BUMS By Robert Shaffron

BROADWAY VIC

(A chant.) Spare a little change, your luck might change. Spare a little
change, your luck might change. (A beat.) You believe in luck? Never mind.
Doesn*t matter. ‘Cause I*m about to tell you a little secret. This is a little
secret I know. I know it right down to the bone. I*m gonna tell you this secret
so you can know the truth. Then you can stop wonderin*. And when you
stopped wonderin* and you know the truth, then maybe you*ll slip a little
somethin* into my cup. You like this cup? Found it. Found it right there ‘bout
where you standin* at. Seen a man come out that little cafe ‘crosst the street
he had this little cup in his hand. Dropped it. Dropped it in the gutter right
there ‘bout where you standin* at. Fat, short little man. Had this big coat on,
had some kinda fur ‘round the collar. Had it turned up half up to his face so it
just about touch his hat where it come down on his head, so*s you could only
see a little bit o* face kinda, you know, peekin* out. Pink face. Short, fat little
pink face man. I pick up this cup here, and I shook out the last few drops of
coffee, an* I held it out to this man, say, "Spare a little change, your luck
might change." So this fella he look at me he say, "That don*t rhyme. Can*t
rhyme ‘change* wif ‘change.* Can*t rhyme a word wif its own self." I say, "I
don*t claim to be rhymin*. I*m just astin* for a handout." He walked. Didn*t
gimme nothin* either. But I got this cup off ‘im, so I guess that*s somethin*.
(A beat.) Spare a little change, your luck might change. (A beat.) I ain*t
forgot. I*m gettin* to it. You wanna know that secret I promised you. Here it
is. Whether you believe in luck or not, it still is. Damn, that*s all there is. It*s
all luck. Good luck and bad luck and dumb luck. Everything there is and
everything there ain*t it*s just luck. I know ‘cause I lived luck. How come I*m
here on this corner in these pissy pants talkin* to you is luck. May not be
good luck, but it*s luck. Very happy to make your acquaintance. My name is
Broadway Vic. This here*s my corner. You got a dollar?

KEELY AND DU by Jane Martin

Cole:

Hello, Keely. (No answer. She regards him.) Your dad*s well. I see him every
day. I brought one flower because I didn*t know what else to bring. I got it
out of your yard. (He puts it at the bottom of the bed and backs away again.)
Are you all right? You look all right. (He turns to WALTER.) What I did, it was
something an animal would do. I should have been killed for it. I would wake
up in the middle of the night and think that. Every night. I couldn*t stand to
look at myself. I didn*t like to look down and see my hands or my feet. I
wouldn*t use a pen or a pencil because then you have to see your hand. I
grew a beard because I couldn*t shave. I wore the same clothes all the time,
I was up to a quart of booze a day. I was out. I wasn*t human anymore. I
won*t describe it. Remember when we went down to Pensacola? That was
some trip. Hey, I got your cat. I*m taking care of your cat You got it after,
right? I*ve been wondering what its name is? Your cat. What its name is? It*s
a great cat. I call it Stripes, you know, because I don*t know. (A long pause.) I
would cut off my hand, you know, like they used to do. I would do that if it
would make a difference. I would do anything.Anything. Take me back.
Forgive me. I loved you in a bad way, a terrible way, and I sinned against
your flesh and spirit. God forgive me. I*m an alcoholic but 1 don*t drink now.
I don*t know. . .1 was. . .lived like. . .didn*t know right from wrong, but I*m
with Jesus now. I accept him as my Lord and he leads me in his path. I will
stay on the path. I will stay on the path. We were married, Keely, you are
carrying my baby, let*s start from there. I put you on a pedestal, Keely, I do, I
wouldn*t say it, and I am in the mud, I*m drowning and I ask you to lift me
up and then we minister to this child. Jeez, Keely, our child. You know in my
house, in my father*s house, Jeez, what were those kids, they were nuthin*,
they were disposable. In your house, right, you know what a time you had.
You know. But it can be different for him. I*m different, look in my eyes, you
know that. Hey, my temper, you know, I don*t do that, it*s over. (Indicating
WALTER.) Ask him is it over. I think about you every minute, every day. I want
to dedicate my life to you, because it*s owed, it*s owed to you. You got my
baby. I hurt you so bad you would kill a baby! That*s not you, who would
describe you, you would do that? Jeez, Keely, don*t kill the baby. I brought a
book we could look up names, we could do that tonight. You pick the name, I
would be proud. I*m going to wait on you. You*re the boss. They got me a
job. I*m employed. Five o*clock, I*m coming home. Boom. No arguments. I
help with the house, we can be partners, I understand that guys, you know,
we didn*t get it, you know, that was yesterday, that*s over. I*m back from
the dead. I don*t say you should believe, me but because the baby you
should test me out. You gotta take my hand here, we could start from there,
I*m asking you. (His hand extended)

Tangled Up in Blue by Brad Boesen

A man has confessed his love for a long time friend and been rejected.
Yeah, so am I. (turns to leave. Stops short. Pause) You know.--I know this was
bad timing. I know you guys... I know you just broke up. I do. But ever since
I've known you, you've always been in a relationship. You always have.
Always. And in the few, brief times when you weren't in a relationship, I was,
so we... We just never... And I know I've had too much to drink, but I just
need to finish this now, and say what I need to say, because--the way
things... The way it looks now, we're not going to be spending so much time
together anymore. (cutting her off) And I just need to say this. I need to say
this. I need to get this out. (pause) I'm sorry--that I put you through this. But
for as long as I can remember, since--as long as I can remember, I've been
settling, you know? I remember-it must have been seventh or eighth grade-
my first girlfriend. I mean, we'd talk to each other in the halls, and sit by
each other in study hall, and, next thing I knew, she was calling me at home,
asking what I though she should wear to the dance that I hadn't actually
asked her to. So I guess she was my girlfriend. But I remember walking home
from school one day, and thinking I don't, really, even like her. I mean, she
was nice, you know? I liked her. But I didn't--like her. She bored me when
we'd talk. But I remember, even then, that long ago, in junior high school,
thinking, what if I never meet anyone else? What if--no one else ever wants
to go out with me? Because, believe me, the offers weren't pouring in any
better then than they are now. And I really didn't think I would meet anyone
else. (pause) And then I met you. (pause) I mean, you know, several years
later, but... (pause) You remember the first time I saw you?(shaking his head)
That's the first time we met. The first time I saw you was in the park about--a
month before that, on the swings. (slight smile) You remember? I thought I
told you. It was really late at night, and I couldn't sleep, so I was walking.
And you were--sailing back and forth in the moonlight with your eyes closed--
your hair blowing... Even now, when I think about it, I can remember every
detail. And then, when I actually met you at the party, we were so good
together. We were just so--good. But you were with someone. And you've
been with someone ever since. And we've gotten to the point, now, where I
really can't imagine not being your friend. I can't... I just can't imagine my
life without you. (pause) You asked me why I never stayed very long with the
women I've dated; it's you. Because of you. Because I didn't want to settle
any more. I've been doing it all my life, and I didn't want to settle. And every
woman I met, every one, I would compare them to you, and they weren't
you. They just weren't. And I refused to settle until...until I knew one way or
another. So don't tell me that I'm just drunk, or that I don't really feel the way
I feel, because I've had four years to think about this, and I know how I feel.
All My Sons By: Arthur Miller

CHRIS Chris Keller is a good son and has never revolted against his father
until now. He went to war with his brother, Larry, but only Chris came back.
His father, Joe Keller, owns a factory that made cylinder heads for airplanes
during the war. Joe shipped disabled parts out of his factory which ended up
killing many American pilots, but he blamed it on another worker. Chris has
finally found out after many years that his father is responsible for the
incident, and his father is not who Chris thinks he is.

Dad...you did it? (Shocked but keeping voice down) You did it to the others?
You sent out a hundred and twenty cracked engine-heads and let those boys
die! How could you do that? How? (Voice rises with anger) Dad...Dad, you
killed twenty-one men! You killed them, you murdered them. (Becomes more
furious) Explain it to me. Explain to me how you do it? What did you do?
(Pause) Explain it to me goddammit or I will tear you to pieces! I want to
know what you did, now what did you do? You had a hundred and twenty
cracked engine-heads, now what did you do? Why'd you ship them out in the
first place? If you knew they were cracked, then why didn't you tell them?
(Relatively long pause, becomes more disgustedl) You knew they wouldn't
hold up in the air. You knew that those planes would come crashing down.
Were you going to warn them not to use them? Why the hell did you let them
out of the factory? (Pause) You were afraid maybe! God in heaven, what kind
of a man are you? Kids were hanging in the air by those heads. You knew
that, and yet you did nothing about it! (Startled) You did it for me? You
wanted to save the business for me? (With burning fury) For me! Where do
you live, where have you come from? For me!-I was dying every day and you
were killing my boys and you did it for me? What the hell do you think I was
thinking of, the Goddam business? Is that as far as your mind can see, the
business? What is that, the world-the business? What the hell do you mean,
you did it for me? Don't you have a country? Don't you live in the world?
What the hell are you? You're not even an animal, no animal kills his own,
what are you? What must I do to you? I ought to tear the tongue out of your
mouth! What must I do? (Begins to weep) What must I do, Jesus God, what
must I do?

Glengarry Glen Ross (1992) by David Mamet

Ricky: You stupid fucking cunt. You, Williamson. I’m talking to you, shithead.
You just cost me six thousand dollars. Six thousand dollars and one Cadillac.
That’s right. What are you gonna do about it? What are you gonna do about
it, asshole? You’re fucking shit. Where did you learn your trade, ya stupid
fucking cunt? You idiot. Who ever told you that you could work with men? Oh,
I’m gonna have your job, shithead. I’m going downtown, I’m gonna talk to
Mitch & Murray! I’m going to Lempkin! I don’t care whose nephew you are,
who you know, whose dick you’re sucking on. You’re going out. I swear to
you, you’re going out! Anyone in this office lives on his wits. What you’re
hired for is to help us. Does that seem clear to you? To help us. Not to fuck us
up. To help men who are going out there to try to earn a living. You fairy. You
company man. I’ll tell you something else, I hope you ripped the joint off. I
could tell our friend a little something that might help him to catch you. You
wanna learn the first rule you’d know if you ever spent a day in your life: You
never open your mouth til you know what the shot is. You fucking child.

Marisol/ Jose Rivera/ Angel

Angel:

I kick-started your heart, Marisol. I wired your nervous system. I pushed your
fetal blood in the right direction and turned the foam in your infant lungs to
oxygen. When you were six and your parents were fighting, I helped you
pretend you were underwater; that you were a cold-blooded fish, in the
bottom of the black ocean, far away and safe. When racists ran you out of
school at ten, screaming, I turned the monsters into little columns of salt! At
last count, one plane crash, one collapsed elevator, one massacre at the
hands of a right-wing fanatic with an Uzi, and sixty-six-thousand-six-hundred-
and-three separate sexual assaults never happened because of me. Now the
bad news.
I can’t expect you to understand the political ins and outs of what’s going on.
But you have eyes. You asked me questions about children and water and
war and the moon: the same questions I’ve been asking myself for a
thousand years.
The universal body is sick, Marisol. Constellations are wasting away, the
nauseous stars are full of blisters and sores, the infected earth is running a
temperature, and everywhere the universal mind is wracked with amnesia,
boredom, and neurotic obsessions. Because God is old and dying and taking
the rest of us with Him. and for too long, much too long, I’ve been looking
the other way. Trying to stop the massive hemorrhage with my little hands,
with my prayers. But it didn’t work and I knew if I didn’t do something soon,
it would be too late. I called a meeting. And I urged the Heavenly
Hierarchies–the Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Principalities,
Powers, Virtues, Archangels and Angels–to vote to stop the universal ruin…by
slaughtering our senile God. And they did. Listen well, Marisol: angels are
going to kill the King of Heaven and restore the vitality of the universe with
His blood. And I’m going to lead them.