Dirty Pokemon
HITMONCHAN
I'll kick you in the face!
HITMONCHAN
I'll punch you in the face!
BLASTIOCE
I'll shoot all my water in your face!
HITMONLEE
Ewww gross.
CUBONE
I'll use my bone to whack you off.
HITMONCHAN
That sounds even worse.
END
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Monday, February 1, 2010
NEW HOME
I'm moving my blog to Tumbler.com because they offer better service and I can use it via my facebook. You can still follow me at arthurdoesaplayeverday.tumblr.com
Thanks, that is all.
Thanks, that is all.
Tom Brokaw and Frank Sinatra
Paul: Brians roommate
Brian
Tom Brokah: A pug
(Brian is sitting in a messy apartment. He is playing with Tom Brokaw. Paul enters)
Paul: What’s that?
Brian: It’s my new dog. Paul meet Tom Brokaw, Paul Brokaw meet my roommate Paul.
Paul: you named your dog Tom Brokaw?
Brian: I name all my pets after news men I have ever since my first cat, Edward R. Murrow. She was a good cat.
Paul: We aren’t allowed to have dogs
Brian: No it’s all right, I asked the super he said it’s cool as long as no one complains.
Paul: You should have told me you were going to get a dog. We have to get rid of it.
Brian: Why do we have to get rid of it. I can take care of him I’ve had dogs before.
Paul: Because we can’t keep a dog. It will….. Take shits.
Brian: It will shit outside.
(beat)
Paul: I don’t like dogs.
Brian: What do you mean you don’t like dogs?
Paul: They are nasty fithy things
Brian: How can you not like dogs? That’s like saying you don’t like Frank Sinatra. Everyone likes them.
Paul: Well I don’t like dogs and actually I don’t like Frank Sinartra that much ether
(Beat)
Brian: What is wrong with you?
Paul: Look, we have been friends for years, and you are one of the best roommates I have ever had. You are an awesome guy and I want to live with you. Hell, you bought my mother a gift on her birthday. Who is that nice? So don’t take it lightly when I say: Ether the dog goes or I do.
(Beat)
Brian: How can you not like Frank Sinatra?
Paul: Answer the question!
Brian: you really don’t like Frank Sinatra
Paul: I think he is boring
Brian: you can move out tomorrow
END
Brian
Tom Brokah: A pug
(Brian is sitting in a messy apartment. He is playing with Tom Brokaw. Paul enters)
Paul: What’s that?
Brian: It’s my new dog. Paul meet Tom Brokaw, Paul Brokaw meet my roommate Paul.
Paul: you named your dog Tom Brokaw?
Brian: I name all my pets after news men I have ever since my first cat, Edward R. Murrow. She was a good cat.
Paul: We aren’t allowed to have dogs
Brian: No it’s all right, I asked the super he said it’s cool as long as no one complains.
Paul: You should have told me you were going to get a dog. We have to get rid of it.
Brian: Why do we have to get rid of it. I can take care of him I’ve had dogs before.
Paul: Because we can’t keep a dog. It will….. Take shits.
Brian: It will shit outside.
(beat)
Paul: I don’t like dogs.
Brian: What do you mean you don’t like dogs?
Paul: They are nasty fithy things
Brian: How can you not like dogs? That’s like saying you don’t like Frank Sinatra. Everyone likes them.
Paul: Well I don’t like dogs and actually I don’t like Frank Sinartra that much ether
(Beat)
Brian: What is wrong with you?
Paul: Look, we have been friends for years, and you are one of the best roommates I have ever had. You are an awesome guy and I want to live with you. Hell, you bought my mother a gift on her birthday. Who is that nice? So don’t take it lightly when I say: Ether the dog goes or I do.
(Beat)
Brian: How can you not like Frank Sinatra?
Paul: Answer the question!
Brian: you really don’t like Frank Sinatra
Paul: I think he is boring
Brian: you can move out tomorrow
END
Sunday, January 31, 2010
End of the Line
End of the Line
(Joe sits inside of a train car. The train is moving, you can see images go by threw the windows. Joe is looking down reading a news paper. The cover of the paper is of a old man who looks like Mark Twain. Joe looks at the audience)
Joe: My imagination gets the best of me sometimes. When I was a kid I thought the people on TV where real so I smashed my head through the screen to try and meet them. I once thought that there where monsters under my bed, so I through ten M-80’s under it. Burned down half my house. So now I stuck here. Waiting to get off. The sad part is, in my head, I might never get off. This train might never stop and I will be stuck here an eternity. It’s not that hard to imagine.
After my dad died, my mom started moving me and my brother across country in her broken station wagon. We only went to sunny places because it had no roof in the back. I don’t know how it got torn off, but I think that is how she got it so cheap. MY brother and I we used to lie down in the back and look at the clouds. At first I saw thing like dogs kangaroos in the clouds. My brother just saw clouds. He didn’t have an imagination.
My brother died of skin cancer when he was 14. Too much sun. I was hunted by the thought that it could have been me that died. He was my twin, no reason that I couldn’t have died. My mother and I still drove across the country. The clouds started to look like sharks and demons so I didn’t look at them anymore.
I work as an artist. I draw the covers of since fiction novels. The really bad ones with the big aliens on the cover, or cyborgs on the cover or maybe alien cyborgs on the cover. The kind that the only people that read them are the ones who are terrible crosses of nerds and nutcases. I like the job because I don’t have to leave the house that much. I leave the house rarely. Once a week. I visit my family’s graves. I take this train. Every time I get on this train I think it might crash and I really will visit my family. I’ll be buried right next to them.
(The train door opens)
But ever time that door opens I get to imagine that when I walk out and see their graves they will still be alive and waiting for me. I know what they would tell me. They would say that I need to go out and live my life. That is the one thing I can’t imagine and that’s sad.
But I hope one day I can go out and stop being afraid and see the clouds again.
(Joe sits inside of a train car. The train is moving, you can see images go by threw the windows. Joe is looking down reading a news paper. The cover of the paper is of a old man who looks like Mark Twain. Joe looks at the audience)
Joe: My imagination gets the best of me sometimes. When I was a kid I thought the people on TV where real so I smashed my head through the screen to try and meet them. I once thought that there where monsters under my bed, so I through ten M-80’s under it. Burned down half my house. So now I stuck here. Waiting to get off. The sad part is, in my head, I might never get off. This train might never stop and I will be stuck here an eternity. It’s not that hard to imagine.
After my dad died, my mom started moving me and my brother across country in her broken station wagon. We only went to sunny places because it had no roof in the back. I don’t know how it got torn off, but I think that is how she got it so cheap. MY brother and I we used to lie down in the back and look at the clouds. At first I saw thing like dogs kangaroos in the clouds. My brother just saw clouds. He didn’t have an imagination.
My brother died of skin cancer when he was 14. Too much sun. I was hunted by the thought that it could have been me that died. He was my twin, no reason that I couldn’t have died. My mother and I still drove across the country. The clouds started to look like sharks and demons so I didn’t look at them anymore.
I work as an artist. I draw the covers of since fiction novels. The really bad ones with the big aliens on the cover, or cyborgs on the cover or maybe alien cyborgs on the cover. The kind that the only people that read them are the ones who are terrible crosses of nerds and nutcases. I like the job because I don’t have to leave the house that much. I leave the house rarely. Once a week. I visit my family’s graves. I take this train. Every time I get on this train I think it might crash and I really will visit my family. I’ll be buried right next to them.
(The train door opens)
But ever time that door opens I get to imagine that when I walk out and see their graves they will still be alive and waiting for me. I know what they would tell me. They would say that I need to go out and live my life. That is the one thing I can’t imagine and that’s sad.
But I hope one day I can go out and stop being afraid and see the clouds again.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friend of the Devil Part Three
PART THREE
Ted: You can deal first.
(death starts to deal the cards)
Death: so what is your dad’s name?
Ted: Jim, Jim Clark
Death: Hmmmm Jim Clark. Died December 5, 1996.
Ted: yeah how did you know?
Death: don’t ask stupid questions.
Ted: Oh right, you killed him I forgot. What was he like? Did you enjoy killing my dad?
Death:Took the whole dyeing this pretty lightly, wasn’t a little bitch like you are.
Ted: I think I’m handling this pretty well. You are the one who is bitching all the time. “Oh my job is sooo tough, my boss is an asshole, I had to kill the dinosaurs all by myself,”
Death: My job is tough! You think it’s fun making sure everything has to die? Every cat, every fly, every mole, every baby, every lizard, every rock star, I killed them all. I have to see them all die and I will always have to see them die. I can never stop. It’s not cool to be me. I work all the time because things die all the time. I know this statement is ironic but I have no life. All I do is work! You know when I’ll get my first ever day off? When the universe ends and you know what? I’m the one who has to kill the universe. Then I will be all alone nothing else to kill, but nothing to talk to no one to be with. Ever meet people who say “what is the point of life? We are just going to die anyways.” Well there ain’t any point in death either.
Ted: I’m sorry
Death: Yeah
Ted: So want to keep playing?
Death: Yeah
(They play for about ten seconds. The actors can improvise a few lines about cards if they want)
Ted: Can I ask you something?
Death: What?
Ted: Why don’t you quit?
Death: Quit what?
Ted: Being death. Just stop killing people
Death: If I stop killing people then there will be no point to having an entity of death. My existence is tied to things dying. If people stop dying then I stop existing. I may hate my existence, but I don’t want it to end.
Ted: I’m sorry. (Beat)
I’m not really mad at you for taking my father. I didn’t like him that much anyway.
Death: I didn’t like him ether. I know I made him sound like I liked him, but I was just trying to get you upset. If you want to make a guy upset tell him he doesn't live up to his father. If You want to make a girl upset tell her she is just like her mother.
(ted laughs)
Ted: My dad forced me to be a standup comedian.
Death: That’s weird.
To be continued
Friday, January 29, 2010
On My Way Back Home
On my way back home
Prisoner-about twenty four
Guard-mid fifties with a cop mustache
(The back of the stage is a wire fence with barbed wire on the top. People are waiting on the outside of the wire. The GUARD lets the PRISONER along with several other people fresh out of jail through a gate in the middle of the fence. All the people let out of prison meet their friends and family who were waiting for them except for prisoner. They are all very happy to see each other there are hugs and high fives exchanged. The GUARD sees that the prisoner has no one and comes over to talk to him.)
Guard: There is a bus that drops by every half hour.
Prisoner: Thanks
(PRISONER sits down against the gate and talks to the guard who is on the other side.)
Guard: So how does it feel to be free you little shit?
Prisoner: Well I’ve gone from being in a big house full of people who hate me, to a big world full of people who hate me.
(Guard laughs)
Guard: So you got any family?
Prisoner: They all hate me because I got arrested for bringing drugs over the border.
Guard: Well I can’t blame them. Friends?
Prisoner: They all hate me because it was their weed.
Guard laughs again, bigger this time. So where are you going to go?
Prisoner: I don’t know. I have enough money for a hotel. Stay there for a couple days. Look for a job.
I’ll try to get in touch with my parents. They like to hold grudges though.
Guard: Tell me about it. My parents caught me banging this Amish chick when I was seventeen. They threw me out of the house haven’t seen then since.
Prisoner: That’s a bit harsh.
Guard: Yeah well, I was Amish too.
Prisoner: Ha That sucks
Guard: I ended up marrying her.
Prisoner: Really
Guard: No. But I might as well have. I seem to be attracted to super religious women who drive me crazy. Never lets me do anything.
Prisoner: I seem to be attracted to women who convince me to pile a van up full on pot and drive it across state lines.
(Off stage there is a sound of an engine.)
Guard: There is your bus
Prisoner: yeah Well it was nice talking to you.
Guard: It was
(Prisoner starts to walk away)
Guard: wait
(he takes out a piece of paper and writes something on it)
This is my address stop by around eight and we’ll feed you dinner.
Prisoner: Are you sure you want to have dinner with a guy who just got out of jail.
Guard: Yeah it’ll drive the wife crazy
Prisoner-about twenty four
Guard-mid fifties with a cop mustache
(The back of the stage is a wire fence with barbed wire on the top. People are waiting on the outside of the wire. The GUARD lets the PRISONER along with several other people fresh out of jail through a gate in the middle of the fence. All the people let out of prison meet their friends and family who were waiting for them except for prisoner. They are all very happy to see each other there are hugs and high fives exchanged. The GUARD sees that the prisoner has no one and comes over to talk to him.)
Guard: There is a bus that drops by every half hour.
Prisoner: Thanks
(PRISONER sits down against the gate and talks to the guard who is on the other side.)
Guard: So how does it feel to be free you little shit?
Prisoner: Well I’ve gone from being in a big house full of people who hate me, to a big world full of people who hate me.
(Guard laughs)
Guard: So you got any family?
Prisoner: They all hate me because I got arrested for bringing drugs over the border.
Guard: Well I can’t blame them. Friends?
Prisoner: They all hate me because it was their weed.
Guard laughs again, bigger this time. So where are you going to go?
Prisoner: I don’t know. I have enough money for a hotel. Stay there for a couple days. Look for a job.
I’ll try to get in touch with my parents. They like to hold grudges though.
Guard: Tell me about it. My parents caught me banging this Amish chick when I was seventeen. They threw me out of the house haven’t seen then since.
Prisoner: That’s a bit harsh.
Guard: Yeah well, I was Amish too.
Prisoner: Ha That sucks
Guard: I ended up marrying her.
Prisoner: Really
Guard: No. But I might as well have. I seem to be attracted to super religious women who drive me crazy. Never lets me do anything.
Prisoner: I seem to be attracted to women who convince me to pile a van up full on pot and drive it across state lines.
(Off stage there is a sound of an engine.)
Guard: There is your bus
Prisoner: yeah Well it was nice talking to you.
Guard: It was
(Prisoner starts to walk away)
Guard: wait
(he takes out a piece of paper and writes something on it)
This is my address stop by around eight and we’ll feed you dinner.
Prisoner: Are you sure you want to have dinner with a guy who just got out of jail.
Guard: Yeah it’ll drive the wife crazy
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Root of the Matter
Root of The Problem.
A play for puppets
(Two Trees are sitting in a park setting. One is a cherry tree. The other is a bigger Oak.)
Cherry: Don’t you just love the springtime?
Oak: Meh
Cherry: Don’t like it?
Oak: I’ve seen a good two hundred springs in my life. They get pretty dull after a while.
Cherry: What is your favorite season?
(Beat)
Cherry: Well?
Oak: I don’t have a favorite.
Cherry: Ok that’s fine. It's just we never talk and as long as we have been planted together, we should be friends.
Oak: OK we are friends. Now leave me alone.
Cherry: Wanna play an improv game?
Oak: no
Cherry: What do you want to do?
Oak: just sit here mind my own business.
Cherry: That’s lame. You should be more fun.
Oak: Being fun never did anyone any good.
(Beat)
Cherry: Wanna play I Spy? I Spy with my little I something brown and green with branches.
Oak: You spy me, and shut up.
(Two workers enter.)
Worker one: One of these trees need to go.
Worker two: (pointing at Cherry) People like looking at that one when it blooms. The other is sort of useless, it doesn’t give any shade, and the branches are too high for kids to play on.
(The two workers exit. The trees don’t say anything for a few seconds )
Cherry: Wanna play twenty questions?
Oak: NO!
A play for puppets
(Two Trees are sitting in a park setting. One is a cherry tree. The other is a bigger Oak.)
Cherry: Don’t you just love the springtime?
Oak: Meh
Cherry: Don’t like it?
Oak: I’ve seen a good two hundred springs in my life. They get pretty dull after a while.
Cherry: What is your favorite season?
(Beat)
Cherry: Well?
Oak: I don’t have a favorite.
Cherry: Ok that’s fine. It's just we never talk and as long as we have been planted together, we should be friends.
Oak: OK we are friends. Now leave me alone.
Cherry: Wanna play an improv game?
Oak: no
Cherry: What do you want to do?
Oak: just sit here mind my own business.
Cherry: That’s lame. You should be more fun.
Oak: Being fun never did anyone any good.
(Beat)
Cherry: Wanna play I Spy? I Spy with my little I something brown and green with branches.
Oak: You spy me, and shut up.
(Two workers enter.)
Worker one: One of these trees need to go.
Worker two: (pointing at Cherry) People like looking at that one when it blooms. The other is sort of useless, it doesn’t give any shade, and the branches are too high for kids to play on.
(The two workers exit. The trees don’t say anything for a few seconds )
Cherry: Wanna play twenty questions?
Oak: NO!
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