I often struggle with how to classify my plays. For the most part they end tragically, or at least with someone dead. Lots of death in my writing, but that's something to talk about another day. And even though my plays are dark and twisted, there's often a lot of comedy in them. But no way could they be classified as comedies.
In any case, here's an upbeat scene for three actors, from "The Deepest Trench" (a play about a romance that never was because one of them dies). Funny story, "Love, Virtually" is also a play I wrote where the two lovers don't get to be together because one of them dies, but that one I consider a comedy. Weird. Promotional photo from the Portland Playhouse production of The Deepest Trench
SCENE 3
A living room. Kate and Emma sit together talking. Ryan is off to the side, reading a comic book.
KATE: He actually said that to you?
EMMA: Yep, right before he handed me the goldfish.
KATE: The goldfish from the carnival?
EMMA: That's the one.
KATE: I don't get it. What does a goldfish have to do with laundry?
RYAN: Guys I'm really hungry. Want some pizza?
EMMA: Apparently the fact that I refused to wash his socks with my clothes meant I wasn't fully accepting him into my life and I would never truly invest in our relationship.
RYAN: I'm going to go down to Oven Mitts and pick up a pizza.
KATE: But you let the guy move in with you. That's pretty accepting. What a douche.
EMMA: It's pretty far-fetched right? I mean, from socks? I just didn't want my clothes smelling bad. You wash your clothes with smelly socks and despite the soap and everything they always come out smelling a bit off.
KATE: And his feet did stink.
EMMA: I know right?!
RYAN: So Emma, you like mushrooms on your pizza right?
KATE: That time you threw that dinner party and he took his shoes off under the table...
EMMA: Yes! I thought someone had run over a skunk nearby.
RYAN: I remember cause last time you made that joke about circumcised penis pizza.
KATE: So that's it?
RYAN: Which was pretty gross.
EMMA: Yep.
KATE: Probably for the best anyway.
RYAN: But who doesn't like a dirty joke right?
EMMA: Right so... I was hoping maybe I could crash here for a bit.
KATE: I thought the apartment was yours?
EMMA: Yeah but it costs too much and I always hated my neighbour.
KATE: The one who had really loud sex at 2am?
RYAN: No one wants pizza?
EMMA: Nah, the guy with the vegetable garden. He was always trying to give me something he grew, yammering on about how organic and fresh it was and going off on tangents about pesticides. Besides, everything would just smell like feet.
KATE: The vegetables?
EMMA: The apartment.
KATE: Right.
RYAN: Maybe my voice is on a frequency below your threshold of hearing. You both should get an audiogram test.
EMMA: I'll pay rent.
KATE: Thing is, my brother… he's got the other bedroom, and as fun as it was to share a room with you in res, I think we're a bit old for that now.
EMMA: Oh. Yeah, sure. I get it. It just would be nice to, you know, spend a bit more time with you. That's all.
KATE: Oh. Yeah. Well… maybe Ryan wouldn't mind giving up his room.
RYAN: Wouldn't mind what? Hello right here.
EMMA: No, no no. I could totally take the couch.
KATE: Oh don't be ridiculous. I'm sure he won't mind.
RYAN: It's finally happened. Like Xander in episode four point four of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm invisible.
KATE: This'll be fun. The two of us, living together again.
EMMA: Totally.
KATE: Let's celebrate with a chick flick movie night.
EMMA: Yes! Ooh, we should get some pizza.
RYAN: Like I'm not even here.
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