My Girlfriend is an Alien! By Chris Defacto

OPENING MONOLOGUE

Hi, everyone. Welcome, and thanks for coming tonight. We’re gonna get started real soon, but first, you know, I need to say a few things. The exits are where you came in, and out the back. They ask us to say that for emergency purposes, not because I think you’re going to be needing to get up and leave in the middle of the show out of pure hatred for what you’re seeing. But then again, who knows. This whole thing is just…

(He stops himself, resets.)

Anyway. Please turn off your cell phones and electronic devices. Or not. You know what? Leave them on if you want. Go ahead and text or take a call. In fact, I’m gonna leave mine on.

(He pulls his phone out of his pocket to show that it’s on.

It’s not like anyone ever calls or texts me, so I might as well. You know, I probably should have started out by introducing myself. I wrote the play you’re about to see. My name is Chris DeFacto and it’s called My Girlfriend is an Alien by Chris DeFacto. It’s about three and a half hours long, give or take. Unless we, like skip some things or something. It tends to sag a little in the middle so maybe we’ll just jump over all that stuff. It’s running for as long as this theater will let us, so tell your friends, and it’s… It’s just not very good. I apologize in advance. Truth is, it’s not very original. You know, like, in the sense you’ve probably seen it all before. (beat) Also, I totally plagiarized it. Completely ripped it off. I can’t believe I just said that. I’m an asshole, but I feel a lot better. Look, obviously this isn’t the best way to start off a play. They told me to come out and be positive and all that crap and I intended to, but… never mind. You’re already sitting here and you already paid and who knows if this place even gives refunds, and we’ve already rehearsed it, so let’s just do this, okay? Thanks. Sorry.

(He starts to walk off and remembers he should try to exit on a high note. Unconvincingly:)

And now… My Girlfriend is an Alien!

ALLIE: Did you know crows recognize people by their faces?

DEFACTO: Do you see a crow somewhere?

ALLIE: No.

DEFACTO: We work on the same floor.

ALLIE: I can hardly see how that’s relevant to anything.

DEFACTO: It isn’t. I was just—

ALLIE: Maybe I’m a little in awe of crows because I have such trouble with facial recognition. All white people look the same to me. I know we work together. You’re the quiet guy in the cubicle decorated with all the cute little toys everywhere, which I’m guessing is your nonverbal way of letting everyone know that you’re not the kind of quiet guy that security needs to keep an eye on.

DEFACTO: No, I’m not dangerous.

ALLIE: We know. That Gumby doll on your desk is a beacon of comfort to us all. I’m Allie.

DEFACTO: Chris. You just started a couple weeks ago, right?

ALLIE: It’s a fascinating place.

DEFACTO: You think? In what way?

ALLIE: In its complete uninterestingness.

DEFACTO (he nods): Its utter lack of distinction puts it in a special class of conformity.

ALLIE: Good for you. It takes a refined eye to be able to recognize such profound sameness.

DEFACTO: I guess that’s why I noticed you.

ALLIE: Because I’m so regular?

DEFACTO: No, no. When you came in on your first day, it was like a parrot walking into an office full of blackbirds. Keeping with the bird analogy.

ALLIE: What kind of an office do blackbirds work in?

DEFACTO: You’re the bird expert.

ALLIE: So what makes me stand out?

DEFACTO: I don’t know. An energy. A vibe. I feel like you’re not from around here.

ALLIE: Um, no.

DEFACTO: New to the area?

ALLIE: Yeah.

DEFACTO: Where are you fr—

ALLIE: You’re unusual as well.

DEFACTO: What?

ALLIE: Like you said, an energy, a vibe. You seem weird. Odd. Bizarre.

DEFACTO: I’ve heard that before, actually.

ALLIE: That you’re strange?

DEFACTO: No. Well, yeah. But the crow thing. There’s a crow that I see every day outside my apartment, and I just KNOW he recognizes me, but he pretends like he doesn’t. Stuck-up little feathered fucker

ALLIE: How do people make friends here?

DEFACTO: Here… in town?

Are you… trying to make friends?

ALLIE: I’m not supposed to.

DEFACTO: Not supposed to?!

ALLIE: That’s not why I’m here.

DEFACTO: Not here to make friends. You sound like a reality show contestant.

Nonetheless… you’re curious about the friend-making process.

ALLIE: Yes.

DEFACTO: Well. You certainly picked the wrong guy to ask.

ALLIE: I did? (Defacto pinky bend)

Are you damaged?

DEFACTO: I caught my finger in the stupid drawer at my desk.

ALLIE: Would you like me to alleviate your pain?

DEFACTO: How?

What are you going to do?

ALLIE: I’m going to numb it.

DEFACTO: Numb it?

ALLIE: Do you trust me?

NUM NUM NUM NUM NUM!

Feel better?

DEFACTO: I do. (Beat) Do you wanna be friends?

ALLIE: Okay.

DEFACTO: Okay.

ALLIE: Good. Can I borrow $5,000?

(He stares at her. She laughs. He laughs too.)

DEFACTO: Where did you come from?

This might sound forward, considering we just met, and we work together, but—

RICK (O.S.): Uh, guys? We have to stop for a second.

DEFACTO: What?

RICK: One of our lights is out. I just need to run out back and grab the ladder and fix it. It’ll take five minutes, tops.

DEFACTO: Are you joking?

RICK: No. I tell better jokes than that. A nun, a duck, and a diabetic walk into a bar, and—

DEFACTO: We’re in the middle of a scene.

RICK: It’s an important light! It provides warmth, which this play sorely needs.

DEFACTO: Can’t it wait until one of our intermissions? (To the audience) I forgot to mention we have one fifteen-minute, one ten-minute, and one five-minute intermission.

RICK: As the lighting designer, I’m not comfortable with my work being judged unfairly because of an easily-correctable malfunction.

DEFACTO: As the stage manager, are you okay with disrupting a performance?

RICK: No, but the designer in me usually wins out in these situations.

DEFACTO: No one cares about the lighting! The average theater-goer doesn’t even think about that stuff.

RICK: I’m inclined to disagree.

DEFACTO: Fine. Sit in your little box and disagree with me. We’re going on with the scene now.

(He turns back to Allie.)

This might sound forward, but—

(The lights go to full black.)

Aw, come on!

RICK: I have the power here.

DEFACTO: Don’t be petty.

RICK: I can only let you continue knowing the entire audience is aware that they are not seeing the lighting plot that I designed.

DEFACTO: Jesus. House lights please!

Show of hands. Does everyone here acknowledge that they are not seeing the stage lighting that was intended for this show?

Happy?

RICK: Continue.

DEFACTO: This might sound for—

ALLIE: Since we’ve stopped… (To the audience) I’m sorry everyone, I just need a second. Chris, can we talk for a moment?

DEFACTO: Is it about us?

ALLIE (embarrassed): Us? What? No, it’s not about— Can we go backstage? (Again, to the audience) I really am sorry, folks. We’ll be right back.

DEFACTO: Let’s just talk here. I think the audience would appreciate the transparency.

ALLIE (to the audience): Talk amongst yourselves. How about this election, huh? [Or some other topical news story.]

Did we hear you backstage say that you stole this play?

DEFACTO: Oh. You heard that? Yeah. I mean, I guess. The idea of it. And some of the scenes. You could really say I adapted it.

ALLIE: So you got permission for that then?

DEFACTO: From who?

ALLIE: The writer!

DEFACTO: Oh. Not so much.

ALLIE: Does he even know?

DEFACTO: Maybe if he’s on the mailing list.

ALLIE: Chris!

DEFACTO: I did what I had to do. I’ve just been so uninspired, and I had to write something or I was seriously going to lose my mind, and I got desperate and just started writing this. Just as a way to get my juices flowing, you know? And when I was finished, it seemed like a waste to not do something with it.

ALLIE: We’re all acting in a stolen play. People might think we all knew about it. (To the audience): We didn’t know about it.

DEFACTO: What do you want to do? Stop the show?

ALLIE: These nice people went through the trouble of driving to Venice through summer beach traffic, and (points to audience member) your car is being broken into right now, so let’s do the rest of it for them, and then we’ll talk after.

DEFACTO: You and me?

ALLIE: Everyone. The whole cast.

RICK: I’d like to be a part of that. Actor’s Equity will probably have some questions.

DEFACTO: I’m sorry. I’m just not thinking straight today. I didn’t sleep last night, after you and I—

ALLIE: Let’s not bring up last night.

DEFACTO: Right. I’m sorry, it’s just—

ALLIE: Drop it.

DEFACTO: Are you mad?

ALLIE: It’s fine.

DEFACTO: Fine. Let’s just skip to the end of the scene.

ALLIE: It won’t make sense.

DEFACTO: Whatever. Let’s do this.

Um… So, yeah, tomorrow night then.

ALLIE: It’s a date!

DEFACTO: I thought you said we were friends.

ALLIE: Labels are what our coworkers put on their food in the refrigerator, as if that will stop me from eating their yogurt. Let’s be better than that.

DEFACTO: Tomorrow night, it is what it is.

ALLIE: Good boy. I have to go now if I’m going to squeeze in a nap in the supply room before they notice I’m not at my desk. Later, pal.

DEFACTO: Rick!

RICK: Hmm?

DEFACTO: Where’s Tino?

RICK: He just texted. He says a Prius full of hipsters tipped over on the 110. Big back-up.

DEFACTO: So…

RICK: So, I guess you’re on your own.

DEFACTO: We have a whole choreographed scene change to turn this park into a living room in a matter of 20 seconds. And you’re saying the audience is just going to have to sit here and watch me do it myself?

RICK: …Did you want me to come down there, or…

HOWARD: I got ya, pal.

DEFACTO: You don’t have to do that, Howard. You’re in the next scene.

HOWARD: I’m happy to. I’m just so glad you asked me to be in this play with you, man.

DEFACTO: Thanks, buddy. You’ve been so positive through this whole thing.

HOWARD: It’s just so nice to be a part of something like this, you know? Delving into a new work, treading the boards with fellow artists. We are warriors, fighting against the tired mediocrity of daily life by bringing living art to its feet, and giving it breath.

DEFACTO: Totes.

HOWARD: What can I get for you, oh captain my captain? Should I get the couch?

DEFACTO: No, forget about that. Just grab a blanket and a pillow, we’ll turn this bench into a sofa.

HOWARD (O.S.): Do you know what Tom Stoppard once said about theater?

DEFACTO: Don’t produce it with your own money?

HOWARD (O.S.): “Theatre is a series of insurmountable obstacles on the road to imminent disaster.”

DEFACTO: Sounds about right. Help me with this. Did he maybe say anything positive?

HOWARD: Probably.

DEFACTO (pointing to the other park bench): Would you roll that out?

HOWARD (as he exits with park bench): How about this from Stanislavski: “Unless the theatre can ennoble you, make you a better person, you should flee from it.”

DEFACTO: That didn’t help. Grab a chair while you’re out there.

On the spikes there. That’s fine. We’re all set.

HOWARD (bowing deeply to him): It hath been a pleasure working with you, my liege, and giving life to your beauteous words.

You’re such a stupid piece of shit.

DEFACTO: Why?

HOWARD: You’re thinking too much again.

DEFACTO: You think?

HOWARD: No, I don’t think! That’s what makes me fucking awesome!

DEFACTO: I was cursed with a brain. The gods are cruel.

HOWARD: It’s been the same your whole life. Gym class was a nightmare when we were kids. You couldn’t just relax and enjoy kickball with all the other boys and girls. You psyched yourself out every time.

DEFACTO: I wasn’t that bad.

HOWARD: Who strikes out in kickball? No one, ever! Even if they pop out or send it straight to first base, they at least kick it.

DEFACTO: I was waiting for a perfect pitch. I’d rather go down looking than give one of those kids the satisfaction of bouncing that big red ball off my head. That Jenny Blankenship was a little asshole.

HOWARD: News flash, buddy boy. The world is full of Jenny Blankenships. It never changes, in fact it only gets worse. They grow up and brush the pigtails out of their hair and somehow only become more evil. But you haven’t changed, and that’s not a good thing. You’re perpetually standing at home plate waiting for the perfect pitch.

Your line.

DEFACTO: Huh?

HOWARD: Your line.

DEFACTO: Oh. Yeah, sorry. Did she say anything?

HOWARD: Who?

DEFACTO: Allie. About me?

HOWARD: Not to me. Did something happen?

DEFACTO: I don’t know. You know…

HOWARD: Aww, man. I saw you two hit it off at the table read, and through the rehearsal process I watched both a play and something else, just as beautiful, develop. Gosh doggit!

DEFACTO: Yeah, it really was great, wasn’t it?

HOWARD: What happened, fellow warrior?

DEFACTO: I think I blew it. Especially with the whole… thing about stealing the play. But last night we— (remembers the audience is watching) This isn’t the time and place for this.

HOWARD: No, let’s talk it out, friendo!

DEFACTO: Seriously, we should get back to the play. Sorry folks.

HOWARD: I’ll just pick it up.

DEFACTO: Yeah, thanks.

HOWARD: Don’t be such a fucktard! You like her. Stop over-thinking it.

DEFACTO: My level of thinking about it is neither over- or under-thinked. It’s the perfect amount of thought about.

HOWARD: You’ve thought a lot about how much you’ve thought about this.

DEFACTO: I’ve never met anyone like her. By a certain point in your life, you think you’ve seen it all. But she’s all new. Like a different species.

HOWARD: That’s terrifying.

DEFACTO: It’s a lot of things.

HOWARD: She sounds like a mutant. She might have a full set of teeth in a place you aren’t expecting.

DEFACTO: I just don’t know how to go about this. I can’t think straight when she’s around.

HOWARD: Then she’s perfect. Don’t think straight. Don’t think at all. Just go for it. Most importantly—

DEFACTO: I know. Just be myself

HOWARD: Hell no. Be yourself? Give yourself a shot. Be someone else. Being yourself is what you’ve been doing your whole life, and look at you. Don’t be yourself. Be way, way better than that.

Whatever you do, just hurry up and bang her. It’ll clear your head.

Check for teeth first.

DEFACTO: Please tell me Tino’s here.

RICK: Just got an update. They’re still rounding up all the hipsters wandering the freeway. Also, he said that he forgot to put the fog machine in his car and it’s too late to turn around.

DEFACTO: You’ve gotta be shitting me.

RICK: Yeah, so we won’t have the effect when the spaceship comes to take the alien away.

DEFACTO: You just spoiled the ending for everyone!

RICK: The play is called My Girlfriend is An Alien. That ship has sailed.

DEFACTO: Whatever. We don’t need to do the scene change. Just hit the light cue.

(Wrong light cue)

This is the wrong cue!

(DOUBT CREEPS IN)

DEFACTO: Who are you? We’re doing a play here.

DOUBT: Yeah?

DEFACTO: Yes.

DOUBT: How do you think it’s going?

DEFACTO: It’s… going.

DOUBT: That’s charitable. She seemed pretty disappointed in you.

DEFACTO: Who?

DOUBT: You know who.

DEFACTO: Oh.

DOUBT: I think you blew it.

DEFACTO: You do? Like, irreparably?

DOUBT: You think a girl like that hands out second chances like sticks of gum? If you ever had any chance with her, you can forget it now.

DEFACTO: I don’t think I ever had much hope in the first place.

DOUBT: There you go, keep your expectations realistic. She probably likes smart, funny, successful guys with good skin and nutrient-rich hair. She might even be open to someone with just two or three of those qualities. But you? I mean… Come on.

DEFACTO: I have a truck.

DOUBT: Maybe at least when she thought you actually wrote this play. At least that was SOMETHING. But not really. This isn’t exactly high art, is it?

DEFACTO: Well…

DOUBT: Good luck winning an Ovation Award with this crap.

DEFACTO: Okay, yeah, maybe it’s not the greatest thing ever, but it’s not bad, either. It’s got heart. Kind of. It says things.

DOUBT: It does?

DEFACTO: It tries! I’ll be the first one to say that it’s not completely successful, but it comes from an honest place.

DOUBT: I’m sure that whoever really wrote it was very sincere.

DEFACTO: Just keep throwing that in my face.

DOUBT: He really poured his heart out into this play about a man who falls in love with a woman from outer space. Move over, Arthur Miller. Chris DeFacto’s on the scene.

DEFACTO: It’s a metaphor.