the endless and therefore tragic distance between a guy and his own guts

in play writing we are writing 1 play every day for 7 days. do you realize i steal things as titles for my posts a lot? like this one. it is from a suzan-lori parks play, which was part of this thing she did where she wrote a play a day for a year. which is obviously were my teacher got the idea for 7 plays in 7 days. i personally am excited about the whole thing. especially because we are allowed to suck. which i always do anyway so it is nice when it is written in to the rules.

here is my first one:

Day 1: March 7, 2007
The Drug Kid Might Not Actually Be On Drugs

(There is a KID, a boy, probably 15 or 16 in a baseball hat and baggy jeans and a dirty jacket, standing on the stage smoking a cigarette. A GIRL walks on stage. She is on her way home from work and she is tired.)

KID: Hey, bust a rhyme for a dollar.

GIRL: What?

KID: I said, I’ll bust a rhyme if you give me a dollar.

GIRL: A rhyme about what?

KID: You know, the streets.

GIRL: I wish I could hear it dude but all I have is one dollar and I need it to buy some food or something.

KID: Ahh come on, you can’t buy food for a dollar. Are you crazy?

GIRL: Well, I was thinking a bagel or something.

KID: (Thinks about this for a second. He hadn’t considered a bagel.) True. That’s a good idea. (Suddenly something brilliant occurs to him.) You could get a bagel with cream cheese up the street for a dollar twenty five. (He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a quarter.) Here. (He hand it to the GIRL.)

GIRL:

KID: Hey, can I bust a rhyme anyway?

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