STUPID F***ING BIRD- NINA LINES

SORN. By the lake. Near an ancient little outdoor stage. Approaching dusk…

[SCENE TWO]

Hi hi hi…

CON. Where the hell have you been?

I’m so sorry--

CON. How can you always be / late? You’re like a genius of lateness, a f***ing—

I know, I know / I’m sorry, I love you I just couldn’t--

CON. Well- okay, good, all right.

Can I just…?

CON. Sure.

I’m so nervous!

CON. You’re gonna be great!

I remember your mom performing down here when we were little. She was always so unbelievably good…

CON. Yeah…

Won’t she kind of hate it that I’m performing here now…?

CON. She’ll love it.

And are they really coming? Both of them?

CON. I think so. She said so. Though you never know / with my mother…

What’s he like?

CON. Who, Trigorin?

Of course.

CON. Jesus, I don’t know…

Oh, c’mon. You’ve met a bazillion famous people with your mom, but I never get to meet anyone, so / I’m curious.

CON. He’s fine. He’s quiet and humble and and and unassuming in this very assuming little way that makes sure you can’t help but notice how humble he is.

I love his work.

CON. You do? I didn't know you’d / read anything—

Not that much, really just THE LAUGHING DOG LAUGHED and his first book of short stories, THE STARK-NAKED HEART. But they’re / amazing.

CON. I’ve never read any. Are you almost ready? Do you / need to…?

Really?

CON. What?

You’ve never ready anything?

CON. No. Why?

Even since your mother and he have / been--?

Especially since then. I mean-- you know?

No. Sometimes I don’t think I understand you at all.

CON. Excellent. And on that note--

Or your play, for that matter.

Perfect.

What if they won’t talk when they’re supposed to?

CON. They will.

But what if they won’t?

CON. Then they won’t.

What if they hate it?

CON. Then I’ll shoot myself in the head. They won’t hate it.

What if they hate me?

CON. You’re perfect in it. Radiant. Ideal. They’ll all fall completely in love with you. Trust me.

I do.

CON. Good.

Oh, look!

CON. What?

Holy Cow-sie-dotes! Look at that seagull. So… elegant. And I’ve never seen one so amazingly white like that. She’s almost glowing from the sunset…

CON. Yeah… It’s really pretty.

Just look at her, Connie…! She’s just… floating up there above it all. Not a care in the world. That breaks my heart a little, somehow. And it looks like we’re wearing the same dress!

CON. Are you, umm, ready?

I think so.

CON. Excellent. Have fun.

I will.

CON. You’re awesome.

And you’re a genius.

CON. And you’re my only muse!

Enjoy this!

CON. You enjoy it!

No you!

CON. Anyway. Right. Okay, here we go…

[SCENE 4]

Here we are. Here we are. Here. We. Are.

This is real, this is true,

This is new, this is now…

A new place,

A liminal space,

A place of grace

And the boundless pursuit

Of beauty

A place where truth

Might be told--

Where streets

Are not lined with gold,

But just maybe with something better--

Unfettered

Possibility,

Lively Maybe’s

And vital Why-The Fuck-Not’s

Not people like robots,

All piping the same tune,

The tried and un-true,

The Nothing-Ever-Really-New…

Not a fiction tract

But a fact

Not just art,

But a start.

EMMA. Oh, Lord…

MASH. Shhhhh!

So. Here We Are. Aren’t we? Aren’t we here? You, sir. Are you here? Are you here?

SORN. Umm…

Are you here? A simple question. Are you here with me, with we, now?

SORN. Umm… I think so…

Good. And you, ma’am. Are you here?

EMMA. It certainly seems that way…

Oh.

EMMA. She asked the question…!

But… but if we’re all really here, then where are we really? What is this place, this sacred space where we’ve gathered for this one moment in time?

EMMA. Well, are we supposed to answer or aren’t we? I’m just--

Here we are.

Here We Are…

Not in a lie

Not some

Time-Gone-By Fable

Or Far-Fetched Fairy Tale

Nothing stale

Not a retread or a rehash

Nothing tarnished or trashed

By hacks or the hackneyed,

By starlets or star-turns

By has-beens who’ve crashed and burned…

This is just This.

This is just This.

This is just This.

This is just This.

This is just what it IS,

Not some bullshit show-biz

Not a reference to another place

Or another time,

Not some Once Upon A Kingdom built on Rhyme

And meter, but something sweeter,

A place and a moment

So patently un-true

It just might be new.

So different in feel

It might be realer than real.

So where are we now? Are you still in the same place you were five minutes ago? What is going on inside of you right now…?

SORN. Is she still here? Nina?! Nina?!

Hello?

EMMA. Lovely, my dear, well done.

Thank you so much.

TRIG. Indeed. Lovely. I’m Doyle Trigorin.

Oh, I know. I’ve read your books. Well, nor all of them, but -- you know. A lot.

SORN. You were ravishing, my dear. I’m only sorry it was so brief.

Oh, there was a lot more.

TRIG. Well, maybe some other time.

I should go and see if I can find… Connie…

TRIG. I find it amazing, this… human capacity to care. And I hate to say it, but I’ve noticed it makes shockingly little difference what one chooses to care about. I see people get so unbelievably… worked up over remarkably mundane things. A shade of paint. An unkind review. Whether the muffins will make it to the big meeting in time… even though no one ever seems to eat the muffins at the meetings, as far as I can tell. But still: Muffins there must be! Or heads will roll!

You don’t get… worked up?

DEV. Oh, nothing. just—love muffins. A really good muffin. I just really like them.

TRIG. Ah…

Well, I should probably really get going…

TRIG. Wonderful work.

Thank you, that means the world to me…

TRIG. Emma…

That’s all I want. To be an actress. Like you.

EMMA. Then I am sure that’s what you’ll do. Good-bye, then.

Good-bye. Oh, and so sorry about the dress, I had no idea…

EMMA. She doesn’t know who that is…

So nice meeting you. Good-bye everyone!

DEV. The next day. Down by the lake. Con sent Nina a note. ‘Meet me. Noon 30. The place. Con.

[SCENE 10]

So, there’s this story of his called THE TINY SACRED--it’s in his first collection, from when he was even younger than Conrad is now, I think-- and there’s this little orphan girl in it. Her name is Annabelle, but they call her the Thimble. Isn’t that great? And she has… consumption, or something, so she lived mostly in her tiny little room, mostly in bed, and she creates these imaginary worlds within worlds in the swirls on her bedspread and things like that…

But when things are particularly bleak… she does The Hope Dance.

On her bed. All alone. At night. The Hope Dance.

Don’t you love that?

So when I was maybe 10 or 11, after one particularly terrible day-- you know, evil step-father, drunken rage, poor me, blah blah blah-- one night I just got up on my bed in the middle of the night and… I did it. I did The Hope Dance. And I instantly felt better. He gave that to me. He gave me that gift.

And now he’s right here. And… and he seems to like me. Me! While he was talking to me last night and I got weak in the knees. That’s a thing that actually happened. My knees got weak… he touched my arm right her for, like, two seconds, and I swear it burnt me. I mean… what am I supposed to do with that?

I love Conrad. I do. He’s great… And he loves me so much it seems… well… it seems kind of wrong…or awkward… or impolite not to love him back. And I do think he’s totally amazing and really talented, but… but…

MASH. Oh.

Oh. Hi. Were you--

MASH. What?

Looking for Connie?

MASH. Why?

You weren’t?

MASH. No, I- whatever.

You were?

MASH. Yes. What about it?

Nothing, I just… I haven’t seen him. He should be here soon, though. He asked me to meet him here.

MASH. Of course. Okay…

Mash?

MASH. How can I help you?

How can you-? Umm…

MASH. Don’t stress it. I was being ironical.

I know. I’m not stupid.

MASH. I never said you were.

I didn’t say you / did.

MASH. I know you’re not stupid.

And I know you’re not.

MASH. Okay. We’re neither of us stupid. So… how can I help you?

I just wanted… I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.

MASH. For?

You know… “All The Things”.

MASH. You’re sorry?

Yes.

MASH. For “All The Things”?

I am.

MASH. Good. See you later.

Good luck.

MASH. F*** you.

Okay. Mash?

MASH. Yes???

Can I just say… f*** you and your little black cloud! I didn’t do anything to you ever. Not ever! You can star in your own little lovelorn tragedy until the end of time and wear, you know, sack cloth and ashes on your soul but the universe is not out to get you and no one here has DONE anything to you (especially me), and I think you know that, and if I were you I would get my head out of my a** and take a look around and and and… you know… make some fresh choices!!!

MASH. Gosh, thanks for the relationship advice! You’re really the person I look to-

Just because I’m me doesn’t mean I’m wrong. And just because you’re meaner than me doesn’t mean you’re right.

MASH. Wow.

I’m just sayin”

MASH. I-- You have no-- Okay. Okay…

What’s that?

CON. A bird.

A bird?

CON. I shot it.

Shot it? You shot it? You shot a bird?

CON. Yep.

Why? Why?

CON. Hard to say.

What kind of bird?

CON. I don’t know

It it a seagull?

CON. Why?

I don’t know

CON. Yeah, it’s a seagull.

Really?

CON. I don’t know.

What kind of bird it it, then?

CON. Some stupid f***ing bird, how should I know, just some stupid f***ing bird!!!

Did you really shoot a bird? Is there really a dead bird in that bag?

CON. Yes.

Is it a seagull?

CON. Yes!

And you shot it???

CON. Yes!!! It was fun. I’ll be next.

What?

CON. Chances are!!!

What does that mean?

CON. I’m losing it! I’M LOSING IT!

Connie, what’s happening / to you?

CON. What happened?

…

Makes me feel like one of those broken little limp dead mice that Atticus The Atticus used to bring into the house and drop in front of you when we were young and small and happy and free???

Connie, I—

CON. Oh, look. Here come Trigorin.

Where?

CON. Oh. Okay, Great, excellent, gotta go, take it slow, see ya later.

Wait, what are-- Con. Con!

TRIG. Hello, Nina.

Hello, Mr. Trigorin.

TRIG. Please, Doyle.

Excuse me?

TRIG. Doyle. It’s my name. Please /. call me Doyle

Oh, I know I know that.

TRIG. I thought I’d just come and say good-bye. I saw you down here.

Oh…

TRIG. Well, I should go pack. We’re leaving today. Suddenly. A whim, it seems.

Oh. [beat] I’m sorry.

TRIG. For what?

That you’re going.

TRIG. So am I.

May I…ummm…

TRIG. Yes?

Ask you a question. May I ask you a question?

TRIG. Of course.

Well. I’ve just been wondering… I just really want to know- oh, it’s stupid.

TRIG. No, go on.

What does it feel like? To be famous. What does it feel like?

TRIG. Ah…

And a genius, too! What does it feel like to be a famous genius?

TRIG. Oh, Nina…

Why are you laughing at me?

TRIG. I’m not. It’s just that… it’s… it’s not something you feel…

That can’t be true. You matter. People write about you and think about what you say. You have the ear and eye of the world. That must feel like something.