RIVA

Never mind.  Here, You go first.

(He moves a piece)

ANGUS

I'll have you know...

(She moves a piece)

...that I'm pretty good at chess.

(He moves a piece.)

RIVA

(She moves a piece)

Checkmate.

ANGUS

Excuse me?

RIVA

I wish you'd stop saying "excuse me" all the time.  It gives the false impression that you have personal hygiene problems or something.

ANGUS

How did you do that?

RIVA

Fool's Mate.  Checkmate in two moves.  Shall we play again?

ANGUS

No.  Let's play a different game.

RIVA

Okay.  Have you ever been in love?

ANGUS

What game is this?

RIVA

Oh, no.  I was just asking.  I thought we might have a game and a conversation. So have you?

ANGUS

What do you mean?

RIVA

I'd think the question was self-explanatory. 

ANGUS

Well, it's not like you're asking me something simple-like 'do you have a mauve platypus sitting on your head?'  That's something I could easily answer. ‘No.’

RIVA

Could you hand me the chalk?

ANGUS

See-I know what you mean when you say chalk.  But love is subject to all kinds of interpretation.

RIVA

Angus-

ANGUS

I mean, there's platonic love, fraternal love, infatuation...

RIVA

Ang-gus.

ANGUS

...familial love, sexual obsession, even-

RIVA

-ANGUS!

ANGUS

What?

RIVA

The

chalk.

ANGUS

Oh. sorry.  Anyway, love is as complex as life itself.  Countless philosophers have tackled the subject without success.  Buber, Plato-of course...

RIVA

Life ...is a watermelon.

ANGUS

What?

RIVA

(She gets up, then falls onto box.)

Whoa!

ANGUS

What?  Are you all right?

RIVA

Headrush.

ANGUS

Oh. 

RIVA

“Life is...” the first thing that comes to mind.  That's how your philosophers do things-they say whatever comes to mind and then try to fit the world into that idea.

ANGUS

Okay...then why is life like a watermelon?

RIVA

Because...the flavor is juicier near the middle, but you have to spit out more seeds to eat it.  Seeds are...mistakes, and experience. 

(Getting into it) 

If you spit out a seed in the right place, it can grow into a whole plant of watermelons, and expand your life!  Lots of little baby watermelons, sprouting into new ideas-

ANGUS

All right, all right! You sound like Confucius on acid. Real philosophers don’t require such...abstract analogies.

RI

VA

They're just using bigger words.  Don't trust the highfalutin', I always say.  There.  Now we need a marker to throw.

ANGUS

Here, try the knight.

RIVA

If they're knights, why are they always in the shape of horses?

ANGUS

They're knight-mares.

RIVA

Very funny. 

(They begin to play hopscotch.)

ANGUS

Maybe this is.

RIVA

My nightmares are usually a little more unusual.

ANGUS

Yeah, here I am playing hopscotch in literally, the middle of nowhere, along with Riva the chess grandmaster who has a penchant for human target practice and philosophical plagiarism.  Oh, yes, I'm completely sane. 

RIVA

So this is insanity.

ANGUS

I do have this feeling that I'm being watched.

RIVA

It’s your turn.

  Stuff like this, it always turns out to be some sort of dream sequence.  You know-"Oh, I can't believe it!  It was all  just a dream!"  And you'll turn out to be, like, my uncle in real life.

ANGUS

What a pleasant thought.

RIVA

So, if that's the case, then all we have to do to get out of here is to wake up.

ANGUS

How do you suggest we do that?

RIVA

Whenever I have this falling sensation, like I dream that I'm falling off a ledge, I always wake up.

ANGUS

Myoclonic jerk.

RIVA

What did you call me?

ANGUS

No, it's when your brain stops analyzing the input from your eyes as you sleep.  It's called a myoclonic jerk.  It gives you that falling sensation.

RIVA

Well, for me, it's a dream that does it.  So all we have to do is replicate it here.

(She begins stacking boxes.)

ANGUS

X

What are you doing?

RIVA

Stacking these boxes.

ANGUS

What for?

RIVA

So I can give myself a falling sensation.

ANGUS

What?  Do you plan on a swan dive off the top? Hope that you wake up before you go splat?

RIVA

Why not?

ANGUS

Why not?

RIVA

Why not?

ANGUS

You're serious.

RIVA

Yes. Why shouldn't I?

ANGUS

Why don’t you just click your heels together?

RIVA

What would that accomplish?

ANGUS

Never mind.

RIVA

ANGUS

Actually, I was just thinking...

RIVA

Is that a simple declaration, or do you have a conclusion of some sort?

ANGUS

Maybe. Did you ever hear of the Chinese philosopher who had a dream that he was a butterfly?

RIVA

No.

ANGUS

When he woke up, he had a problem- he could never be sure afterwards whether or not he was actually a butterfly dreaming it was a Chinese philosopher.

RIVA

Sounds like that's not his only problem...Oh!

you mean, if we go to sleep in a dream...

ANGUS

Maybe we wake up in real life.

RIVA

All right!  Let's give it a try. 

(She aligns boxes in the shape of a bed, and lies down.  Angus just looks at her.)  What?  Come on, it's naptime.

ANGUS

I don't know, it's kind of a silly idea.

RIVA

Oh, come on!  As if you have something better to do.

ANGUS

Hey-how come you get to sleep on those?

RIVA

Squatter's rights.

ANGUS

You can't just claim the boxes.  You can't do that.

RIVA:

Look, these boxes are just as hard as the floor.  On top of that, they have significantly less surface area.  Therefore, you will be happier sleeping on the ground.

ANGUS

If the floor's so wonderful, why are you still on the boxes?

RIVA

I need definition.

ANGUS

What?

RIVA

A defined sleeping area.  Or else I get a mild attack of agoraphobia.

ANGUS

-Fear of heights?

RIVA

Is that what that is?  I can never remember if it's Agoraphobia or Agrophobia.  Well, no, whatever it is that's a fear of open spaces and crowds.

ANGUS

You realize, that if this works, only one of us is going to wake up.

RIVA

Not necessarily.  Anything can happen.

ANGUS

I think it has. Well, goodnight. 

RIVA

Goodnight.

ANGUS

(Pause.  Shuffle.  Pause. Shuffle.  Pause. Waits until someone in the audience makes a distinct noise-i.e. a cough or a shuffle.) 

Did you hear that?

RIVA

Hear what?

ANGUS

That noise.

RIVA

No, I didn't.

ANGUS

Never mind.

RIVA

Okay.  Goodnight.

ANGUS

(Pause.) 

Oh, no.  You've got to be kidding me.

RIVA

What is it this time?

ANGUS

I have a canker sore.

RIVA

I'm really sorry.

ANGUS

It hurts!

RIVA

It won't kill you.

ANGUS

Yes, but it's on the tip of my tongue!

RIVA

Maybe if you stopped talking, it wouldn't hurt so much.

ANGUS

Your sympathy is overwhelming. 

(Riva closes her eyes.  Angus sits for a moment, touching his tongue.  He stops. Looks at Riva.  Watches her for a moment, until the audience makes another sound.  He gets up, begins stalking about slowly, listening

for something.)

RIVA

Angus, what are you doing?

ANGUS

Shh!

(He is looking intently, close to audience.)

I heard a noise.

RIVA

What did it sound like?

ANGUS

...A mosquito.

RIVA

What? A what?

ANGUS

A mosquito.  I could have sworn I heard one.  But I might have imagined it.

RIVA

A mosquito?  For crying out loud!

ANGUS

What?  There might have been one!  Maybe he's just hiding out.

RIVA

WHO CARES?!!?  It's a  mosquito!

ANGUS

Hey-you want him buzzing in your ear?

RIVA

You're out here making me think it's bigfoot or something large and hairy like that and all it is is a stupid mosquito?

ANGUS

Look, I can't sleep with them around.

RIVA

What's it going to do, rip off your arm?

ANGUS

You want mosquito bites all over you, go ahead!  Let him bite you!  You'll be scratchin'  'till you scab over, but don't come crying to me!

RIVA

...You're scared of it!

ANGUS

Shut up.

RIVA

You are!  You, over 150 pounds of brawny masculinity, are scared of being stung by a quarter

-ounce mosquito!

ANGUS

So what?  Is that any less stupid than being scared of open spaces?  When was the last time a big expanse of nothingness came and bit you on your ass?  I just happen to have a phobia of mosquitoes. Imagine, if you will:  A small female mosquito, lets call her Anopheles Gambiae.  She's from a loving family, and had a pleasant childhood growing up as a larva in the swamps of home.  She's a beautiful specimen- clubbed palps; round, firm scutellum.  She's recently  fallen prey to the come-hither look of a male mosquito-he had suchplumose antennae-and allowed herself to be seduced and, summarily, impregnated.  Now she needs a good meal before laying her several hundred eggs in a nearby puddle.  She lands delicately on you while we sleep, and gently slides her proboscis into your skin, injecting a small poison into you to keep the blood from clotting so the cute little vampire can feast uninterrupted.  Of course the downside to this reverse hypodermic procedure is that since Anopheles doesn't wash up before dinner, she may give you a little gift-like yellow fever, pseudoplague, hepatitis, encephalitis, dengue, or filariasis-or the unpleasant wight may be passing on Plasmodium falciparum, a friendly little unicellular protozoan more commonly referred to as MALARIA.  I freely admit to having a specialized case of entymophobia!  They drove me nuts when I was a kid. I'd nearly kill myself at night by spraying half a bottle of bugspray in my room and then pulling the covers up over my head.  Even if they weren't there, I'd hear them, and they'd drive me nuts. Nnnnnnnnnnnn.  Nnnnnnnn.  Not that I need an excuse for going batty around here- EAT YOUR HEART OUT, JEAN-PAUL SARTRE! None of this makes sense, none of- Where am I?!?  Why am I here?!?  OW!

RIVA

What? What is it?

ANGUS

DAMN CANKER SORE!

(Long pause.  ANGUS walks to edge of light, peers out into darkness.)

A selection from middle of the production draft: