Newest warrior Ken got theme honors this week and selected gatherings. I’ve been only moderately happy with my entries of late, so I reached back several months to a sketch I’m still quite proud of for inspiration. This entry would benefit greatly from a second draft and a little polish, but I’m posting this early on Thursday morning before going offline for the weekend. I hope y’all appreciate it a bit as it stands.
I believe it is my turn to select the theme again, so I’m going to go with…ooh, this is a nasty one…funerals.
If you want to get in on the fun, email a link to your sketch – or its full text if you’ve got no web home – by midnight, next Friday to sketchwar at dreamloom.com
The Reunion
(ROB, late 20s and weary, wears a wrinkled dress shirt. He sits at a table in a gaily decorated high school gym. He is joined by RICH and SCOTT, also late 20s, equally rumpled.)
RICH
Cathy looks good. You should go talk to her.
ROB
I don’t know, it’s weird. Bill’s watching.
SCOTT
Dude, it’s Cathy. You mooned about her all through high school–
RICH
–since sixth grade.
SCOTT
Seriously? Then too?
RICH
Yeah. It was hilarious. He was what, five foot even, and she was as tall as she is today, but he thought he had a shot.
ROB
Thanks. I just…it’s different now.
RICH
Yeah. Now you have a shot. Come on.
(ROB gets up and shuffles to CATHY’s table. She’s a classic blond beauty, 10 years lovelier than when she was homecoming queen.)
ROB
Hey, Cath.
CATHY
Hey, Rob. I was wondering when you’d finally come say hi.
ROB
I just…
(Freeze. DUDE-ROB, late teens and dressed like Rob but rattier, enters and stands next to Rob.)
DUDE-ROB
Aw, man she looks good! Tell her you were busy talking to your Lamborghini mechanic. Chicks dig hot cars.
ROB
No, I think I’ve got this, thanks.
(Unfreeze.)
ROB (CONT’D)
I just don’t know what to say. Bill’s here with you, right?
CATHY
Rob, things are complicated with me and Bill.
(BILL walks up. He’s a classic athlete, 10 years balder and seedier than when he was a star, but still rocking his letterman’s jacket. He sits opposite Cathy.)
BILL
Hey, Rob.
ROB
Uh, hi Bill.
BILL
You two keep talking. Don’t mind me.
DUDE-ROB
Man, you can totally kick his ass now! Remember that atomic wedgie he gave you on the field trip to Colonial Williamsburg? Now’s your chance! Get him back.
(Freeze. WISE-ROB, dressed like Rob but nattier, silver at the temples and horn-rimmed glasses, stands next to Dude-Rob.)
WISE-ROB
Violence never solved anything. Turn the other cheek.
DUDE-ROB
Pussy!
ROB
I’m not going to fight him.
(JOCK-BILL enters. He’s a behemoth in his letterman’s jacket. Built like a lineman with the skills of a QB.)
JOCK-BILL
Of course he’s not going to fight. He’s always been a pussy.
(Dude-Rob moves behind Rob to shield himself.)
WISE-ROB
William, you scare no one. (Indicates Bill) Look at you. You’re probably wrestling with your inner demons as we speak, fighting to suppress your latent tendencies.
JOCK-BILL
What the hell’s that mean, four-eyes.
(OLD-BILL flounces in. He’s in his 50s, happy, and wearing a boa. Yes. I went there.)
OLD-BILL
Don’t be rude! (Flirty to Wise-Rob) Hi, Rob!
WISE-ROB
(Uncomfortable) Uh, hello Bill.
(Everyone unfreezes.)
CATHY
Bill and I are separated. He wouldn’t come tonight by himself.
ROB
Wow. I…are you guys okay?
BILL
Yeah. I’m just really confused lately.
DUDE-ROB
Goddamn right you’re confused, fairy!
WISE-ROB
Rob! Grow up! (To Old-Bill) I’m sorry.
OLD-BILL
It’s alright. It doesn’t bother me anymore.
JOCK-BILL
I should kick your ass, old man!
OLD-BILL
As if! Bring it on, junior!
(Jock-Bill tackles Old-Bill and they thrash about on the floor. Bill watches dispassionately. Dude-Rob and Wise-Rob pretend to look away.)
ROB
I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you figure things out. You were always such a cute couple.
BILL
I bet you hated me, huh?
CATHY
He didn’t hate you, Billy.
BILL
It’s okay. I’d have hated me. I do hate me.
(Old-Bill gets up and brushes off. Jock-Bill is down for the count.)
BILL (CONT’D)
But I’m getting better now.
(Bill gets up to leave.)
BILL (CONT’D)
I’m going to stay at my parents’ tonight, okay? The house is yours.
(Bill leans over to give Cathy a chaste peck on the cheek and leaves, OLD-BILL in tow.)
DUDE-ROB
Dude, she’s yours. Tap that fine ass!
WISE-ROB
“Tap that?” Are you twelve? She’s a woman, not a keg at one of your salacious parties. Rob, treat her with the respect and affection you’ve always had for her. Ah yes, of course! The poem!
ROB
Poem? Oh, that. I don’t remember it.
DUDE-ROB
I do:
(snickering)
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
I know where I’d spend that 30000!
WISE-ROB
Miscreant! I didn’t mean that. I meant:
(solemn)
But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
DUDE-ROB
Just ’cause you’re about to kick the bucket don’t mean he is.
ROB
Guys! I’ll handle this.
(To Cathy)
You want to dance?
BLACKOUT