Threeplay

THREEPLAY BY RON CAMPBELL

THREEPLAY                                                                                                                                                                                                                         RON CAMPBELL

soarfeat@gmail.com

THREEPLAY

Ron Campbell

310-621-2287

 

 

 

GIL                                                      A husband

CAROL                                              A wife

NICK                                                  A man

 

 

(Lights up on a suburban dining room. NICK is lying prone on the dining room table. Carol stands there looking at him. A moment, then we hear GIL off:)

 

GIL

Honey, I’m home!

 

(GIL enters, sees NICK’s body on the table.)

 

Is he dead?

 

 

carol

I can see him breathing.

 

gil

Get my gun.

 

CAROL

It’s in the kitchen. In the cuspidor.

 

gil

My gun is in the cuspidor?

 

 

Carol

Yes, you’re gun is in the cuspidor. Do you want a drink?

THREEPLAY                                     RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 

Gil

There’s a loaded gun in the cuspidor?  You put a loaded gun in my cuspidor? What’s wrong with the safe?

 

CAROL

Nothing. Scotch?

 

gil

Thanks.

(She pours him a scotch.)

Just take it out.

 

carol

What?

 

gil

Take the gun out of the cuspidor and put it in the safe. I’m surprised and disappointed in you. This is what I call a breach. A breach in our home security system. Anyone could open our refrigerator, look in the cuspidor and pull out my loaded gun, stick it under my chin and turn the ceiling into a Jackson-fucking-Pollack!    

 

carol

More scotch?

 

gil

Thanks.

 

(She pours him another. He is now pacing around the room.)

 

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 

GIL

How do you think he got in here? You think he climbed up the ventilation duct? Or used suction cups on the windows? Or maybe he repelled down from an attack helicopter with some kind of cloaking device? Or infiltrated our gated communities security team using hypergesic blow darts fired from tiny catapults stored in the hollowed- out tips of his synthetic pinkies!

 

Carol

Or maybe he just snuck in last night and fell asleep.

 

gil

Check his pinkies!

 

carol

Why don’t you just wake him up?

 

 

GIL

 (He takes his own pulse.)

He’s probably monitoring our heart rates right now, preparing overthrow strategies based on our response to this crisis, projecting action scenarios for the complete dismantling of our happy home!

 

(There is a pause as they both look at the body on the desk.)

gil

That’s why I’m going to play it cool. I’m going to circle him. Like a panther. Like a cool panther. All sinew and alertness and tension underneath cool black fur. I’m going to face this security breach like a man. Part man, part panther. Manther. That’s me. I am Manther, see me stalk. I’ve turned a major crisis into an opportunity. An opportunity to feel the pulse of my enemy in my nostrils,

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 (He inhales deeply through his nose.)

to sense my enemies’ fears and weaknesses with deadly accuracy. To elongate my spine in preparation of a fatal lunge to the jugular.

 (He does so)

 

Carol

Hey Manther, I think he’s waking up.

 

GIL

Maybe I should go.

 

carol

Maybe you should.

 

Gil

That’s what I’m saying. Maybe I should. I’ve got that choice. I’ve got that option. It’s something to consider.

 

carol

So go.

 

gil

Don’t use that tone with me. I’m going. I’ll be in the pantry.

(He exits)

 

Nick

His idle is set a little high don’t you think?

 

carol

It’s early.

 

nick

He gets better?

 

carol

No, worse.

 

Nick

Will he be coming back?

 

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

carol

Soon.

 

nick

Then what are you waiting for? C’mere.

 

carol

Nick, you can’t just show up here. This is my HOME. You can’t just wash up on our dining room table. He’ll suspect something.

 

nick

By then it’ll be too late. C’mere.

 

carol

I’ve got responsibilities.

 

nick

Yeah? Name ‘em.

 

Carol

Well, there’s the dinner and-

 

nick

He can just heat up one of those pasta bowls from Trader Joe’s. He’ll be fine. In the mean time, c’mere.

 

carol

Nick, I’ve been thinking.

 

nick

Big mistake. Don’t think. Thinking is highly overrated. Doing. Doing is what you want to do. Doing is the ticket. Thinking is for people like your husband. We’re doers. Now come here.

 

carol

I was in my car.

 

nick

Where were you?

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 

carol

In the driver’s seat.

 

nick

No, I mean where were you driving?

 

carol

On the freeway. And I had this thought.

 

nick

You had a thought.

 

carol

Yeah. I had this thought.

 

nick

What was the thought, Carol? And don’t tell me you had an idea.  Ideas are killers. They sap our strength. They seduce us with their originality. They lure us into a web of thoughts.  They distract us from our mission. They eventually mutate into theories.  And that way lies madness, Carol. So what was your thought?

 

carol

It was more of a notion, really.

 

nick

Oh, well that’s completely different. What was the notion?

 

carol

It’s complicated.

 

nick

A complicated notion? Sounds good. Do we have time?

 

carol

What do you mean?

 

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

nick

Well, we’re on a rather tight schedule here, aren’t we? We have a time frame. Gil can’t hang by the washer and dryer all night, can he? And there are certain activities that need to transpire before his return.

 

carol

You’re a prick.

 

(They start to stalk each other, each looking for an opening.)

 

Nick

You’re a housewife.

 

carol

Cripple.

 

nick

Baggage.

 

carol

Underling.

 

nick

Pawn.

 

carol

Asthmatic.

 

nick

Frigid.

 

carol

Bi Polar.

 

Nick

You know you want me.

 

Carol

You know you’re Deluded.

 

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

Nick

Castrating bitch.

 

carol

Spineless neuter.

 

nick

Surgically enhanced.

 

Carol

Developmentally disabled.

 

nick

Mindless.

 

carol

Heartless.

 

nick

Dickless.

 

carol

Dickless.

(They are now nose to nose)

 

nick

I want you.

 

carol

I’m taken.

 

nick

Fix it.

 

carol

I will, Just give me some time.

(She breaks away from him.)

I want to tell you about my notion.

 

nick

I’m not interested.

 

carol

You will be.

 

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

nick

How do you know?

 

carol

You like to hurt people.

 

nick

Only my closest friends.

 

carol

You don’t have any friends.

 

nick

That’s how good I am at it.

 

carol

Look, you need to hear this.

 

nick

I’m listening.

 

carol

You’re not. You take one look at me and your eyes just glaze over like a honey baked ham. There is something afoot here. Forces.

 

nick

Forces.

 

carol

Forces. Powerful currents. Rip tides.

Undertow.

 

nick

You’re a beautiful woman.

 

carol

Stop it.

 

nick

I can’t help it. When you talk like that I feel so… tidal.

 

carol

I have a notion-

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 

nick

Notions are for the perfume counter at Bloomingdales. Sit on my lap.

 

carol

Oh just bite me.

 

(She turns away from him. So he bites her on the shoulder.)

 

Ouch! You bit me! You actually bit me!

 

nick

You told me to!

 

carol

I didn’t mean actually bite me. I was speaking euphemistically. You’re an animal.

 

nick

Yeah, I know. And you like me that way. You love me that way. I’m your animal.

 

(NICK grabs her. She struggles. Gil enters. He gets into a shooting stance and points his pinkie at NICK. The gesture is accompanied by the sound of a tiny blow dart breaking the sound barrier. NICK grabs his neck and collapses back onto the dining room table.)

 

CAROL

What was that?

 

GIL

(Softly blowing on his finger.)

Micro catapults. Built into my finger. They shoot hypergesic darts.

THREEPLAY                                      RON CAMPBELL

SOARFEAT@GMAIL.COM

 

carol

My God I love you baby. And always there with the latest technology at your fingertips. And just in the nick of time, too. Well, I’ll go upstairs and slip into that strappy number you like so much. Why don’t you call the escort agency and tell them to come pick him up. And see if you get him again next week. I liked his style.

(She starts to exit, turns:)

Is what we do so wrong?

 

GIL

What are you talking about? It’s about love. We’ve got love right here. Right now

 

Carol

What we have is not love, sweetheart. What we have is a… deep mutual distrust.

 

NICK

Then what do you attribute to our being together for this long?

 

carol

Stamina. See you upstairs.

(She blows him a seductive kiss. He catches It as she exits.)

 

 

BLACKOUT

 

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