A Play in Three Acts
By Eric D. Snider
Dramatis Personae:
ERIC, a local man
JOSH, Eric’s research assistant/consultant
JJANA WITH TWO J’S, Eric and Josh’s friend who spells her name wrong on purpose
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF PAINT, the waitress
FUTILITY AND NEGLECT, non-speaking roles, present for symbolic purposes
ACT I
(Enter ERIC, JOSH and JJANA WITH TWO J’S, at a table at Village Inn. Enter also SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF AN INFLAMMATION. Enter also FUTILITY AND NEGLECT)
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF A MOSQUITO BITE: (surly) What would you like?
ERIC: An Oreo shake. (aside) This is what I always get when I go to Village Inn. I normally patronize the restaurant in Provo’s East Bay region, but this night I have chosen the one in Orem instead. Surely, however, the food available is the same in either establishment, as they are both Village Inn. Though they are separate in location, they are one in purpose and menu options, much like the Trinity.
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF A FIRE ENGINE THAT’S ON FIRE: (sneering) We don’t have shakes on the late-night menu.
ERIC: (aghast) But I always get a shake, even late at night, at the other Village Inn! I also question your calling 10:45 p.m. “late-night.”
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF A SUN-BURNED IRISHMAN: (spitting fire) We don’t do them here.
ERIC: (continuing his futile protest) And when I worked at Denny’s, that’s pretty much all people wanted after 10 p.m., was shakes.
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF CLOTTED BLOOD: (as venomous serpents emerge from her eye sockets) You worked at Denny’s? Eww.
(End Act I)
* * *
ACT II
(Same. One second later.)
ERIC: I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger, then.
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF A FIRE ANT: (while poisoning another person’s appetizer) And what would you like to drink?
ERIC: (still bitter) A shake.
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF THE GAPING MAW OF HELL ITSELF: (while maiming a nearby child) We don’t have shakes.
ERIC: (still bitter) I know.
JOSH: You could totally write a column about this.
JJANA WITH TWO J’S: Can I be in your column?
ERIC: No.
(Exit JJANA WITH TWO J’S. End Act II.)
* * *
ACT III
(Same. Thirty minutes later.)
JOSH: Can I have a piece of cherry pie?
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF CHERRY PIE: (while committing regicide) I’m not sure if we have any….
ERIC: (still bitter) It’s in the same box as the shakes.
SURLY WAITRESS WITH UNNATURALLY RED HAIR THE COLOR OF THE ROSE PETALS IN “AMERICAN BEAUTY”: (destroys American infrastructure; unleashes deadly viral infection; ends all life as we know it)
JOSH: You could totally write a column about this.
ERIC: (still bitter) No, I couldn’t.
(Exeunt all. End of the play.)