Michael Parsons
    __________________________________________________________

The Last Coronado  
 

A Play in Ten Minutes
 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAE: 
 
 

DARIEN:    F, early 20s.  Bright, energetic,

                              fearless, longing for answers to

                              questions she didn’t know she

                              had.  Wants to be an explorer. 
 

CORONADO:    M, 40s +.  A conquistador and

            man of adventure, the last of the

            great explorers, grown weary of

            not having anywhere great left to

            explore.  
 

PLAYER 1:    A troubadour.  Female, 20s-40s.

Wears a mask, the sort you would find at a costume ball.  For the purposes of this writing, Player 1 is a woman. 
 

PLAYER 2:    A troubadour.  Male, 20s-40s. 

              Wears a mask, the sort you would

              find at a costume ball.  For the

              purposes of this writing, Player

              2 is a man.  
 

PLAYER 3:    A troubadour.  May be male or

                              female, 20s-40s.  Wears a mask,

                              the sort you would find at a

                              costume ball.  For the purposes

                              of this writing, Player 3 is a

                              man.

Setting 
 

Madlab Theatre, downtown Columbus, Ohio, corner of Grant and Long Streets.  A bare performance space converted to a black box theater by the use of folding chairs on the edges, stage right and left. 
 
 

Time 
 

Roughly 10:05 pm, Saturday, July 26, 2008 – at least, in the space where Time actually holds dominion.

THE LAST CORONADO 
 

SETTING:  A bare stage, at the end of a ten

            minute play festival called PRJECT 10. 

AT RISE:  LIGHTS UP on four points of the stage: 

CENTER STAGE (CS), STAGE RIGHT (SR), STAGE LEFT (SL), AND UPSTAGE CENTER (USC).  Inside each light, a FIGURE stands.  A man stands like a conquistador CS, hand on sword hilt.  This is CORONADO.  PLAYER 1 is frozen in an enticing and sexual pose SL.  PLAYER 2 strikes a figure of sorrow SR.  PLAYER 3 is in a pose of deep contemplation, evoking “The Thinker”.   

                  PLAYER 1

Begin. 

(After a beat, DARIEN enters from SR, examining the frozen PLAYERS and CORONADO as she takes in the stage.  Young, energetic, she is in wonder/curious/uncertain.  She moves to Downstage Center (DSC), trying to peer through the darkness.) 

                  DARIEN

It’s dark out there. 

                  CORONADO 

Oh, don’t worry.  They can see you. 

                  DARIEN

Who are you? 

                  CORONADO

Isn’t it obvious? 

(A look; they BOTH touch their own faces, CORONADO subtly mirroring DARIEN’s own movements.) 
 
 

      DARIEN                     CORONADO

You’re older than        You’re younger than

I imagined.                   I imagined. 

(DARIEN motions to CORONADO’s groin, CORONADO’s own gesture references DARIEN’s breasts.  They share a look.) 

                  DARIEN/CORONADO

And...different. 

                  CORONADO

Softer. 

                  DARIEN

Harder. 

                  DARIEN/CORONADO

Sometimes. 

                  DARIEN

Do you mind? 

                  CORONADO

Different.  New.  

      (Thinks a moment) 

Not at all.  

                  DARIEN

Good.  I have no plans to change.   

                  CORONADO

You will.  Everyone does. 

                  DARIEN 

Why? 

                  CORONADO

Scientists can explain it technically.  Poets can express it lyrically.  I prefer to just...let the experience wash over me.  When it happens, I know.  And I learn. 

                  DARIEN 

Where are we? 

                  CORONADO

The Grand Finale, of course. 

                  DARIEN

The end? 

                  CORONADO

The extreme.  Very.  Final.  End.   

                  DARIEN

But I haven’t even started. 

                  CORONADO

Are you sure?  This has been going on for a couple of hours, now.   

                  DARIEN

For who? 

                  CORONADO

For whom? 

                  DARIEN

Yes. 

                  CORONADO

Them.

      (encompasses the audience.) 

And them. 

      (encompasses the chairs on stage right.) 

And them. 

      (encompasses the chairs on stage left.)   

                  DARIEN

What about her?

      (points to PLAYER 1) 

                  CORONADO

Not her.  She just started, same as you. 

                  DARIEN

What’s the difference? 

                  CORONADO

There is nothing more subjective than Time. 

                  DARIEN

Masks?  Why the masks? 

                  CORONADO

It’s a thing here.  Very chic.   

                  PLAYER 2

Focus. 

                  CORONADO

He’s right. Time’s almost out. 

                  DARIEN

I thought Time was subjective. 

                  CORONADO 

Nothing is completely subjective.  Everything is eventually caught by Time.  And so are we. 

                  DARIEN

Time is almost up? 

                  CORONADO

I believe we’ve covered that.   

                  DARIEN

But we’ve barely begun. 

                  CORONADO

Really?  From my standpoint, we’ve come so far.   

                  DARIEN

But we haven’t gotten anywhere. 

                  CORONADO

The journey is the destination, young one.   

                  DARIEN

I don’t know that. 

                  CORONADO

So learn.  Remember what I said?  Let the experience wash over you.  And learn. 

(DARIEN closes her eyes, stretches her arms out to take in the experience.) 

                  DARIEN

Like this? 

                  CORONADO

Relax more.

      (she does)

Better. 

                  DARIEN

It’s there.  It’s...around me.  I can...hear it. 

                  CORONADO

What is it saying? 

                  PLAYER 1

      (moves now)

A tone deaf minstrel in muted spotlight, sings a love song for you, off-key –  

                  CORONADO

Ah.  Love. 

                  DARIEN

It’s beautiful.  I – can’t describe it. 

                  PLAYER 3

      (moves now)

The words have left me now. 

                  PLAYER 2

      (moves now)

Once I did possess them 

                  PLAYER 1

Or perhaps they held deed to me 

                  PLAYER 3

Or perhaps they were never mine to own. 

            PLAYER 1/PLAYER 2/PLAYER 3

It does not matter now. 

(At this point, the PLAYERS begin to get closer to DARIEN as the next part begins, circling her as the speed of their delivery also increases.  No line is stepped on, but the pace becomes tighter and tighter, until they may as well become one voice.  The formatting of this section reflects this.) 
 

                 PLAYER 1 

Words.

           PLAYER 2

      Strung together by

              PLAYER 3

            Syllables comprised of letters

       PLAYER 1

Reserving sounds for themselves.

          PLAYER 2

      Alone, limited.

              PLAYER 3

            Together, boundless. 

(a beat)

                  DARIEN

The voices, the sound.  It’s beautiful. 

                  CORONADO

It’s life. 

(THE PLAYERS continue.) 

         PLAYER 1/PLAYER 2/PLAYER 3

      Somewhere somewhen someone before 

     PLAYER 1

has made the proper concoction

         PLAYER 2

      strung together the sounds

            PLAYER 3

            Representing breadth of thought

     PLAYER 1

And depth of passion

        PLAYER 2

Intertwined in their dance

            PLAYER 3

Smile touch caress pulse

     PLAYER 1

Breathe

      PLAYER 2

      Kiss

            PLAYER 3

            Worship 

      (DARIEN begins to feel the intensity) 

                  DARIEN

Strong.  It’s – strong. 

PLAYER 1

Hold me

      PLAYER 2

      Caress me

            PLAYER 3

            Possess me

PLAYER 1

Want

      PLAYER 2

      Desire

            PLAYER 3

            Need 

PLAYER 1

Need you

      PLAYER 2

      Need me

            PLAYER 3

            Need to reject me 

                  DARIEN

What’s happening? 

PLAYER 1

I loved you 

      PLAYER 2

      why did you kill me

            PLAYER 3 

            I loved you

PLAYER 1

Why did you shatter me

      PLAYER 2

      I loved you I loved you

            PLAYER 3

            I love you still 

                  DARIEN

It’s too much – 

PLAYER 1

Still breathing

      PLAYER 2

      Stillborn 

            PLAYER 3

            Still blaming 

(THE PLAYERS have closed in, and are almost on top of DARIEN now, repeating.  She is panicked, drowning in emotion.) 

                  DARIEN

Help me! 

                  CORONADO

Control it!  You have to take control! 

                  DARIEN

Stop...

      (THE PLAYERS continue)

Stop.

      (THE PLAYERS continue)

STOP!!!

(THE PLAYERS splinter off and return to their areas of light.  They stop.  CORONADO goes to DARIEN and holds her.) 

                  DARIEN

It’s horrible! 

                  CORONADO

It’s life. 

                  DARIEN

      (pulls away)

Is it that bad? 

                  CORONADO

If we wish it. 

                  DARIEN

But why? 

                  CORONADO

I am an explorer, not a philosopher.  And that is an answer I have not found yet.  

                  DARIEN

So raw.  So hurtful.  That is love? 

                  CORONADO

The answer is not that simple. 

                  DARIEN

Where did that...come from? 

                  CORONADO

From out there.  In here, you are linked to everything they share.  Common experience, defined in this space, in these four walls, viewed by them as portrayed by us.  Each life a different experience; each soul interprets what is objectively given, subjectively.  And that emotion, in whatever guise it is using, that emotion – love – is the source of it all.  It is the true City of Gold. 

                  DARIEN

Love? 

                  CORONADO

Golden.   

                  DARIEN

So love is not like that...always? 

                  CORONADO

Or alwhen.  You will let it wash over you, and you will learn.  They have.  I have.  You will.  It will not always be horrific.  It will be – in whatever form – beautiful beyond description.  You’ll learn.   

                  DARIEN

And you won’t? 

                  CORONADO

I am an explorer, an aged one. I’ve seen too much.  My time is almost over, and it is time to step aside. 

                  DARIEN

No. 

                  PLAYER 1

The way of things. 

                  PLAYER 2

Old gives way for young. 
 

                  PLAYER 3

Time flows downhill; it accelerates down the slipstream. 

                  DARIEN

No!  Shut up, all of you!  You can’t go; I’m not ready.  You have so much more to teach me.   

                  CORONADO

They will teach you.  All of them, out there. This place has little use for me anymore. I have spent my days exploring the worlds I swept across, until there was nothing more to see.  All that is, is known; all that I feel has been said, or written on a page, or given voice by reed or string.  Further exploration merely re-charts subjective courses in old domains.  I am no longer an explorer; only a tour guide.  And explorers such as yourself –

      (hands DARIEN his sword)

...has no need for a tour guide. 

                  DARIEN

I don’t know if I can do this. 

                  CORONADO

Explore? 

                  DARIEN

Be alone. 

                  CORONADO

The beauty of youth; you rediscover that which is known and forgotten by the old.  You learn.   

                  PLAYER 3

Time cannot be abended further.   

                  PLAYER 2

The way of things; finite.  

                  DARIEN

It’s still so dark out there. 

                  CORONADO

The wilds alwhen are. 

                  DARIEN

It’s all right; I can see enough to start.

                  CORONADO

That’s all an explorer should ask for. 

                  DARIEN

      (pause)

Thank you. 

                  CORONADO

Thank yourself.

      (smiles)

Now go.  It’s your world now.  Make it new again. 
 

(DARIEN smiles, touches CORONADO’s face softly.  He mirrors the gesture by touching hers the same way.  They both take a step back, and bow to each other.  Then DARIEN turns and EXITS though the audience.  CORONADO and the PLAYERS return to their starting poses at the beginning of the piece.) 

                  CORONADO

For all of us who have visited this stage tonight, our stories are at an end.  For you, your exploration has not even begun.  We thank you for witnessing our journey, and we hope some part of us accompanies you for awhile on your own. 

                  PLAYER 1

Finish.

      (They FREEZE.) 
 
 

                  BLACKOUT

Chasing Ozymandias

ACT I 

(The stage is black as the curtain rises.  A single LIGHT illuminates center stage.  Into this light walks a young woman, dressed professionally with appropriate hair and makeup.  This is JACQUELYN SINCLAIR, but we will come to know her as JACKS: 

Upon reaching the light, she surveys the audience, and begins to recite a famous poem: 

            JACKS

I met a traveler from an antique land 
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone 
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, 
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, 
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, 
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read, 
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, 
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed, 
And on the pedestal these words appear: 
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: 
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" 
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay 
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare 
The lone and level sands stretch far away. 

JACKS turns and exits.  The rest of the stage now interests us. 

There are two chairs SR, facing each other yet angled out.  A man, a relatively fit 35, sits slouched in the far right chair.  He is dressed in comfortable clothing, stylish yet casual, shirt and slacks.  This is T. PAUL SINCLAIR.  He has his fingers pursed, lost in thought. 

A CIRCLE OF LIGHT appears Stage Right, and a woman, lithe, young (20’s-30’s) and graceful, steps into the light.  For our purposes, we’ll call her STORMY.) 

            STORMY

Permission to come aboard, Cap’n? 

            T. PAUL

Permission granted. 

(STORMY steps onto the ‘boat’ SR.  T. PAUL stays in his chair CS, back to her.  They do not interact; the blackness between them keeps them separated.) 

            STORMY

How was your day? 

            T. PAUL

Words are coming along.  It feels great, actually.  Yours? 

            STORMY

Souvenir hunting on Pike Street.  Found something interesting. 

            T. PAUL

What’s that? 

            STORMY

Just a little book in a secondhand shop.  Written by you. 

            T. PAUL

Oh, crap.  You did not do that. 

            STORMY

I’m afraid to say, yes.  I did.  Right here.  And I’m sure I can get it autographed by the author.   

            T. PAUL

I doubt that very much. 

            STORMY

Interesting title.  Where the hell did you come up with it? 

            T. PAUL

Just lucky, I guess.   

(A door opens SL and a man ENTERS. This is DOCTOR ZIGLAR.  He has a set of files in his hands.  T. PAUL does not acknowledge his presence.  The DOCTOR sits in the chair opposite T. PAUL CS.) 

            STORMY

What’s up there that’s got your interest? 

            T. PAUL

Clouds.  Over the sound. 

(Looks up)

Storm’s coming. 

      (LIGHTS FADE on STORMY.  She EXITS.) 

      DOCTOR

Good morning.

      (T. PAUL does not reply.)

My name is Dr. Ziglar.  I’ll be conducting your interview.  Whatever you say in here is completely confidential.  How are you doing?

      (No response from T. PAUL.)

Do you know why you’re here?

      (No response.)

We may as well get started.  Please state your name for the record.

      (Pause)

Can you speak? 

            T. PAUL

I can wag my tail and fetch, too.  But only if I get one of those little Snausages.  Love those things.   

            DOCTOR

You can speak to me.  Good. 

            T. PAUL

Can?  Sure.  Will?  That’s another story.

(T. PAUL adjusts himself in his seat.) 

            DOCTOR

All right.  If you want it that way.  State your name, please.

      (Still no response.)

I have it here anyway. 
 

                  T. PAUL

If you know it, why did you ask for it? 

                  DOCTOR

Its just part of the process. 

            T. PAUL

A process is a scripted action, performed by someone who doesn’t have any idea of what to do next.  In other words, a waste of time.  Just like this. 

            DOCTOR

I’ll keep that in mind.

(Reads file)

Templeton Paul Howell Sinclair. 

      (Pause)

That’s a hell of a moniker. 

                  T. PAUL

You have no idea.   

            DOCTOR

With a name like Torvold Ziglar?  I might. 

            T. PAUL

You have a point.  Dr. Ziggy.  The Clown Prince of Therapy.  Makes you sound like a shrink that does kids parties, bar mitzvahs, makes balloon Rorschach ink blots.  

            DOCTOR

That’s funny.   

            T. PAUL

      (Gestures with his hand, “so-so”.) 

            DOCTOR

Do you know why you’re here? 

            T. PAUL

Yes. 

            DOCTOR

Would you like to share that information? 

            T. PAUL

No. 

            DOCTOR

May I ask why not? 

            T. PAUL

You may.  But you won’t get anywhere. 

            DOCTOR

Why not? 

(A look from T. PAUL)

Ah.  Process. 

            T. PAUL

Process.  Besides, you already know why I’m here. 

            DOCTOR

Sure.  What I want to know is if you know why you’re here. 

            T. PAUL

Enlighten me. 

            DOCTOR

All right.  

(Opens file)

Mr. Sinclair, you were arrested for public intoxication, indecent exposure, assaulting a police officer, and resisting arrest.   

            T. PAUL

That’s known as ‘hitting for the cycle.’  It’s nothing. 

            DOCTOR

Here’s something.

(Returns to the report)

Prior to arrest, you were found on the rooftop of an apartment building, threatening to jump. 

            T. PAUL

I was not going to jump.  It was a party. 

            DOCTOR

You were naked.  

            T. PAUL

It was a good party. 

            DOCTOR

Attempted suicide is not a joke, Mr. Sinclair. 

                  T. PAUL

It wasn’t ... that. 

                  DOCTOR

That is up in the air.  And that’s why I’m here.

      (Beat)

According to the report, you were talking to someone who wasn’t there. 

            T. PAUL

Lies, lies, falsehoods and untruths, Ziggy. 

            DOCTOR

Do you know a Karen Vance? 

            T. PAUL

Name rings a bell.   

            DOCTOR

It should.  She’s the one putting her neck on the line for you.  Pulled every string she had to keep you out of jail.  As the Cuyahoga County Assistant District Attorney, she’s got quite a few of them to pull. 

            T. PAUL

Damn.  Makes you wonder what a guy’s got to do to get arrested around here. 

            DOCTOR

Nobody’s talking arrest right now, Mr. Sinclair.  Right now, this is just a patient, talking with an evaluator. 

                  T. PAUL

Evaluator? 

                  DOCTOR

Let’s make this clear, Mr. Sinclair.  I’m not here as your counsel, your advocate, or your doctor.  I’m here to determine whether or not you are a danger to yourself, or even more importantly, to others.  That’s my only concern right now.  And the only way we learn that is to talk.   

            T. PAUL

Fine.  So.  Talk. 

            DOCTOR

Do you have a history of drinking, Mr. Sinclair? 

            T. PAUL

Not more than the average Kennedy. 

            DOCTOR

That’s a high average. 

            T. PAUL

Some people collect stamps.  I have a different hobby.  It’s a free country. 

            DOCTOR

(Reading file)

Why did you assault a police officer? 

            T. PAUL

Well, it wasn’t really an assault.  At least, not intentionally.

(DOCTOR motions T. PAUL to continue)

I, uh, peed on him. 

            DOCTOR

On his shoes? 

            T. PAUL

On his face.

(Off the DOCTOR’s look)

He was coming up the fire escape.  I didn’t see him.  And I really had to go. 

DOCTOR

Okay.  Your occupation? 

            T. PAUL

Professional vagabond. 

            DOCTOR

Your arrest report lists your occupation as ‘writer’. 

            T. PAUL

I am not a writer.  Of all the things I can lay claim to, ‘writer’ is not one of them. 

            DOCTOR

You wrote a book.

            T. PAUL

Monkeys can write books. 

            DOCTOR

So you consider yourself a monkey?   

            T. PAUL

Skip the monkey bit before you get feces tossed at you.   

            DOCTOR

You did write a book, though.  Ten years ago.   

            T. PAUL

Did you read it? 

            DOCTOR

No. 

            T. PAUL

Take my word for it on the monkey issue. 

            DOCTOR

Your grandfather was a writer. 

            T. PAUL

My grandfather was a lot of things. 

            DOCTOR

He was William Howell.  One of the best writers of his generation. 

      (Looks up)

Your grandfather wrote The Lion of Barrington.  How does that make you feel? 

            T. PAUL

Warm and squishy inside. 

            DOCTOR

You don’t seem to enjoy that fact. 

            T. PAUL

It has its moments, being the spawn of fame. 

            DOCTOR

Being the grandson of William Howell, I can surmise that you also have a history of – 

            T. PAUL

(Overlapping)

-- Don’t go there -- 

            DOCTOR

-- Mental illness in your family. 

            T. PAUL

Now you’re playing dirty. 

            DOCTOR

I’m just trying to get a hold of the current circumstances surrounding you.   

            T. PAUL

Let me guess: part of the process. 

            DOCTOR

More or less. 

            T. PAUL

Well, thanks for the stimulating conversation, Ziggy, but I’ve about pegged my process meter for the day.  I’m leaving. 

            DOCTOR

Very well.  The door out is behind me.   

            T. PAUL

In that case...adios, Ziggy. 

(T. PAUL gets up to leave.) 

            DOCTOR

As you wish, Mr. Sinclair. 

            T. PAUL

What’s that supposed to mean? 

            DOCTOR

You’re an educated man, judging from your file.  What do you think it means? 

            T. PAUL

It means I wish to leave.  And you’re correct, I rightly do.  So I’m going to leave and you’re not going to stop me.

                  T. PAUL (CONT’D)

(Pause)

Why aren’t you going to stop me? 

            DOCTOR

Why do you think? 

            T. PAUL

You’re a shrink.  How the hell do I know what you’re thinking? 

            DOCTOR

I prefer the term ‘psychiatrist’. 

            T. PAUL

Whatever.  You’re a head doctor with a file.  You can’t be trusted. 

            DOCTOR

That’s not true.  I’m very trustworthy.    

            T. PAUL

Never trust a guy who says he’s trustworthy.   

            DOCTOR

I won’t lie to you, Mr. Sinclair.  I promise you that.  Between you and me, in this room, I will not lie to you.  Ever. 

            T. PAUL

So, Ziggy - confirm or deny: you have no right to stop me from leaving this place.  

            DOCTOR

Confirm.  I have no right. 

            T. PAUL

Great.  Sayonara. 

(T. Paul reaches for door.) 

            DOCTOR

However, Judge Robert A. Lawson of the Cuyahoga County court, now he has the authority to have you remanded over to a psychiatric ward.  To determine if you are a threat to yourself or others.  Me, I can’t hold a canary in a cage.  

            T. PAUL

Well, you can tell him I’m not a threat to anyone.  

            DOCTOR

You can tell him yourself.  By agreeing to sit through this interview.   

            T. PAUL

News flash: I’m not a threat to ANYone.  And no judge has a right to say I am.

            DOCTOR

Actually, he does.  District Attorney Vance asked Judge Lawson for this favor regarding your case.  He agreed to keep you out of jail, and your rather prominent family name out of the headlines, provided you stay here until your evaluation is done.  The fact that Judge Lawson is a

golfing buddy of your father’s, and his former law firm partner, probably did not hurt things.  But, and I mean this, you walk out that door, that favor’s over, and you become his problem, not Ms. Vance’s.  One he will resolve in a very direct and unpleasant way. 

            T. PAUL

And how do you fit in to this? 

            DOCTOR

I, also, play golf with Judge Lawson.  He called.  I’m here. 

            T. PAUL

Ah.  And now, you want to interview me. 

            DOCTOR

It’s what I do.  I help people. 

            T. PAUL

Right.  Let me see.  Upon further review --no. 

            DOCTOR

All right.  Good luck to you, then. 

            T. PAUL

Good luck to me how? 
 

            DOCTOR

I mean, good luck getting away from the two court bailiffs sitting outside that door. 

            T. PAUL

There’s not anyone out there.   

            DOCTOR

You’re right. 

(pause)

Maybe.

(pause)

Maybe not.

(pause)

Maybe you’re wrong.

(pause)

Yes, you’re definitely wrong.  

            T. PAUL

You’re bluffing. 

            DOCTOR

Sure, I’m bluffing.  I’m bluffing about the fact that if anyone opens that door but me, those two bailiffs will arrest that person and toss them into jail for violating a court order.  And there they will rot while a very slow legal system churns its wheels, only to let the defendant have his day in court...in front of the same judge whose orders were violated in the first place.  And then, that judge will take his gavel and bludgeon you with it when he sentences you to a two-year term in a psychiatric ward...just because he can.   

            T. PAUL

That’s a hell of a bluff. 

            DOCTOR

Or it could be the truth.  Sit down, Mr. Sinclair.  We’ll have a little talk, and when we’re done, if you’re not a threat to anyone, you can go home.  No charges, except for probably the police officer’s dry cleaning bill.  All it will cost you is a couple of hours of your time.  It’s that simple. 

            T. PAUL

And if I don’t? 

            DOCTOR

In short, I’ll tell the judge you’re fucking nuts.

(Beat)

Please, Mr. Sinclair.  Sit down. 

(Pause.  T. PAUL considers the options.  After a long moment, he starts to return to his seat.) 

            T. PAUL

Remind me never to play poker with you.  And for the record?  This is crap.  A complete waste of time, Zigmund.   

            DOCTOR

So prove it to me, Mr. Sinclair.  Only you can do that, by agreeing to this interview.  Come on, Mr. Sinclair...talk to me.  I want to be on your side here. 

            T. PAUL

Sure you do.

(Sigh)

All right, Ziggy.  We’ll play your way.  Not like I have a choice anyway.  But I’ve got one question first. 

            DOCTOR

What’s that? 

            T. PAUL

Is “fucking nuts” a medical term? 

            DOCTOR

You’re stalling.  Just sit back and start at the beginning.  Tell me what happened.  How does your story start? 

            T. PAUL

Same way they all start, Ziggy.  Same way they all start. 

(Gathers himself)

It starts with a girl.

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Michael S. Parsons is a playwright whose work has been staged multiple times.  Full length plays include White Russian and Chasing Ozymandias; one act plays include The Brass Ring, Last Call and Pas de Deux, among others.  He is a first year NEOMFA student, and lives - for now - in Kent.

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