Buying a Computer

SCENE: A SALESMAN is standing side-on to the audience just R of centre-stage. He is wearing cheap black trousers, a purple shirt & scruffy black shoes. Next to & behind him is a plinth, & sitting on that plinth is a sleek modern laptop, which is open; in other words, it is a demonstration model. These props denote 'computer shop'. 

Another man, a CUSTOMER, enters from the L.


SALESMAN: Hello.

CUSTOMER: I want to buy a computer.

S: What kind of computer does sir have in mind ?

C: I want summat that fucking works.

S: A-ha ! [Pause. Count to 4 taking 'ha!' as 1.] I can see sir is a man of discernment. No rubbish for sir !


C grunts non-committally.


S: In that case, permit me to show you [indicating laptop ] the Samsung SuperDuper Universal S. I think it will meet, if not surpass, even the most far-fetched of sir's requirements. Its operating system is of course the very latest, Windows 8, which powers all of sir's essential software, allowing easy & disappointment-free access to all the facilities & sites one would expect: Google, Facebook, Twitter, Youtube, I-player, Spotify, Itunes, Netflix & wireless printing. It has in addition the very latest anti-virus & privacy software. But that is not all.

C: No ?

s: No - not by a long chalk. This machine, this marvellous machine, is the key - for a risible £600 - to an entirely new, & - if I may say - higher, state of existence. It will make your morning coffee, mow the lawn, redecorate the house, walk the dog, & feed the baby. Tired of your wife ? This machine will arrange a divorce & supply you with a new wife, younger, more alluring & - above all - more compliant; a charming companion who will also be your amanuensis & chief disciple. It will make your children more intelligent. It will make YOU more intelligent, & also miraculously more attractive, a sort of cross between Daniel Craig & Professor Brian Cox. Possession of this unprecedented machine will transpose you magically from your present cramped abode to a mansion in Knightsbridge, where you will reign supreme, on the one hand a noted particle physicist & on the other a genius investor in the international money markets. You will be another Plato, another Croesus ! You will be worshipped, you will be adored, you will be fawned on by creatures you are too enlightened to spurn !


Pause.


S: Well - what do you think ?

C: Does it fucking work ?

S: Yeah, it fucking works.

C: I'll tek it !


Blackout.

The Song of the Shades of the Dead Booksellers

Scene: A second-hand bookshop. The sides & back of the stage are lined with full bookcases, except for the stage L entrance which is the door to the street. There is a staircase in the back wall L. In the centre of the stage is a table, behind which the owner, CHRIS, is sitting, pricing books. The table is surrounded R, & in front if so desired, by piles of books. Browsing at the bookcases R is MATT.

The shop door opens, we hear the ring of its bell & a MAN walks in.


CHRIS: Hello.

MAN: Hello.

CHRIS: Are you looking for anything in particular ?

MAN: Ah . . . uh . . . I am actually. . . have you got any books on local history ?

CHRIS (pointing to the last bookcase on the wall L): Yes, we do, they're just there for you.

MAN: Thank you.


The MAN goes to browse the bookcase indicated. He pulls out various books one after another & examines them. Meanwhile CHRIS carries on pricing his books, MATT carries on browsing. Eventually the MAN assembles quite a large pile of books & takes them to the desk to pay, standing L of the desk.


MAN (handing the pile over ): There we are . . . is there a discount for bulk ?


CHRIS & MATT both burst out in helpless & prolonged laughter. The MAN is increasingly disconcerted.


CHRIS (collecting himself ): Sorry, that's terribly rude of me. (He collapses laughing again. Collects himself again. Wiping his eyes.) Oh, Lord ! Sorry ! I really am most terribly sorry.

MAN: Well, is there a discount or isn't there ?

ALEX (looking at him steadily): There is an answer to that.


Pause.


MAN (angrily): Well, what is it ?


CHRIS does not reply directly but turns L & shouts "LADS !!!" MATT meanwhile pulls out a guitar. From the staircase, a group of cobweb-covered men & women run down. They are dressed in grey & have grey faces & grey hair. Despite their sombre appearance they are very jolly. They are musicians, here to sing & play a song. 

The arrangement of the music can be as elaborate or otherwise as resources permit. The optimum is a full dixieland jazz band: piano, banjo, trombone, trumpet & clarinet. However it could be done with piano & trumpet, solo piano, solo guitar or banjo. Or whatever musicians are available.


MAN (astonished ): Who are they ?

CHRIS: They ? They are the chorus of the Shades of the Dead Booksellers of course.


Someone strums an opening chord - an A.


MATT: And they want to sing you a song !

CHRIS: And teach you a lesson !

MATT: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 . . .


MATT, CHRIS & THE SHADES now sing & play There Ain't No Discount for Bulk, which is a jazz song in the style of Bessie Smith.


    A                                 E                               A         A7
1. There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

           D                                                       A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

 A                                              A7
We don't want you to sulk - or turn into the Hulk

                 D                                                 B7
But there really ain't, there really ain't no discount for bulk !

           A                      E                               A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk


[Here the chord pattern may be repeated as many times as desired to enable whoever wants to / can to take a solo.]


      A                                 E                               A        A7
2.  There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

           D                                                       A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk

A                                                            A7
We don't mean to make you sore - but it's a frightful bore

           D                                                B7
We've heard it, oh we've heard it all a million times before !

           A                      E                               A
There ain't no - there ain't no discount for bulk.



The songs ends with a flourish. Everyone who has been singing cheers. 

Blackout.

Meet the Next Pope !

MAN walks on stage to C. Addresses audience.


MAN: Oh good, I'm glad you're here because I need to tell someone & you'll be the first people to know. I've just had some amazing news. Believe it or not - I'm going to be Pope !


Pause.


Yeah, you heard me right. It's all arranged - it's all stitched up. When Benedict pops off, that's it - I'll be in !

I've been giving some thought to my title as you can imagine, & the conclusion of my deliberations is 'Leo XIV'. Got a ring to it, don't you think ? Memorable. It reminds me of Louis XIV, a good precedent - 'the Sun Pope' !

It's a bit more complicated than that actually because I'm not just going to be the next Pope, I'm going to be the next six Popes, Leos XIV to XVIIII, it's all set up so my avatars can be Pope in turn. This is partly out of sheer greed for power, but also to ensure my reforms are enacted & secured.

Anyway, as soon as I'm installed, then THE FUN BEGINS. It's going to be great being Infallible I can tell you - useful doctrine that. I've got an outline programme for my decrees, my Bulls, already sketched out. They are really going to mess with the heads of the faithful. Bull no.1 - it's time to get on with it, chaps - from now on it's official - GOD DOES NOT EXIST ... but you've got to go on paying me anyway ! Dogma, schmogma. I'M THE POPE ! I DECIDE WHAT IS & IS NOT DOGMA !

Secondly, I'm going to canonise Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Voltaire & Darwin - with all the trimmings - Saints' Days, pilgrimages, processions - the works.

Thirdly I'm going to own up where most of our ritual, iconography & ceremonial dress comes from anyway & re-institute the Gods of Egypt to their rightful place in our worship. Oh yes - Osiris, Isis, Horus - all back. What do you think we've been doing all these years wondering about in fish-hats waving croziers ?
Ever seen an Egyptian frieze ? Don't answer that ! While I'm at it, we're going to return to the worship of natural phenomena as well - things we can see, things that are there: the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, the Earth, the Sky, the Sea. St. Peter's will of course be preserved as a museum, but will also double as a centre for astronomic, astrological & alchemical research. Standing stones, aligned with the Winter & Summer solstices, the phases of the Moon, & other celestial phenomena yet to be determined, will be introduced into the precincts.

Fourth on the agenda is I am going to issue an apology for all the magnificent pagan temples destroyed by our fanatical followers in the 4th century, & provide funds for their restoration where possible. Also an apology & our sincere remorse for all the people & groups we've persecuted over the years. I won't list them - it's pretty much everybody.

Fifth, I'm going to free Jesus of the burden of being responsible for Christianity. It's no good blaming him for it. If ever a movement was foisted retrospectively on its supposed founder, Christianity is it. Often happens. No big deal. Simple misunderstanding - a ... er ... misapprehension, you might say. Easily done.

Well, thanks for listening. I've got to be off now - I've got to get measured for my robes - the damn things take an age to make & cost a bloody fortune. Still I suppose it's worth it. I look dynamite in a tiara !

One final thought before I go - a genuine sentiment, not a joke - I can't wait to get my hands on the Vatican Library !


Blackout.

A Cup of Sugar

A perfectly nice, ordinary fellow has just moved in to a posh terrace house &, having run out of sugar, goes to knock on the door of his Neighbour to borrow some. Unfortunately he does not realise that his Neighbour is suffering from the delusion that he is a sort of 19th century Dr. Johnson.

PNOF enters R carrying an empty cup. He walks to C & knocks on an imaginary door. Neighbour enters L & goes to open the door. He is comically stern & impressive.


PNOF: Oh, hello, you don't know me but I've just moved in next door & I've run out of sugar & I was wondering - can I borrow some ? (Gestures hopefully with empty cup.)

N: You can, you can.

PNOF: Oh, good.


Pause. Neither moves.


PNOF: Well, can I come in ?

N: Oh certainly, certainly. You can borrow some sugar, you can come in, you are evidently perfectly capable of doing either of these things. But that is not the question. The question is - may you ?

PNOF (nervously friendly): Oh, yes, I see - well, may I ?

N: May you ? may you ?

PNOF: If it's not too much trouble.

N: Not too much trouble ?

PNOF: Yes.


They look at each other for a few moments. N looks penetratingly at PNOF, meanwhile gathering himself.


N: You, sir, are an importunate blackguardly wretch.

PNOF: What ?

N: A low , mean, sneaking fellow. Be off, or I'll summon the constable.

PNOF: I'm sorry ... I don't quite understand you ... I'd just like to borrow some sugar (gestures with cup) if I can, I mean, if I may ....

N: Not understand me, sir ? Not understand me ? You appear at least to speak English, so I take it I am not unfounded in the assumption you can understand it ? I am speaking perfectly good English, sir: I flatter myself I have some proficiency in that Art.

PNOF: Oh well, never mind ... it really doesn't matter ... sorry to have disturbed you ... I'll just be getting along ...


N seizes him by the collar.


N: What d'ye say, sir ? My interlocutor proposes to take flight ?

PNOF: Gerroff, gerroff !

N (shaking him): Hey, sir, hey ?


Suddenly, the penny drops for PNOF.


PNOF: Unhand me, sir !

N (taken aback, the mask slips): What ?

PNOF: Unhand me, damn you ! I'll not be handled by any man or ... or ... by George, he'll know about it !

N (letting him go): My dear fellow ! Pray excuse me ! I mistook you entirely !

PNOF (brushing himself off): That's alright, no harm done ... these things happen ...


Pause. They look at each other for a few seconds again.


PNOF: Can I borrow some sugar then ?

N (in an entirely ordinary voice): Er, no, sorry, I haven't got any actually.


Blackout.

Pytheas the Greek

Pytheas the Greek enters R, his Acquaintance enters L simultaneously. Pytheas looking disconsolate. They meet in the middle as if they had met by chance in the street. No need for costumes: doing it in modern dress increases the absurdity.


A: Hello, Pytheas, discoverer of the Tin Islands eventually to be known as Britain, how are you on this fine afternoon in the fair & renowned port of Massalia, that will eventually be known as Marseilles, in this excellent year 300 BCE ....


The actor playing Pytheas becomes increasingly impatient


A: ... although I can't possibly know that, having no idea who Jesus will be, any notion of the significance of his birth ....

P (out of character, aside): Have you finished yet ?

A (ditto): Not quite, sorry ... (resuming exposition) & indeed lacking entirely the concept "Christ". How, I say, are you ?

P (evasively): Fine, fine.

A: Are you sure ? You seem a bit down in the mouth.

P: No, no, I'm alright, really.

A: Come on, you can tell me. There's something bothering you. What is it ?

P: Well .... there is something actually.

A: What is it ?

P: Have you heard what they're calling me in the agora, in the market-place ?

A: No - nothing bad, I hope.

P: That's just it. Nothing bad, but nothing good either. It's purely descriptive. My name is Pytheas & I'm a Greek so they're calling me Pytheas the Greek.

A: Well, what's wrong with that ?

P: You must admit, it hardly seems sufficient for a man of my achievements. I mean - I'm a major explorer ! - I discovered the Tin Islands !

A: You did indeed, there's no denying that.

P: It's just not fair. Why can't I have an epithet which accurately reflects my character & achievements ?

A: Like what ?

P: I don't know - Pytheas the Far-Sighted, Pytheas the Almost-Omniscient, Pytheas the Divine ... what I could really do with is one that made me irresistable to the Ladies.

A: How d'you mean ?

P: One that made me overwhelmingly attractive to women, so that I had to fight them off with ... er ... ah ... something suitable for the purpose ...

A: Steady on !

P: ... so that the whole thing became a complete pain & I was totally sated & bored & indifferent & every time a beautiful woman came on to me I could say quite honestly 'Oh no, please, just leave me alone, all I want's a cup of tea & a biscuit.'


Pause.


A: That's what's really bothering you, isn't it ?

P: Yes.

A: And not the name thing at all ?

P: Yes. I'm just sick of being Pytheas the Disregarded.

A: How about Pytheas the Dirty Fucker ?

P: Accurate - but hardly attractive !


Abrupt blackout.