tries to hide his reaction) So have you seen the rest of the apartment yet?

RYAN: Oh.  No, not yet.

(Monique gives him an “Oh, my God, really??” look)

DANA: (Smiles nervously) Oh.  Well, I hope you’ll find it interesting. (She chuckles to herself.  Ryan and Monique both look worried.)

MONIQUE: Um, Dana, I think we forgot to ask you a few questions about the place before we signed the contract.

DANA: (Extends her arms again) Oh, sure.  Fire away.

MONIQUE: Okay.  (Pauses in thought, then takes a deep breath)   About the furnishings—

DANA: (Flings her hands towards her) Oh, yes.  I know what you mean.  The how-do-you-say, little (puts her index and middle fingers upwards to resemble quotes) “re-touchings” are against building policy.  But I must admit—I AM impressed!  The previous tenant really had an eye for design!

MONIQUE: Uh—

(Ryan crosses his eyes in disgust, but jerks himself back to normal when Dana looks his way.  Dana extends her arms again, stepping around the room and admiring it.)

DANA: Doesn’t the color of these walls give you such a warm fuzzy feeling inside?  It makes me want to have nice hot cup of espresso.  Right now.  (Abruptly turns to Monique) Do you have any?

MONIQUE: Um, sure.  (Turns to Ryan)  Ry, go make her a cup.

RYAN: But—

MONIQUE: Just do it.

(Ryan walks stage right, towards the kitchen.  The sound of the clunking mugs can be heard.)

DANA: Oh! (Walks towards the painting) And how could I forget the painting of the giraffes?

MONIQUE: (Trying to force back a groan) Yes, I noticed it right when I came in.

DANA: You know, you folks came in at THE perfect time.  At this time of day you know what happens?

MONIQUE: What, Dana?

DANA: The afternoon sunlight reflects off the giraffes’ necks and their spots turn a lighter shade of brown, which matches the color of these walls perfectly!

MONIQUE: (bleakly) I was just thinking the same thing.

DANA: And just look at the glint off the gold frame. (Her nails on her left hand stroke the frame affectionately and her watchbands gleam)

MONIQUE: Pretty. (Pause.  She’s clearly looking for a chance to escape.  She points with her thumb towards the kitchen.) I’m gonna go check on that espresso.

(She walks briskly stage right, towards the kitchen.  Dana continues admiring the room while there’s the indistinct sound of Monique’s voice, saying, “You’re doing it wrong” and Ryan responding with “Sorry”.  The sounds in the kitchen continue.  Ryan and Monique both emerge from stage right.  Monique holds a steaming mug.)

MONIQUE: Here you go, Dana.

DANA: Oh, thank you.  Super.  (She sips the espresso with her pinky out as Ryan cringes at the word “super” again.  She then glances at all her watches, her eyes running up and down her arm.)  Oh, Jesus, I better go.  There’s another tenant who just moved in today and I better be there to greet him!  I heard he makes cupcakes. 

(She walks daintily towards the door on stage left, trying to not to spill her coffee.  Ryan opens the door for her.  Dans lifts her right leg up and holds the mug up on her way out.)

(Gaily) Bye, kids!

MONIQUE/RYAN: (in unison) Bye, Dana.

(Dana exits.  Ryan slams the door a little too hard.  There is an awkward silence for about 10 seconds.  Finally Monique speaks.)

MONIQUE: So is it true?

RYAN: What?

MONIQUE: You haven’t seen the whole apartment yet?

RYAN:  Yeah.  So?

MONIQUE:  So you don’t even know what the rest of the place looks like?!

RYAN: I thought it all looked the same.

MONIQUE: Dumbass.  According to Dana, that’s definitely not true.

(Pause, about another 10 seconds.  It’s clear that they are afraid to see the rest of the apartment.)

RYAN: Well, let’s go, then.

MONIQUE: Go what?

RYAN: See the rest of the apartment.

(Monique is shocked at first at Ryan’s boldness.  But then she shrugs cynically.)

MONIQUE: Sure, why not?

(The living room darkens)

CURTAIN

Scene 2: A Nightmare Turned Real

(Lights go up at stage left.  Ryan and Monique enter through the doorway to bedroom at center stage. The bedroom has a childish red and green scheme. They immediately react.)

MONIQUE: What the fuck is this?  Goodnight Moon?

RYAN: The hell you talking about?

MONIQUE: You know, that kid’s book, with the bunny and the room and he’s saying goodnight to everything…

RYAN: Oh, yeah.

(He walks towards the bed and plops down on it with his arms behind his head and his shoes still on.  The bed with green sheets is noticeably too small for him.  Monique stares at him awkwardly, as if he’s a kid again.  Pause 7 seconds.  Then Ryan notices.)

RYAN: What?

MONIQUE: I fucking swear, all you need right now is a round table with a lamp, a comb, a brush, and a bowl of rice and this freaky setup would be complete.

RYAN: (As by reflex) Mush.

MONIQUE: Whatever.

RYAN: (Lifting up his body) You want me to get off the bed?  Then just say it.

MONIQUE: Fine.  I want you to get off the bed.

RYAN: All right.  Thank you. (He stands back up.  The mattress creaks a bit.  Ryan looks around the room again, hands at his sides) I guess I’ll take this one.

MONIQUE: Well, good.  I’m not sleeping in here.

RYAN: Fine with me.  (Plops back on the bed.  He appears to be comfortable.) You can come in here and read me a bedtime story then.  How about the Kama Sutra?

MONIQUE: (Disgusted) Fuck you!

RYAN: (Raises up his hands) Okay, okay!  Just playing!

(Monique heaves an angry sigh, crossing her arms.  She’s clearly annoyed.)

MONIQUE: You can stay HERE in your little nursery then.  I’ll be in the other room.

RYAN: Fine, whatever. (Monique exits the room, walking stage right.  Ryan makes sure she’s just within earshot.)  Bitch.

MONIQUE: (From outside the room) Bastard.

(Pause 10 seconds.  Ryan continues relaxing on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and humming an aimless tune.  Monique suddenly runs back into the room and shakes him violently.)

RYAN: (Throws off Monique’s hands from his shoulders) The fuck, Mo?

MONIQUE: (Shaking him again)  Ry!  You HAVE to come see this!

(She dashes out of the room)

RYAN: (Raises up his hands, then grumpily follows her) Okay, okay.  I’m coming.  Geez.

(Stage left darkens.  Lights go up stage right upon a childishly wallpapered room. Ryan enters from stage right.  Monique is already there.)

RYAN: (More shocked than disgusted) Oh.  Wow.

MONIQUE: (Dejectedly) They’re… bunnies.

RYAN: (Stupidly) Yeah.  Lots of bunnies.

MONIQUE: (In almost disgusted wonder, approaching rage) And they are all over… my walls.

RYAN: Yeah.  I can see that.

MONIQUE: (Enraged) THERE ARE BUNNIES—

RYAN: Must have been—

MONIQUE: ALL OVER—

RYAN: A baby’s room--

MONIQUE: MY… WALLS!

RYAN: Or something.

MONIQUE: Now I have to sleep with a million Peter Cotton-FUCKING-tails staring at me!

RYAN: Well, you can’t have my room.

MONIQUE: I don’t want your fucking room!

RYAN: Well, then look who has the nursery then.

MONIQUE: Shut the fuck up!

(She sits on the bed, which has light blue sheets, with her face in her hands.  Her voice is slightly muffled.)

I hate this fucking apartment… Hate it, hate it, hate it…

(Ryan resignedly exits the room from stage right.  When Monique looks up Ryan is gone.)

MONIQUE: Ry?  Ry?  Where the hell did he—

RYAN: (Calls from center stage) I’m in here.

(Monique exits the room from stage right.  Stage right darkens.  Dim light goes up on center stage on a darkened bathroom.  She enters from center stage.  Ryan is there.)

RYAN: (Searching the wall near the doorway) Where’s the other light for this?

MONIQUE: (In protest) No, no, no, no, keep it off, KEEP IT OFF, I BEG YOU—

(There is a sudden bright explosion of pink.  They both cover their eyes in disgust.)

MONIQUE/RYAN: OH!

RYAN: (Bending his knees and bouncing back upwards in exaggerated disgust) MY GOD!

(They take a while to recover from the blinding light.  Before long they are able to see what’s around them.)

MONIQUE: There’s flamingos, fucking flamingos everywhere!

RYAN: What the fuck—did someone spray Pepto-Bismol in here?

MONIQUE: (Walks towards the mirror and looks at her face.  She puts her hands on it.)  Holy shit, I think I’m going blind!  (She tries to pick up a flamingo figurine on the sink.  But it’s non-detachable.)

RYAN: (Touching the other figurines) I don’t think any of these will come off…

MONIQUE: (Whirls around towards Ryan) I FUCKING KNOW THAT ALREADY!

(She whirls so forcefully that she falls on the toilet near Ryan, which is also pink.  She tries to throw up, but she can’t.  Ryan just watches her, in slight amusement.  When she sees him watching she splashes toilet water at his face.)

RYAN: (Jerks his head away as he’s splashed) Ew!

(As she gets up, Monique looks as if she’s about to punch him.  Ryan crouches down and cowers on the floor, with his face on pink bathmat.  But instead of hitting him, she leans over and yells at him)

MONIQUE: RY??

RYAN: (Quiveringly) What, Mo?

MONIQUE: I FUCKING HATE YOU!

(She exits the bathroom off center stage.  There’s the sound of a door slamming.  Ryan is left in the bathroom by himself, still on the floor, exhausted with relief.  The bathroom darkens.)

CURTAIN

Scene 3: Insomnia

(Living room.  Night.  Dim light falls upon the living room.  Ryan enters from backstage in nightwear.  He drops to the ground in front of the brown couch and starts searching around the dark for the remote.  Monique enters from backstage in nightwear.  Ryan doesn’t notice.  After a while he gives up looking for the remote.  When he stands up, he sees that Monique is there, with her right hand on her hip.)

MONIQUE: (crankily) You just HAD to pick a place that was right across the street from a bar.

RYAN: I thought it would be convenient.

MONIQUE: For who?

RYAN: Me.

MONIQUE: Fuck.

(Pause about 10 seconds.  Ryan and Monique appear disgustingly tired, rubbing their eyes, yawning, scratching their behinds, etc.  Finally Monique speaks.)

MONIQUE: That couch looks like a big pile of shit in the middle of this room right now.

(Another pause as they stare at the couch)

RYAN: You wanna sit on the pile of shit?

MONIQUE: Okay.

(They flop down on the couch.  There’s another pause as they just stare into space as they’re sitting.  Ryan finds the remote underneath him and turns on the TV.  Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction plays on the screen.  They stare blankly at the TV in the dark, almost too tired to watch.  Before long, Ryan speaks up.)

RYAN: Hey, Mo? (Monique doesn’t answer.  He speaks a little louder) Mo?

MONIQUE: (Barely acknowledging him) Yes?

RYAN: Do you really hate me? (Monique doesn’t reply.  She appears to be distracted by the TV.  Ryan persists) Well, do you?

(Monique stares at the TV a while longer.  Then she looks as if she’s thinking.  Finally she speaks.)

MONIQUE: Well… you know…

(She’s struggling to explain herself, but Ryan thinks she’s hiding something)

RYAN: Yeah?  Go on.

(Monique appears reluctant to speak, but she tries to)

MONIQUE: To be honest…

(She continues trying, skeptically.) 

RYAN: Come on.  Just say it.

(Monique struggles to say what she means.  She starts, then hesitates, starts over, and hesitates again, repeatedly.  Finally she sighs and throws up her hands, as if exhausted from thinking)

MONIQUE: I… I… don’t even know anymore.

(There is a lingering silence, with only the TV in the background, as the words sink in.  The honest answer is a bit of a surprise for both of them.)

RYAN: W-what do you mean?

MONIQUE: Well, you know… it’s like… well, I dunno… but it’s like… 
every day… it’s like “oh, you’re here.”  You’re right here with all your stupidity and mama’s boyish-ness.  And that’s what it’s always like.  You’re always here.  And you know… seeing you, every day like that… it just kinda… you know… sucks.

RYAN: So… you don’t want me here?

(No response.  Monique stares blankly at the TV.  Ryan tries again)

RYAN: You don’t want me here?

MONIQUE: … Oh, sorry.  I like this part.  (She suddenly remembers what they’re talking about)  No, it’s not that.  It’s just that… well… I wish I could just be on my own… but you know… with rent being so fucking expensive… I have to be stuck with you. 

RYAN: Well, you know, you don’t HAVE to live with me.

MONIQUE: Well, where the fuck else would I go?  Go live with my mom?  Fuck that.  Who am I, you?  I know YOU can live with your mom without ever wishing that she’d have a fucking heart attack or stroke or get cancer or whatever.  You know what that makes you?  A pussy.  A goddamn pussy.  You know how much I fucking hate you for that?  You have NO idea.

(Ryan is silent.  He is pretty hurt by now and can’t really think of anything to say.)    

RYAN: I’m—I’m sorry.

MONIQUE: (A little remorseful) It’s not your fault.  It’s just that God fucked up when he made you.

(Ryan still can’t think of anything else to say.  He appears to be in a state of both hurt and shock, and just stares at the TV.)

TV: Bring out the gimp.

(Monique and Ryan stare at the TV for a while, open-mouthed and expressionless.  Suddenly Monique retreats back to her room.  Ryan stays on the couch.  Before long, he falls asleep.  The TV resumes in the background, with sounds of Marcellus Wallace’s anal rape coming from the screen.)

CURTAIN