A play in one act.
Dramatis Personae
Bruce – The father of the family. Bruce is jovial, if easily excited. He should be played with all the exhausted delirium
of one who has been up at 4 am every day for thirty years.
Désirée – The
long-suffering stepmother. Désirée is a good match for her spouse, pragmatic
where he is excitable, excitable where he is pragmatic. She is never seen without a camera in her
hand.
Sarah – Oldest child. Vaguely neurotic and hideously pretentious. She occasionally veers into an affected Boston accent, and uses
the word "meta" a lot.
Sandor – Sarah's spouse. Still bewildered by what he married into, Sandor usually hides behind a
newspaper or magazine whenever he is onstage and not eating.
Ashley – Second-oldest child. Slightly Goth, Ashley always wears black and
her most frequent character tic is eye-rolling. Despite the six-year age difference, Ashley is four inches taller than
Sarah, and exploits her height at every opportunity.
Chris – Ashley's boyfriend. Gentle-giant type, sporting a mullet. Chris is the newest member of the family, and as such, takes cues on
behavior from Sandor. Instead of a
newspaper, Chris hides behind a laptop.
Adam – Third child, aged twelve. Caught between childhood and adolescence,
Adam shifts between Matthew's playmate and a self-conscious grown-up demeanor
that is easily overcome by the presence of toys or food.
Matthew – The baby, aged ten. Matthew spends most of his time onstage
circling the other characters, none of whom (except for Sandor and Chris) can
resist touching him. He never stops
moving.
Setting: Neville family household. From an initial glance, this is clearly a
stereotypical WASP Christmas as depicted in Hollywood for the past forty years. The house is old, with a wrap-around porch,
wood trim and crown moldings, and the place is bustling with the activity that denotes
FAMILY VALUES and other things that make neo-fundamentalist Christians
smile. A Bible sits open on a bookstand
in one corner. A fire blazes merrily in
the hearth. The Christmas tree is
already up, and 8 home-made stockings nestle together underneath, waiting
patiently. Every available piece of wall
space and flat surface is covered in photos of the family at various stages in
their development - graduations, weddings, birthdays, Christmas. The staircase is wrapped with pine boughs and
twinkle lights. The audience is
permitted a few moments of drinking in the scene before the action begins, just
enough to realize that this isn't quite the WASPerfection that they've come to
expect: the Christmas tree is tilted precariously to the left, the floor near
the entrance is littered with the effluvia of outdoor clothing necessary for
the Canadian winter (shoes, boots, mittens, hats, scarves, gloves, coats), and
what appeared at first glance to be an end table is actually an ironing
board. Children's toys are hidden all
over the stage - a yellow dumptruck peeks out from under the piano; a
basketball is wedged behind the Bible; a selection of plastic Spongebob
figurines mingle on the coffee table. A
mini baseball bat sits upright on the sofa, as if watching television. Pokémon cards are everywhere, and characters in the
drama are often seen absent-mindedly picking them out of one place (like the CD
compartment on the stereo) and putting them somewhere else (like a potted
plant). No-one else so much as notices.
Enter Matthew, SL, hurling himself down the staircase. He jumps the last five steps, collapsing at
the base with a crunch that should make the audience wince and anticipate
crying. The Christmas tree lurches further left.
Matt: Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!!!!!
Matthew jumps up from the base of the stairs without so much
as dusting himself off. It is at this
point that the audience should notice that he's not wearing any pants, only an
adult-sized Sponge Bob Squarepants t-shirt with holes in the sleeves. Matthew circles the Christmas tree twice,
grabs the basketball out from behind the Bible stand (leaving it rocking) and
races away SR.
The audience is left again to observe the stage, watching
the Bible stand slowly rock itself still.
SD: Scratching noise, like somebody dragging a dead android. Swearing heard offstage. Désirée enters at the top of the stairs,
bum-first. She's pulling a large
light-stand, which is getting caught on the carpet. It bashes into the side of
the staircase, raining a thick dusting of plaster onto Désirée 's head.
Dé: Dammitdammitdammitdammit!
Bru-uce!!!
Bruce enters from the kitchen, holding a head of lettuce in
one hand, a beer in the other.
Throughout this exchange, it is crucial that as Désirée 's
mood gets more excited, Bruce's is more and more composed, almost
Zen-like. They must never, ever, be
operating on the same wavelength.
Bru: What?
Dé: What? What do you think? Some help would be nice.
We've got to do the picture today, because everybody's here today. <yanks at
stand, which descends three steps in rapid succession, nearly missing her
foot> Dammit! <Désirée stands there
pointedly, eyes glaring with the rapidly-elevating nuclear irritation that all
women experience when their otherwise wonderful spouse is deliberately refusing
to read their mind just because they can hide behind the façade of not actually
being able to read minds>
Bru: Well, what do
you want me to do?
Dé: Stand
there. <She continues to stare, head
steaming> I would just like you to stand there with the lettuce. What do you think I want you to do?
Bru: You want some
help? <He smiles graciously, as if this idea has just occurred to him, and
he will be presented with the Husband of the Year Award for his brilliance>
Dé: Yea-ah. That would be nice.
They stand there, Désirée glaring, Bruce smiling, oblivious, for a
moment. The tension is broken by the entrance of Sarah and Sandor, dwnSL.
Sar and San: Merry
Christmas! Hello, hello!
Sarah and her father hug, the wet head of lettuce leaving a
puddle on the back of her shirt. Désirée
descends noisily with the light stand
and hugs Sandor, who stands there stiffly, responding a beat too late for a
completely natural reaction.
Dé: How was the
drive?
San: Hell, as
usual.
Toronto
driving for ya.
An elephant thunders in from SR. No, that's not an elephant, it's a pantless
child in a Spongebob t-shirt.
Matt: SAR-AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!
He grabs Sarah around the knees, who immediately hoists him
upside down, threatening to drop him on his head. She does. Matthew jumps up, uncertain for a moment whether he wants to be turned
upside down and dropped again, or greet Sandor. Sandor wins. He rushes Sandor, who, with learned
resignation, protects his testicles with one hand and reaches out to Matthew
with the other.
San: Hiiiiiiiiii,
Matthew.
Matt:
Sandy
! <Sandor
winces> Come and play Nintendo with
me!
Sandor is saved a response by Ashley and Chris from SR. Matthew races up the stairs.
Dé: My
lights…Matthew, don't touch my lights! <She races upstairs, just as fast as
her son. For the next few minutes, Désirée
lugs various pieces of camera equipment
around the stage, positioning them in a manner completely incomprehensible to
anyone else. Every time she races upstairs, she returns with something
progressively more ridiculous: a giant white umbrella, a panel of tin foil,
something that appears to be a giant silver breast with a gold-tipped nipple.>
Ashley: Hey.
<Nods once at the newcomers, straightens up to her full height, and stands
pointedly beside her sister.>
Sar: Hey,
yourself. Don't get so excited, now.
Ashley: <shrug> You're still shorter.
Sar: <Ignoring
Ashley, turns to Chris> Hi, Chris!
Chris: <Slightly
more energetically than Ashley> Hey. <To Sandor, with obvious relief>
How's it goin'?
The company breaks up, with Chris and Sandor retiring to the
sofa, where they immediately bury themselves in a laptop and newspaper,
respectively. Ashley disappears up the
stairs, and the focus follows Sarah and Bruce in the kitchen. Bruce picks up a knife, and begins hacking
away at the potatoes. Sarah mills around
the kitchen, reading Christmas cards and opening and closing cupboards.
Bru: <Turning
around and gesturing with the knife excitedly, as if offering a child a puppy>
How's about a rum and eggnog?
Sar: Low-fat
eggnog?
Sarah's father affixes her with a hairy eyeball for a steady
moment.
Bru: No. It's just eggnog. Whatever eggnog is.
Sar: I'll have a
rum and coke.
Bru: SANDOR???!!???
Sandor appears, as if dead and summoned by a necromancer.
His eyes are immediately drawn to the knife in Bruce's hand, and he hangs back
by the living room door, warily.
San: Yes, sir?
Bru: Would you like
a BEER, SANDOR???!! Go get yourself a
BEER from the back fridge! <He hacks away at the potato in his hand with the
knife, grinning.>
San: Yes…a
beer…<Sandor obeys, returns to couch.>
Matthew races back down the stairs, circles Bruce and Sarah
in the kitchen, divebombs Chris and Sandor on the sofa, and races out again. He's closely followed by Adam, who stops in
the kitchen to poke around for food.
Sar: Hi, Adam.
Adam: <in a gruff monotone>
Oh. <Extended pause, where Adam makes
a valiant teenage attempt to display normal human greeting customs, even though
they are, like, so lame.> Hi. <He
spots cheese and crackers on the table, makes a beeline. Starts eating, pausing only to breathe and
pluck a Pokémon card out from a vase of
flowers on the table, which he puts it in the fridge.>
Meanwhile, Désirée has begun pacing faster and faster around the
tree with a light meter. The flash on
the camera is going off rapidly.
Dé: Okay! Everybody
in here now! We're ready!
Matthew races in from SR, dragging a giant stuffed dog.
Matt: Ai-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi!!!!!
Bru, Dé, Sarah, in unison: Matthew! Pants!
Matthew races up the stairs, dragging the dog, just as
Ashley descends. Without breaking stride,
she lifts one leg and Matthew and the dog duck under it.
Ash: Matthew! Pants!
The characters reassemble in front of the Christmas tree,
where Désirée has placed two chairs.
Adam gravitates towards one chair, one hand holding the remains of a sandwich.
Dé: Adam! Where did you get that?
Adam: <sheepishly>
I was hungry. <Finishes sandwich,
self-consciously reconfigures face into adolescent scowl and assumes
"adult" voice. Gruffly:> I was hungry.
Sandor, Sarah, Ashley and Chris are standing awkwardly
around the Christmas tree, shifting their weight from foot to foot and trying
not to look at anything. Sandor reaches
into his back pocket and pulls out a Pokémon card, which he examines with interest. Ashley pokes her sister in the ribs with a
candy cane.
Sar: Ow! Quit it!
Ash: Whattya gonna
do about it, shorty?
Sar: <Grabbing
another candy cane off the tree>I'll get you.
Ash: <Still
jabbing> Oh yeah, you will, huh, huh? Whose gonna help you?
Sar: <Affecting a
British accent, in an ironic attempt to seem dignified, because she is, after
all, the oldest> I shall require
assistance from no one. <She jabs with her candy cane with the left hand,
and gives her sister a wet willy with the right, which always works, because Ashley is easily distractible>
Ash: Eughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Oh, that's it, you're dead!
Ashley pounces on her sister, and the two collapse into a
wrestling match on the floor, Sarah very quickly being pinned. Sandor and Chris start cheering for their
respective mates, while Adam looks on, amused.
Dé: Stop it, stop
it, stop it! Watch my lights! My lights! MY LIGHTS! Bru-uce!
Bru: <Barely
looking up from the sofa, where he'd settled, aimlessly playing with the
baseball bat.> SARASHLEY! Stop it!
Watch out for Désirée 's lights! NOW!
With a final administration of justice, Ashley gets off
Sarah, who lies dazed, for a moment. Ashley
gloats while Sandor helps his wife up. Her hair is utterly disheveled, and her
glasses wrenched.
San: You're
pathetic, you know that? You haven't won
for years.
Sar: The tide will
turn. It's only a matter of time. She can't get any bigger. My learning curve will improve.
Dé: Can we do
this? Bruce! Get over here! Matthew?!?
Bru: Mat-THEW! Get back down here! NOW!
Matthew races down the stairs, and plaster dust sifts from
the ceiling, along with a few Pokémon cards. He's wearing pants. They're backwards, but still pants. The family is satisfied. Désirée goes into photographer mode, and starts
arranging her family around the chairs.
Dé: Ashley left,
then Adam, then – Matthew don't touch that – then Chris behind Ashley, then
Bruce, then – Matthew! I said don't
touch that!
Bru: Matthew! Come here! <He grabs Matthew, sits him on the chair.> Stay. There. <Matthew immediately starts to slip under the chair and is
restrained bodily by Ashley, who gives him a Pokémon card>
Dé: Okay. I'm gonna set the timer, for five seconds.
Everybody ready? <Assorted yeses, nos, grunts and nods from the
company.> Good. Go!
Désirée races back to
the chairs, grabs Matthew onto her lap and sits down. The rest of the characters affix frozen
plastic smiles to their faces, except for Ashley, who affects an intense gaze
of amused distain that reads, "I realize that you think that because I am
sitting here for a Christmas photo, I am a stereotypical sheep of a first-year
college student, but you would be hideously mistaken: I am actually Poripherya,
Queen of Darkness and the Righteous Heir to the Sacred Goblet of Unholy
Blood." The characters keep this pose for a few moments, long enough to
make Désirée suspicious that something
is wrong with the camera.
Dé: It's not
working. <Getting up> I think
I'll…
CLICK
Dé: Dammit! <She gets up, readjusts the camera.
Meanwhile, Matthew escapes his bondage and darts behind the Christmas tree.>
Bru: Matthew! <He follows Matthew, who has now crawled under the tree, where a Pokémon card lies just out of reach. Pulling Matthew out by his ankles, Bruce gets
a shower of pine needles down the back.> AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! <He drops Matthew in Ashley's lap, who
pins both his arms down with one of her own as she links his ankles to the
floor with her feet. Matthew begins
flailing like a dying fish, his back arching. Ashley ignores him, and says something to Chris, who smiles. Bruce returns to his position behind the
chairs, and Sarah immediately begins grooming the pine needles out of his
sweater. She finds a Pokémon card, which she tosses to the floor. Sandor takes advantage of the fact that Sarah's
hands are occupied, and he gooses his wife.>
San: Tee-hee!
Sar: Ow! Quit it! <Sandor gooses her again> I
sa-aid, stop it! Dad! Sandor's pinching me!
Bru: San-DOR! Are you pinching Sarah?
San: Yes.
Bru: Good. Work the left side.
Sar: Dad!
San and Bru: Tee-hee!
Dé: Okay, I think
we're ready. I've got the push button
thing, so we don't need to use the timer. <She returns to the chair,
extracts Matthew from Ashley.>
Matt: I wanna press
the button.
Dé: Later. Okay, everybody read-
Matt: I wanna press
the button!!
Dé: In a minute
Matthew – everybody read-
Adam, dropping the cool adolescent demeanor which actually doesn't
involve pressing any literal buttons: Can
I press the button?
Dé: NO! Everybody look forward…ready? One…two…
CLICK
Bru: My eyes were
closed.
Chr: Mine too.
Sar: I think I was
squinting.
Matt: I wanna press
the button!
Adam: No, I'm pressing the button. I'm older.
Dé: Dammit. Okay. Everybody look at the camera…one…two…
Matthew pulls a Pokémon card out of nowhere, brandishes it in front of
his face.
CLICK
Dé: Matthew! <Wrenching the card away. She scolds him rapidly in French, the only
clear words being "Villain, toi!">
Again!
Matt: But I wanna
press the button!
Dé sighing: Okay,
once. Press this. GENTLY. NOT YET! Wait. WAIT! Everyone,
look ahead…one, two…
CLICK
A flash. Stage lights go 100%, than blackout, then return to
normal, with the family framed by a rectangular gobo.
The Neville family, from left to right, beginning in the
rear:
Chris, smiling but looking awkward and uncomfortable. He has his hand on Ashley's shoulder, as if
she's a touchstone that will keep him from being carried off into the
madness. To his left is Bruce, decidedly
resigned to the chaos unfolding around him. He has a handful of pine needles in his hair and is gazing down on his
youngest son with a concerned expression, brow furrowed. To his left is Sarah, whose face is contorted
with shock. Her glasses are
crooked. Beside her is Sandor, whose
gleeful grin reveals that he's the source of Sarah's shock. His right hand is
hidden from view. In the front row, from the left, Ashley's picture-perfect
gaze of distain is unbroken and she clutches a candy cane like a scepter. Adam's body is turned toward his little
brother, who he's watching with undisguised envy. Sitting straight up, Matthew clutches the
remote shutter button with both hands, a giant grin splitting his face. Désirée sits primly, as if she belongs in a
much more civilized photograph.
Surrounding the family like new-fallen snow, the stage has
been blanketed in Pokémon cards.
Blackout.
