Randomly Composed Short Play #2
(A middle-aged father walks onstage, trying desperately to open a jar of pickles. An old man comes onstage from the other side, with a cane.)
OLD MAN
Just my luck! Days like this I need a good pickle. I like the ones with the stork. Always remind me of the day I was born. You listening, there, buddy?
FATHER
If you'd excuse me, besides the fact, sir, that I can't seem to open this damn thing, they're my pickles.
OLD MAN
You think I'm senile? You think my brain's gotten as wrinkled as the skin on my bones and soggy as the skin no longer on my bones?
FATHER
Never said anything like that. I respect the elderly. Could you give me some advice on how to open a jar of pickles?
OLD MAN
Now don't you think you've opened just about as many pickle jars as I have in my eighty or ninety years, buddy? I stopped eating pickles from the jar at retirement. It was part of my retirement. No more pickle jar opening. My wife gets them from the barrel and wraps them up in a little baggie. That's only when she goes to the marketplace in Philadelphia or Salt Like City.
FATHER
This isn't worth it.
OLD MAN
Nonsense! Your kids want pickles, give them pickles. And give me one, too, there.
FATHER
Someone else to dissapoint. It's just a pickle.
OLD MAN
A pickle's just a cucumber that got itself in a pickle. Greatest thing I ever said. But you'll give me one because I will help you open that jar.
FATHER
Look, you said.
OLD MAN
You know just as well as I do what that jar needs. Come on, buddy.
FATHER
It needs someone with rubber gloves. It just slips around in my hands. The thing sweats pickle juice.
OLD MAN
(holding up his hands)
Dry hands.
FATHER
Weak hands.
OLD MAN
Two of us, buddy. You're as smart as I am.
FATHER
Well, great. Here you go.
OLD MAN
No, you take the bottom.
FATHER
A counter-weight.
OLD MAN
That what it is called?
FATHER
Counter-motion. Just pull, already, old man.
(They twist, and it pops open.)
OLD MAN
Smell that vinegar! Taste that salt on your tongue before you even touch it. Ahh, here's one right on top, with the little tail and everything. The tail gives you something to hold onto-
(he takes a bite)
-as you put the little critter in your mouth.
FATHER
None of the rest of these have tails.
(The father puts a whole pickle in his mouth.)
OLD MAN
That's no way to eat a pickle, buddy. The art was lost before I was born. Had it my way, they'd just stay cucumbers, and we'd dip them in pickling. I'd dip radishes in pickling. I'd dip carrot cake.
FATHER
Thanks, that's very appetizing.
OLD MAN
I'm only out to help. Now, where's your children? I imagine their sandwiches are quite lonely. And you have Lays too?
FATHER
What sandwiches?
OLD MAN
Are you calling me senile?
FATHER
No, sir.
OLD MAN
You have to have Lays with your sandwiches. Lays potato chips on the left and a pickle on the right and the sandwich spilling over in the middle. It's the deli tradition.
FATHER
This isn't a deli. This is a midnight snack. For.
OLD MAN
Your son.
FATHER
My wife.
OLD MAN
Oh! She's pregnant. Of course, I should have seen it. Man only spends so much effort on his pickle jar unless it's his wife. Need help with the ice cream scoop?
FATHER
No, she takes her pickles with crackers and cheese.
OLD MAN
That's a child that will come out retarded.
FATHER
HEY! OLD MAN!
OLD MAN
Things I know.
FATHER
I would take back that pickle if it weren't down your gullet for that remark. Respect-
OLD MAN
I can vomit. It's pretty simple for us old people. We can do it and not even need a toothbrush. Years of practice. My wife was one of those bulimia models for a good twenty years and she can vomit like she's clearing her throat. I learn from her. She teaches the movie stars how to do it.
FATHER
You know, you are senile.
OLD MAN
Yes, but you're a liar. You don't have a wife.
FATHER
I'm a father!
OLD MAN
Without a wife?
FATHER
No! I'm happily married and it's not your business.
OLD MAN
Now, why would you go and tell me when I can detect lies?
FATHER
You're no smarter than I am.
OLD MAN
Sure I am, except when it comes to pickles. Pickles are universal. Learn them when you're twenty-four.
FATHER
No, I don't have a wife. I have a daughter, though. She didn't want the pickle. I wanted the pickle. I love pickles. They were my favorite food before I had a daughter and they're my favorite now, and occasionally even the most experienced pickle-eater gets hung up on a jar.
OLD MAN
I meant no offense, little buddy.
FATHER
I don't even know where you came from, although I guess I shouldn't be surprised pickles would attract old men when I open them in the park.
OLD MAN
I thought this was a grocery store.
FATHER
Are you playing senile, or are you senile? Cause if you're playing, old man, you're not doing a very good job.
OLD MAN
And if I'm senile, I'm doing a terrible job as well. I guess I haven't had much practice yet. Retired just the other day.
FATHER
Well, you know what? Happy retirement. Have some pickles. The whole jar.
OLD MAN
The whole jar.
FATHER
The whole jar.
OLD MAN
No, thanks, son. That doesn't make any sense. I just wanted one pickle. It's only a couple times in your lifetime of a good sixty-five years you want more than one pickle in a day. More than one and it's ruined.
FATHER
Fine, thank you for your help, sir, and the conversation. May you find pickles on each day you want.
OLD MAN
May you find a wife.
FATHER
(muttered)
Pickled bastard.
OLD MAN
Pip, pip, cheerio.
(They exit.)
OLD MAN
Just my luck! Days like this I need a good pickle. I like the ones with the stork. Always remind me of the day I was born. You listening, there, buddy?
FATHER
If you'd excuse me, besides the fact, sir, that I can't seem to open this damn thing, they're my pickles.
OLD MAN
You think I'm senile? You think my brain's gotten as wrinkled as the skin on my bones and soggy as the skin no longer on my bones?
FATHER
Never said anything like that. I respect the elderly. Could you give me some advice on how to open a jar of pickles?
OLD MAN
Now don't you think you've opened just about as many pickle jars as I have in my eighty or ninety years, buddy? I stopped eating pickles from the jar at retirement. It was part of my retirement. No more pickle jar opening. My wife gets them from the barrel and wraps them up in a little baggie. That's only when she goes to the marketplace in Philadelphia or Salt Like City.
FATHER
This isn't worth it.
OLD MAN
Nonsense! Your kids want pickles, give them pickles. And give me one, too, there.
FATHER
Someone else to dissapoint. It's just a pickle.
OLD MAN
A pickle's just a cucumber that got itself in a pickle. Greatest thing I ever said. But you'll give me one because I will help you open that jar.
FATHER
Look, you said.
OLD MAN
You know just as well as I do what that jar needs. Come on, buddy.
FATHER
It needs someone with rubber gloves. It just slips around in my hands. The thing sweats pickle juice.
OLD MAN
(holding up his hands)
Dry hands.
FATHER
Weak hands.
OLD MAN
Two of us, buddy. You're as smart as I am.
FATHER
Well, great. Here you go.
OLD MAN
No, you take the bottom.
FATHER
A counter-weight.
OLD MAN
That what it is called?
FATHER
Counter-motion. Just pull, already, old man.
(They twist, and it pops open.)
OLD MAN
Smell that vinegar! Taste that salt on your tongue before you even touch it. Ahh, here's one right on top, with the little tail and everything. The tail gives you something to hold onto-
(he takes a bite)
-as you put the little critter in your mouth.
FATHER
None of the rest of these have tails.
(The father puts a whole pickle in his mouth.)
OLD MAN
That's no way to eat a pickle, buddy. The art was lost before I was born. Had it my way, they'd just stay cucumbers, and we'd dip them in pickling. I'd dip radishes in pickling. I'd dip carrot cake.
FATHER
Thanks, that's very appetizing.
OLD MAN
I'm only out to help. Now, where's your children? I imagine their sandwiches are quite lonely. And you have Lays too?
FATHER
What sandwiches?
OLD MAN
Are you calling me senile?
FATHER
No, sir.
OLD MAN
You have to have Lays with your sandwiches. Lays potato chips on the left and a pickle on the right and the sandwich spilling over in the middle. It's the deli tradition.
FATHER
This isn't a deli. This is a midnight snack. For.
OLD MAN
Your son.
FATHER
My wife.
OLD MAN
Oh! She's pregnant. Of course, I should have seen it. Man only spends so much effort on his pickle jar unless it's his wife. Need help with the ice cream scoop?
FATHER
No, she takes her pickles with crackers and cheese.
OLD MAN
That's a child that will come out retarded.
FATHER
HEY! OLD MAN!
OLD MAN
Things I know.
FATHER
I would take back that pickle if it weren't down your gullet for that remark. Respect-
OLD MAN
I can vomit. It's pretty simple for us old people. We can do it and not even need a toothbrush. Years of practice. My wife was one of those bulimia models for a good twenty years and she can vomit like she's clearing her throat. I learn from her. She teaches the movie stars how to do it.
FATHER
You know, you are senile.
OLD MAN
Yes, but you're a liar. You don't have a wife.
FATHER
I'm a father!
OLD MAN
Without a wife?
FATHER
No! I'm happily married and it's not your business.
OLD MAN
Now, why would you go and tell me when I can detect lies?
FATHER
You're no smarter than I am.
OLD MAN
Sure I am, except when it comes to pickles. Pickles are universal. Learn them when you're twenty-four.
FATHER
No, I don't have a wife. I have a daughter, though. She didn't want the pickle. I wanted the pickle. I love pickles. They were my favorite food before I had a daughter and they're my favorite now, and occasionally even the most experienced pickle-eater gets hung up on a jar.
OLD MAN
I meant no offense, little buddy.
FATHER
I don't even know where you came from, although I guess I shouldn't be surprised pickles would attract old men when I open them in the park.
OLD MAN
I thought this was a grocery store.
FATHER
Are you playing senile, or are you senile? Cause if you're playing, old man, you're not doing a very good job.
OLD MAN
And if I'm senile, I'm doing a terrible job as well. I guess I haven't had much practice yet. Retired just the other day.
FATHER
Well, you know what? Happy retirement. Have some pickles. The whole jar.
OLD MAN
The whole jar.
FATHER
The whole jar.
OLD MAN
No, thanks, son. That doesn't make any sense. I just wanted one pickle. It's only a couple times in your lifetime of a good sixty-five years you want more than one pickle in a day. More than one and it's ruined.
FATHER
Fine, thank you for your help, sir, and the conversation. May you find pickles on each day you want.
OLD MAN
May you find a wife.
FATHER
(muttered)
Pickled bastard.
OLD MAN
Pip, pip, cheerio.
(They exit.)