SYNOPSIS: The ingenius and half-crazy writer Erna Sandorf lives alone in her apartment in New York City and spends the whole day writing her cheap novels. The apartment is designed with austerity. Though she praises her expensive settee, fireplace and carpet, the audience does not see anything. Erna loves her work, she is totally possessed by it and almost never goes out. The only distraction are her three friends – Melanie, Cathy and Susanne, who occasionally come to visit her. Her life and profession, naturally, include a literary agent, Dave, and a psychoanalytic therapist, Graham. In such a creative way of life, it is no wonder that Irma often loses the concept of what is reality and what is a dream or a hallucination. She often asks her friends whether they are real, or whether they are characters from her novels.
The play features characters and events with overturned values and meanings. Erna is pleased to see her books as low literature. She is happy and takes it as a compliment. It is the same with critical letters she receives from her readers. She finds real praise of her work boring. The other characters also behave absurdly.
These principles are the foundation of the comedy and grotesqueness of the play. In the penultimate scene, it is Erna’s birthday. All her friends and acquaintances get together. The scene is full of absurd comedy and bizarreness.
The last scene offers three conclusions. Firstly, it is Erna’s funeral, where everyone is present and even Erna appears for a while as a phantom. This is followed by a real situation, when Erna writes on the typewriter and describes her own funeral, and the final conclusion comes when the psychiatrist arrives and forces Erna to take medicine.
Reality is dismissed. This play is not limited by any logic. The only rule to follow is the more crazy and absurd, the better.
NUMBER OF PAGES: 22
CAST: 4 women, 2 men
GENRE: comedy
CHARACTERS:
ERNA SANDORF – writer
MELANIE – first friend
CATHY – second friend
SUSANNE – third friend
DAVE – literary agent
GRAHAM – psychoanalytic therapist
SAMPLE TEXT
The story is set in New York City.
SCENE 1
(Almost an empty stage: a table, a few chairs a clothes-stand, etc. In the front left, there is a stylish writing table and a chair. There is a typewriter on the table and a pile of empty sheets of paper next to it. The litter basket is full of crumpled sheets of paper. Erna enters the stage.)
ERNA: Good evening. Let me introduce myself: I am Erna Sandorf. Some of you, and especially the readers of my books, may have already recognized me. And for the rest of you: yes, I am an author,a famous and best-selling author. Buy my books and read them and you will see for yourselves. My novels are worth every single penny you spend. I, myself, can‘t stop reading them over and over again. They’re really good. Take for example “Spear of Love” … It took me three months to write, that one. Truly exceptional…
So, this is my lovely apartment. I earn enough, so I can afford a bit of luxury, right? And this is my amazing sofa, my wonderful fireplace and my lovely carpet. You say you can‘t see anything? Never mind. You do have an imagination, don’t you? Well, turn it on, tune it nicely, yes, like this, a little bit more – well done …
And here we are, in my cozy little apartment, what do you think? There is a living room, a bedroom, a dining room and a study, all in one. My wonderful books, they are all written here, they are born behind that desk in what I call a sometimes very painstaking process. But writing is such a fulfilling activity. Art, and literature above all, gives our lives meaning, teaches us how to fly and grinds us like we were the most precious diamond, right? You don‘t have to agree with me, but life, the real life outside your windows will convince you. Because that’s the very secret hidden inside my novels. Well, enough for starters, the story is about to begin and you are all welcome, open the doors, come in …
(A doorbell.)
Ah, did you hear that? Someone’s here. Melanie, my best friend, I suppose.
(She goes to the door.)
SCENE 2
ERNA: Oh, Melanie, darling, nice to see you!
MELANIE: Hi, Erna, honey. How do you like my new dress?
ERNA: Oh, Melanie, it’s stunning.
MELANIE: Really?
ERNA: Yes, sure, it’s beautiful… Are you disappointed, or what?
MELANIE: I don’t know. I thought you wouldn’t like it.
ERNA: Well, let me see, it’s not as perfect as it was at first sight.
MELANIE: Seriously?
ERNA: Melanie, it’s awful…
MELANIE: You mean it?
ERNA: Quite a fail…
MELANIE: Oh, Erna!
ERNA: I don’t get it, how you can wear something as horrible as that.
MELANIE: Oh, Erna, thank you so much for your opinion, you’ve made my day. May I sit down?
ERNA: Sure, over there, on that sofa.
MELANIE: Wonderful! What a stylish sofa you have here. Is it an import?
ERNA: Of course, China. You like?
MELANIE: It’s absolutely amazing.
ERNA: Is it?
MELANIE: Yeah, not just practical, but also classy and it goes well with the rest of your furniture.
ERNA: Thanks, dear… (Pause.) So, come on. You sounded so excited when we were talking on the phone… (Pause.)
MELANIE: Erna, dear, a man has entered my life.
ERNA: Oh, Melanie, dear, that’s fantastic… Now dish, what does he look like? Is he handsome, or ugly? By the way, an ugly one would suit you better, you’d be quite a match. But now you.
MELANIE: You charmer! – Let’s say he‘s – a man.
ERNA: Really? And?
MELANIE: Well, he’s tall, black…
ERNA: Wait, you mean a black man?
MELANIE: Why would he be a black man?
ERNA: You said – tall, black…
MELANIE: Hair, his hair is black.
ERNA: Ah, right, hair, what else?
MELANIE: Where did I stop?
ERNA: He’s tall and black.
MELANIE: Ah, yes. So he is tall and black…
ERNA: You already said that.
MELANIE: And he has deep eyes – he drives me nuts…
ERNA: Do you love him?
MELANIE: Who? (A long pause. Erna starts walking around.)
ERNA: Dear Melanie, please, tell me something. Are you real, authentic, or one of the fictional characters from my new novel?
MELANIE: Why do you ask? Dear Erna – I am Melanie, your best friend, we’ve known each other since we were kids.
ERNA: Fine, very well then, I’m so confused.
MELANIE: Are you all right? Shall I call the doctor? Drink some water and you’ll be fine, here, take it.
ERNA: Thanks, darling. You know, don’t take it wrong but it’s as if I‘ve started losing control over my life recently.
MELANIE: You have to take a break. You work so hard, harder than you should. Why don’t we go to movies together?
ERNA: To watch that junk?
MELANIE: Yes, the same as people read in your books, darling.
ERNA: Oh, honey, you flatter me. I’m so happy to have you. Fine then, let’s go to the movies!
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 3
(Sleepy Erna in bathrobe. Walks around the apartment, yawns and scratches her back. Then she turns on the stereo.)
ERNA: Hmm…
VOICE: I didn’t hear you – good morning, Erna.
ERNA: Good morning – kiss my ass.
VOICE: Did you sleep well?
ERNA: (Disgusted.) Excellent.
VOICE: Look at the sulky face of yours. We want a smile. (Erna smiles.) Nice. So once again, did you sleep well, my lovely Erna?
ERNA: Wonderful. I had a toothache all night.
VOICE: And what are you plans for today?
ERNA: Writing.
VOICE: And how many pages will you write?
ERNA: Four.
VOICE: That’s not many, almost nothing.
ERNA: Eight.
VOICE: Well, better, but still not enough.
ERNA: Nineteen.
VOICE: Great. But first – a workout.
ERNA: Do I have to?
VOICE: Stretch your arms in front of you, sideways (Erna exercises reluctantly.) and down. Once more: in front, sideways, down…
ERNA: Enough.
VOICE: And knee bend, up, knee bend, up, knee bend…
(Erna turns off stereo, takes out a CD and puts in another CD. Turns it on.)
WOMAN’S VOICE: You’re an exceptional woman and you know it, my dear. Your talent, your special qualities.. The richness of your inner world. Go, grasp your life firmly into your hands and change it, change it into a treasure of diamonds. You can do it, you can handle it all, just leave your worries behind, because all you need is your courage. I love you, all the people love you, they all do… and you know why? Because you’re exceptional. A woman born once in a hundred years. And now you can sit down, make yourself comfortable, put a sheet of paper into your typewriter and press the first key. Don’t hesitate, you can do it, well done, you are exceptional, exceptional, exceptional, exceptional…
(A doorbell rings. Erna turns off the audio and goes to the door.)
SCENE 4
ERNA: Oh, Dave, welcome and come in. I’m so happy you’re here…
But what’s going on? You look strange.
(Dave silent, makes faces and moves awkwardly into the room.)
Dave, what’s happening to you? Are you all right? Dave? (Pause.) For goodness’ sake ! (Shocked.) You’re not…?! But you look like him, Dave, my literary agent. The same suit, the same trousers, the same idiotic face. Sit down, Dave, or whatever your name is, here on the sofa. I’m totally confused. What a mess. (She thinks hard.) You are Dave, aren‘t you?
(Dave still silent, smile on his face. Erna sits down behind the typewriter. Writes.)
Are – you – Dave? (Dave gives a significant nod.) How are you, Dave? (Writes.) I – am – fine – and – you?
DAVE: I am fine and you?
ERNA: Don’t you want to tell me anything? (Thinks and writes.)
Er – na – I – lo – ve – you.
DAVE: Erna, I love you.
ERNA: Ah, completely wrong, where is the passion and emotion?
(Swiftly takes a sheet out of the typewriter. Dave falls on the floor. Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 5
(Pause. Erna and Cathy are drinking tea. Noisy sips.)
ERNA: Oh dear Cathy.
CATHY: Oh dear Erna. (Pause.)
ERNA: Oh dear Cathy.
CATHY: Oh dear Erna. (Pause.)
ERNA: Oh dear Cathy.
CATHY: Oh dear Erna. (Pause.)
CATHY: This tea is lovely.
ERNA: Glad you like it. (Pause.)
CATHY: You know what, I’ve bought a new blouse.
ERNA: Really? A new one?
CATHY: Yes, brand new.
ERNA: And do you like it?
CATHY: Kind of yes, I like it. It’s nice.
ERNA: Hm. (Pause.) And where did you buy it?
CATHY: In that boutique, you know.
ERNA: Hm. (Pause.) So, you like it?
CATHY: Yes, I do, it’s perfect, I really like this one.
ERNA: Hm. And can you describe it to me?
CATHY: You know, it’s kind of this long and here it’s like this and like that, you know.
ERNA: Hm. Must be really nice.
CATHY: Yes, it is, it’s very pretty. (Pause.)
ERNA: Good for you, to have such a pretty blouse.
CATHY: You’re right, I’m glad I bought it. (Pause.) Well, better go, otherwise my parents will give me a hard time. See you then.
ERNA: See you. Cathy, wait.
CATHY: Yeah?
ERNA: Oh, honey, I’m sorry, but I completely forgot your name day is today. And I don’t have a present for you. What a shame. What am I supposed to do now? I have an idea. You know what, take one of my books, is that ok?
CATHY: But I haven’t read a book in my entire life.
ERNA: You haven’t? Never mind. The title is “Night Rider“. And it’s really a good one. Romantic adventures. As are all my books, of course. You’ll certainly love it. It costs 45 dollars in a bookstore. And if, for some reason, you won’t read it, you can put it under your cabinet to balance it, right?
CATHY: Ok then, you are so sweet, bye.
ERNA: Bye. Cathy?
KATY: Mhm?
ERNA: May I ask you something?
KATY: Yeah.
ERNA: Well, hm, are you real, authentic, or are you one of my fictional characters?
KATY: Pardon?
(Lights off. Silence.)
SCENE 6
(A doorbell. Erna goes to the door.)
ERNA: Welcome, Dave. How’s life?
DAVE: Thank you, everything in order, Erna. And you?
ERNA: Oh, thanks, I feel so fresh.
DAVE: Have you been writing?
ERNA: Yes, my darling. I have.
DAVE: Don’t get mad at me, but as your agent…
ERNA: That’s fine, Dave, no worries… Dave, are you ill?
Why are you looking at…?
DAVE: I love you, Erna, I’ve read your last book.
ERNA: Night Rider?
DAVE: Yes, Night Rider. – Erna, it’s all about us, about you and me! (He tries to hug her.)
ERNA: Dear Dave, please do not overreact, sit down, calm down and sit down!
DAVE: My apologies, Erna. (Pause.)
ERNA: First, I want to ask you a question: are you Dave or Dave?
DAVE: I beg your pardon?
ERNA: Everything‘s fine, it all just seems like a fantasy to me lately. I was thinking whether you weren’t a fictional hero, the one from the book I’ve been working on. No, don’t laugh, you look completely alike.
DAVE: Erna.
ERNA: No, no, Dave, sorry Dave, I sometimes have these phases, you see, I’m going nuts or something. Sometimes it comes and then it’s gone…
(Dave goes to the front, Erna sits in the back having a drink.)
DAVE: My name is David, or Dave, if you like. I am an ordinary guy from the South Bronx. Among other things, I’m a literary agent and, of course, I’m quite successful. I love making a buck, as everybody does. I love making dough. Ah… Like a leech sucking blood. And Erna, she is the very object of my interests. I’m one big lucky bastard to run across this biddy. But don’t tell her ‘cause she can get bossy or find a replacement. She’s a lousy writer… But people buy her books and that’s all that matters. (Erna approaches him.)
Oh, darling, Erna, how are you?
ERNA: I heard you say leech – what is it?
DAVE: It’s a little animal that sucks blood, Erna.
ERNA: Leech, interesting, I’ll use it in one of my next novels.
DAVE: Yes, it’s appealing, my dear, and you know what the idea is?
ERNA: No, I don’t. What is the idea?
DAVE: The idea is that I’m a leech, sucking your money until the very last cent.
ERNA: Eek, David, you scare me.
DAVE: Scare, yes, I do, are you afraid? That’s good.
ERNA: Dave!
DAVE: Erna?
ERNA: Dave!
DAVE: Erna, it was a joke. I have to inspire you because your last novels were idle. (Pause.)
ERNA: Oh, David, you freak me out. And what do you mean by – idle?
DAVE: Not enough tension, Erna, not enough tension. It needs more spice. Spice it up, darling, you know what I mean.
ERNA: Dave, what you are talking about? I’m a romantic novelist.
DAVE: Erna, honey…
ERNA: All right, I can handle that. You want more blood? You’ll get your blood. And I already have the title in my head.
DAVE: Let’s hear it.
ERNA: It’ll be … “A Villain of Mercy“.
DAVE: Oh, Erna, it‘s fantastic – and he‘ll die at the end, will he?
ERNA: A negative character – happy end – deal settled.
DAVE: Great, Erna, I love you.
ERNA: Do you?
DAVE: No, I was kidding.
ERNA: You dirty pig!
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 7
(Erna enters the stage, a pile of books in her hands.)
ERNA: That’s hideous, dreadful and cruel! I’ve just returned from the second hand bookstore and it was full of my books. It cost me $125. Such quality in vain. For example: “The Twilight of Passion”. That one’s really good. When I was writing the last chapters – I almost cried my eyes off. Or “A Heartless Dude”. I really laughed a lot while writing that one. And here comes more: “Life Without You” – very good. “Poisonious Love” – marvellous. “A Medicine for Loneliness”, charming. You know, it’s a sin to leave these gems rot on the shelves of dirty, dusty store. I’ve bought them and I feel better. Pure jewels, they are. Every institution that deserves to be called library should list them among its most valuable items. Instead, they are stacked in some nobody can find second hand. It makes me cry. People are evil, heartless and I hate them. (Pause.)
Well, the hard bread is the writer’s bread. Harsh, bitter, but also full of joy. Oh, my books, my beautiful novels… (She’s on the floor and is getting excited.)
They are mine, mine, I’m a writer, a wonderful writer and that’s something exceptional! Take me! Take me, take me! I’m crazy about you! You savage, you womanizer, you Casanova! Aah, Aah, Ooh… (For a good moment she lies without a movement. Then she comes to her senses.)
Where am I? Oh, my little ones, come, my little cuties, do not be afraid of me, I’m your mammy, I will not hurt you, my baby, my sweetheart, don’t piss your pants off, you are hungry, are you? Come on, you will be fine, you can sleep now, pssh, pssh, pssh… (Sings in whispers.)
Baa baa black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir three bags full…
(Slowly, on the tips of her toes not to wake anybody walks to typewriter, sits for a moment and then starts banging its keys.)
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 8
(Erna lies on the floor, Graham stands next to her.)
GRAHAM: Don’t take me wrong, dear Erna, but as your psychoanalytic therapist…
ERNA: All right, all right, Graham, go ahead!
GRAHAM: So, first relax your body and mind. Just empty your mind, and let the thoughts disappear. Forget your everyday problems, let them go. You need to trust me, Erna, I’m going to help you… Relaxed?
ERNA: Yes, I’m probably going to throw up now.
GRAHAM: That’s ok, that happens sometimes, these feelings are pretty common. Just relax, close your eyes and empty your mind, don’t think of anything, ready?
ERNA: But what about my novels, what about my characters, my heroes?
GRAHAM: Forget them. (Pause.) Nice, and now you tell me, what do you see?
ERNA: I see a desert…
GRAHAM: Well done. It’s the state of your soul – drought inside of you – alright, let’s continue.
ERNA: Actually, it’s not a desert. It’s the tabletop of my writing desk, I see a cup of coffee there…
GRAHAM: Stop! We’re not getting anywhere. You’re only thinking about your work.
ERNA: It’s not my fault, I’m a writer, if you don’t mind.
GRAHAM: Yes, you are, Erna, but a person who works mentally has to switch off once in a while. It’ll make you feel better. Trust me. (Pause.)
ERNA: Graham?
GRAHAM: Yes?
ERNA: Why do you keep looking at your watch?
GRAHAM: I’m checking the time, Erna.
ERNA: And what did you find out?
GRAHAM: That I’ve been here exactly 27 minutes and 30 seconds, so far…
It means you owe me exactly 58 dollars and 40 cents. 41, 42, 43…
ERNA: You greedy selfish bastard!
GRAHAM: Oh, dear Erna, you break my heart. I’m not one of your fictional characters. I love money – beautiful, colourful and crispy…
ERNA: Can I be honest with you, Graham?
GRAHAM: That’s what I’m here for.
ERNA: You are one arrogant asshole and you’re giving me a headache.
GRAHAM: Wonderful Erna, go on. Spit it out.
ERNA: Jackass, douchebag, moron, schmuck, jerk, wanker…
GRAHAM: Marvellous, Erna, fantastic, give me some more…
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 9
(A doorbell.)
ERNA: (Out of the scene.) I’m coming, I’m in the shower, I’ll be right there.
(She appears in a bathrobe and goes to the door.)
Thank you. The letters again, it drives me crazy. People send me letters because they adore me. It’s the sad truth, but so be it. Let’s check them out. How about this one, what does it say? (She opens a letter, reads.)
“You’re fantastic, fabulous, please, don’t ever stop writing, I’ve got my fingers crossed for you. I have all your books. They’re a treat, really. How you describe life, and even more: love, hatred, courage, fame and fall, and so on, you know well yourself. I’m looking forward to the next title. Will it also be a bestseller? Yours, Emma. P. S. Maybe my husband wrote to you as well. He’s such a brute, don’t take it seriously. Once again – yours, Emma.” Oh, that’s horrible. Let’s try another one, let’s see, this one. There is a return address: Estelle Rigault, street address unreadable, nursing home. I’m getting curious. (Opens the letter.)
“My dear Erna. I pray to St. Clare for the Lord to bless you with good health so that you can write more of your wonderful and morally uplifting novels. Yours, Estelle.” Ah, there’s also a postscript. “Erna, we rewrite dialogues from your books and perform them as improvised theatrical scenes. It’s very funny, come to see us sometime, you’ll like it. But come as soon as possible because one of our actors died recently. Even the nurses like our little plays. Yours, Estelle. “Oh my goodness. Poor old thing. But that’s life. Maybe I’ll use it in my next novel. Well, what about this third one… (Picks up the letter.)
I’m writing back to this one. Oh,… (Opens and reads.)
“You old tramp!” Hm, tramp… that’s nice. “That crap of yours has damaged my wife’s brain completely and irreversibly… When I catch you, I’ll spit right in between your eyes! I’ll cut you into pieces! If you ever see me on the street, you better avoid me, because I’ll scratch your eyes out, you wench! Your passionate reader. “Well, the handwriting is neat. I hope it wasn’t written by Dave or Graham, that would be decadent. Perhaps some aesthete had a spare minute or two. Or some crazy fool, even if the letter can be called coherent, I don’t know, it doesn’t make much sense, hm… People are strange… Ah, there is also a P.S.
“I guess my wife’s gonna be writing to you, you harlot. All this because of you, you old nutcase!” Hm, nutcase… that’s nice. “Hope you’re looking forward to meeting me. Your passionate reader. Rudy – The Butcher.” (Pause.)
Oh, there are still decent people around. But I will write back to him. I have to meet him personally. I’ll suggest an appointment. That’ll be nice. (Sits behind the typewriter.)
Dear Rudy, my passionate reader…
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 10
(Erna and Melanie.)
ERNA: Well, I’m dying to know. What does he look like?
MELANIE: He is…
ERNA: Yes?
MELANIE: He is… short, fat, bald, wears glasses and he’s 55. And…
ERNA: Oh, dear Melanie, I’m shocked.
MELANIE: Well, that’s not all. Imagine…
ERNA: Wait, don’t tell me! You’ve finally grown up. If you don’t mind, I’ll continue. He owes a brand new Ford Mondeo, Cabriolet, of course, he’s divorced three times, a huge sum of money in the bank, doesn’t work, short of breath while playing golf, socially uneasy, anxious in bed… Correct?
MELANIE: Erna, I’m speechless.
ERNA: Whole in one?
MELANIE: Absolutely correct, spot on.
ERNA: Thank you.
MELANIE: How could you guess it all right?
ERNA: I didn’t guess. I wrote it. It’s the character from my new novel,
“The Routines of A Shark“.
MELANIE: The Routines of A Shark? A bit unusual for a title.
ERNA: You know, it’s about life and people, as all my books are. And by the way, don’t you want to know the end of the story?
MELANIE: (Hysterically.) No, Erna, why would I want to know it? I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I’m living the spring of my life. I feel like a teenage girl again, sorry… Try my heartbeat, I’m so aroused.
ERNA: Relax, I’ll tell you something. – It needs an affair.
MELANIE: You mean like…
ERNA: Yes, like.
MELANIE: And what about Gunther?
ERNA: He doesn’t have to know, darling. (Pause.)
MELANIE: Hm… You mean like – tall, black…
ERNA: Obviously, my dear. And I want to tell you one more thing, come closer. You have to, dear Melanie.
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 11
(Erna and Dave seated, drinking whiskey.)
ERNA: Dave?
DAVE: Yes, darling.
ERNA: Are you sleeping?
DAVE: No, I’m not, sweetheart.
ERNA: And what you are up to, Dave?
DAVE: I’ve been thinking, dear.
ERNA: What about?
DAVE: What about? Do you want to know?
ERNA: Dave, you scare me. ‘Course I do.
DAVE: I’ve been thinking, why that stupid Wilkinson earns 100 000 dollars more than me. Cheap lousy maggot!
ERNA: More than you? You mean us, honey…
DAVE: Ok, more then us if that makes you happy. (Pause.)
ERNA: Dave?
DAVE: What? (Pause.)
ERNA: Why aren’t we not a couple?
DAVE: Why? Don’t be silly. Our relationship is of a highly professional standard, it’s almost a sacred bond. A harmony of two souls, don’t you get it? You write, I sell, you write, I sell, writing and – sales… What are you doing?
ERNA: I’m seducing you, are you blind?
DAVE: Erna stop it, stop fooling around, what if someone comes in. Erna!
ERNA: You said harmony of souls, why not harmony of souls and flesh.
DAVE: Erna, that’s ridiculous!
ERNA: Dave, I get a box of letters from my fans every single day. Are you
aware of how many men are dying to spend a night with me?
DAVE: Of course, thousands.
ERNA: I even have a date with one of them in a couple of days.
DAVE: Sounds great.
ERNA: Yes, and for your information, he is a very nice man, gentle, tender and he has class, unlike you. His name is Rudy. (Pause.) Hey, Dave, don’t you care at all?
DAVE: Do you want to hear the truth?
ERNA: Yes. Are you gay?
DAVE: No. – But it’s me who‘s been writing those letters to you.
ERNA: No way! But how? They are handwritten, well mostly…
DAVE: I change the handwriting. Of course, it takes time. (Laughs.)
ERNA: But why, why would you do that?
DAVE: To keep you in shape, darling.
ERNA: No, I don’t trust you, prove it!
DAVE: You need proof? Fine then. (Pause.) “You wench“, shall I continue?
(Pause. Erna walks around.)
ERNA: Dave, but that’s fantastic!
DAVE: Is it?
ERNA: Dave, I’ve got an idea.
DAVE: Yes?
ERNA: We’ll bring the system into perfection. (Pause.)
DAVE: Erna?
ERNA: I’ll write the letters on my typewriter and you’ll mail them back.
DAVE: But Erna…
ERNA: Yes, and I myself will be in charge of letter supply. If you don’t screw it up, of course. Let’s say I’ll be in a bad mood, so I will write a few letters that will praise my work, send them to you, and you will rewrite them and mail them back and the next day they will be on my table.
DAVE: Erna!
ERNA: Dave!
DAVE: Erna!
ERNA: Dave!
DAVE: That’s crazy!
ERNA: Yes, I know, I’m a genius. Dave, are you all right?
DAVE: I don’t know, but I think I’ve just got crush on you.
ERNA: Forget it. Now let’s write the letters.
DAVE: Erna!
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 12
(A doorbell. Erna goes to the door.)
ERNA: There you are! It took you quite a while! But finally, you’re here, dear Cathy.
CATHY: Hm.
ERNA: We had a meeting at Dolphin‘s – why didn’t you show up?
CATHY: Hm.
ERNA: You forgot? You forgot our meeting?
CATHY: Hm.
ERNA: So why? Why didn’t you show up? Can you explain it to me?
CATHY: Hm. (Pause.)
ERNA: You are so quiet, just sitting and saying nothing. Anything wrong, Cathy?
CATHY: Hm.
ERNA: Something serious?
CATHY: Hm.
ERNA: Very bad?
CATHY: Hm. (Pause. Erna stands up and walks around.)
ERNA: How? How serious? Look, darling, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to tell me. It’s up to you. But I’m your best friend. Who else d’you want to tell?
(Pause.) Look. If anything, if anything happened to you, unless you tell me, it will haunt you for the rest of your life. You will hold it inside you and it will drain you out completely. Look, if you don’t want to tell me, fine. You don’t have to tell me everything right now. Just a few clues. A tiny part of what happened to you, and I might be able to help you. And if I won’t, at least you won’t bear the secret alone. You’ll feel lighter when you tell me and more at ease. Alright?
CATHY: Fine, I will.
ERNA: Good girl! I’m listening, darling.
CATHY: I…
ERNA: Yes?
CATHY: I…
ERNA: Well?
CATHY: Sorry, but it’s hard to speak about it. My body is trembling.
ERNA: That’s fine, calm down, relax. We have plenty of time, Cathy. (Pause.)
CATHY: I’ve torn that new blouse of mine.
ERNA: (Shocked.) Which one? The one you bought recently?
CATHY: Yes, that one. (Pause.)
ERNA: That’s terrible. And where is it? Show me.
CATHY: Here, in the bag, look.
ERNA: Let’s see, well, hm… How did it happen? – And stop crying, Cathy…
CATHY: I, I was walking over there, up that staircase over there I went and I and my blouse got caught in the banisters and it got caught and…
ERNA: Hush, stop crying, we’ll figure something out.
CATHY: But how? I know, we can sew it up but it won’t be the same nice, new blouse it was before. Don’t you get it? Are you listening to what I’ve been telling you?
ERNA: Hm. Worse things happen, Cathy.
CATHY: Worse? Is there anything worse than this?
ERNA: I don’t know… Someone could’ve died…
CATHY: I’d rather die myself now.
ERNA: What are you trying to say? It’s bullshit. And stop crying. Cathy, do you know what happened to me yesterday? I‘m telling you, you’re not the only one with bad luck.
CATHIE: (Brightens up.) What, what happened?
ERNA: Well, my hamster is dead.
CATHIE: Hamster?
ERNA: Yeah, the white one. I used to play with it and yesterday it died.
CATHY: How?
ERNA: How? Well, I fed it yesterday, poured water into its feeder, it had a few sips, opened its eyes, its body stretched, it shook a bit and that was it.
CATHIE: Shook?
ERNA: Shook. All over, the poor animal. Like this.
CATHY: Like that?
ERNA: Exactly like this. You see, and you are laughing. Looking great again. Shall we go outside?
CATHY: Let’s go. And what did you do with it afterwards?
ERNA: With the hamster?
CATHY: Yes.
ERNA: I buried it in the garden.
CATHY: Did you make a grave?
ERNA: Yes, a tiny one. (They leave happily.)
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 13
(A doorbell. Erna goes to the door. Dave enters and hugs her.)
DAVE: Erna, dear, I’m the bearer of great news. The reviews of your last novel are in.
ERNA: Show me, Dave. (Takes the papers from him and reads.)
“The worst novel of the year, absolute nonsense, literary catastrophe, delusion, rubbish, waste of time…“ That is what you call – great reviews?
DAVE:And what should I call it? D’you know how high sales will be?
Give me something to drink.
ERNA: Whiskey?
DAVE: Why not.
ERNA: Here you are. So, you think these reviews are good.
DAVE: They are the ones we’re after. Remember your previous novels? “Silly Heap of Nonsense“ – “Foodstuff Masterpiece“ and so on… And then the numbers: first edition – 45 725 000 prints. Second edition – 39 879 000 prints. You want me to continue?
ERNA: No, no, Dave, please, take my hand. Is it a dream or reality? Tell me,
am I dreaming or am I awake?
DAVE: Erna, dear Erna, we have won!
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 14
(Erna and Susanne sit drinking tea. Loud sips.)
ERNA: Oh, dear, lovely Susanne, it’s really not my fault that you haven’t…
SUSANNE: But I’m so terrified of doing a thing like that.
ERNA: You’re not as young as you used to be and you have to do it once. Overcome your fears. It’s like giving birth, first you feel pain then joy.
SUSANNE: Does it hurt a lot?
ERNA: It depends who and when. But it hurts, no doubts about it.
SUSANNE: I knew it.
ERNA: So? Only for a moment, after that it‘s good. The beauty and the bliss of it stay with you. Is there anything more I can do for you? Would you like to read one of my novels where I describe this problem in close detail? The title is “Drunk by Love“ and it’s really a great book. What do you think?
SUSANNE: I’m not sure. You think it would help?
ERNA: In any case, you will have the theory down.
SUSANNE: But I don’t know, I haven’t read a book in my life.
ERNA: You haven’t either? Goodness, what friends I have, they don’t have any class at all. (Pause.)
I’ll mark the specific chapters where the problem is discussed in detail.
SUSANNE: Well, I might try then.
ERNA: And stop shedding tears. I must show you out now, I have things to do. Dear Susanne, you should understand that ear piercing is nothing that complicated. And after all, if you want to wear the earrings so badly, you can wear clip-ons like I do. God help me!
SUSANNE: Thank you, Erna, I feel much better now.
ERNA: Bye, dear.
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 15
(Erna and Graham, standing opposite each other.)
GRAHAM: I don’t want to waste your precious time so I’ll be very specific. I love you, Erna!
ERNA: Oh, Graham! Your legs are knobbly and your breath smells. Dear, I couldn’t date someone like you.
GRAHAM: Who said anything about dating? I mean – marriage. I’ll organize an exquisite wedding ceremony. It doesn’t need to be a marriage based on love…. You know, I’m more interested in your money.
ERNA: That’s noble, Graham, indeed, but we would make a dreadful couple.
GRAHAM: But why?
ERNA: We are totally different. You know, I want a person who will match certain criteria. The characters in my novels are all ideal people and I expect my future husband to be the same. My little hero, wild and charming, a victorious conqueror, a sublime phantom … not a dull mummy’s boy like you are. Sorry Graham, but I’m going to be honest with you.
GRAHAM: (Sits down.) Never mind, I’m out of your league, I suppose… Then… I’m going to have to take out a mortgage.
ERNA: (Sits down.) Pardon?
GRAHAM: Mortgage to buy a house. I’m completely broke. I thought, I hoped the marriage with you would solve it all.
ERNA: Once more – I’m very sorry, Graham.
GRAHAM: Well, forget it, let’s get back to therapy. You said you see in your dreams a huge – tree.
ERNA: Yes, and there is more…
GRAHAM: Continue, Erna.
ERNA: Can you imagine, that…
(Lights off. Music.)
SCENE 16
(Erna stands in the front of the stage.)
ERNA: Today, my beloved ones, it is my birthday. You can’t imagine how happy I am. All my friends are coming. Take Melanie, she is a cocky peacock, but who cares. She comes in and starts: “Look at my new dress – stunning, isn’t it?” Or take Cathy, a stupid cow, she’ll walk through the door with that grimace of a half-demented idiot and: “Hello dear!“ And of course little Susanne will show up, comes in and says nothing, just smiles shyly at everybody. And the last one will be Dave – my agent. Zero wit with a capital Z. “How are you Erna – have you been writing ?“ And then they’ll all congratulate me. All very sincere, moving: “all the best, find true love“ and so on, and so on… Sometimes a teardrop, warm hugs and handshakes… I can’t wait. And the presents.
What a show. (A doorbell.)
Ah, here they come. (Goes to the door.)
Oh, Melanie, sweetie, welcome! (They kiss each other.)
MELANIE: Look at my new dress, Erna, stunning, isn’t it?
ERNA: It is cute, from the discount section, isn’t it?
MELANIE: You, you, you always find it out.
END OF SAMPLE TEXT
BUY THIS TEXT: here