Capricornucopia 2013
It's been a while, eh?
This is long, long overdue - but I do want to post it before the end of the year. Our theme this time was to take established titles and write something completely different - for example, "Jaws" as a feud between rival dentists. As always, it was monumentally silly.
So, at long last, here's my humble offering from this past year's Capricornucopia:
THE GREAT ESCAPE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
NARRATOR
CAT
SKIPPER
GILLIGAN
GINGER
SARGE
ONE
X
Y
DOCTOR
NARRATOR:
Greetings, everyone, and welcome to Capricornucopia Cinema! Tonight we have a special treat for you.
In the past you’ve seen us present many exciting works of theatre.
We’ve brought you heart-rending dramas, like Cat On A Hot Tin Roof…
The CAT begins to walk across the stage
CAT:
Meow. Meow. Meow.
The CAT reaches the hot tin roof (midstage) and keeps walking.
Meow. Meow. (quickly) Meow-meow-meow-hothothot-ow-meow-meow-ouch-meow-meow.
The CAT reaches the other side of the stage. He blows on his paws, then continues walking offstage.
Meow. Meow. Meow.
NARRATOR:
Then, we brought you a tale of gore and bloody horror - “Ginger Snaps”
Enter SKIPPER, GILLIGAN, and GINGER.
SKIPPER:
GIL-LI-GAN!!!
GILLIGAN:
Gee, Skipper, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spill all that coconut milk. Sorry, Ginger!
GINGER:
Oh, no! My last dress! MY LAST DRESS!
SKIPPER:
Aw, come on, Ginger I thought you have plenty of pretty dresses! Don’t you still have another?
GINGER:
No! That time when Mary Ann thought she was me, she cut up most of them to fit HER!
GILLIGAN:
Gee, that’s too bad, Ginger. Maybe you can buy a new one?
GINGER:
Where? There’s no place to spend money on this stupid island! Which reminds me, why do we let the Howells treat us like dirt, when their money doesn’t mean anything here?
SKIPPER:
Well, but - they’re RICH, Ginger!
GILLIGAN:
Yeah, they’re rich, Ginger!
GINGER:
Grrrr…. rage, rising…
GILLIGAN:
Anyways, I’m real sorry, Ginger! I wish we could get off the island, so I could take you shopping. It’s too bad the Minnow fell apart after we covered it in that glue the Professor made for us.
SKIPPER:
Yep. That was mostly my fault, little buddy - I put on too much of it.
GINGER:
And the Professor! If he’s so brilliant and educated, WHY CAN’T HE BUILD A SIMPLE RAFT?!!!
SKIPPER:
Well, but - he’s SMART, Ginger!
GILLIGAN:
Yeah, he’s smart, Ginger!
SKIPPER:
Remember how he made those spark plugs out of sea shells?
GINGER:
YOUR SHIP DIDN’T USE SPARK PLUGS, IT HAD A DIESEL ENGINE. HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW THAT?
SKIPPER:
Oh - didn’t it? Gee, Ginger, now that you mention it - I guess you’re right.
GINGER:
Flames… flames, on the side of my face...
GILLIGAN:
But Ginger, you make mistakes too! Remember how you helped that Eva Grubb lady become beautiful so she looked just like you, and she abandoned us and went home, and stole your movie star career forever?
GINGER:
ROOOAAAAAAWWWWRRR!!!!
GILLIGAN:
Uh-oh. I guess I’ve made you angry, huh?
GINGER:
GINGER SMASH!!!!
SKIPPER:
Aaaahh!!! Look out, little buddy! SHE HAS A BAMBOO MACHINE GUN!!!
GINGER:
YOU MUST ALL DIE!!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!
The SKIPPER and GILLIGAN recoil as an enraged GINGER aims. They all freeze in place.
NARRATOR:
Scary, huh? I’m getting chills!
Exit the SKIPPER, GILLIGAN, and GINGER
Well, this year we have something new and different. An epic tale of action and adventure; a gritty, fast-paced drama featuring a cast of millions! Of hundreds of millions! (No, really!)
This year, Capricornucopia is proud to present… THE GREAT ESCAPE!
Enter SARGE, ONE, X, Y
SARGE:
Alright, you mooks, listen up! Each of you gets one chance to get this right.
I know it’s cramped in here, with several hundred millions of us in this relatively small space - which could vary in volume from twelve cubic centimeters up to thirty cubic centimeters, but is an average of eighteen cubic centimeters in most adult human males - this small space shaped like an ellipsoid no longer than five centimeters along one axis, one centimeter in breadth, and two centimeters in height.
These conditions are inhumane, criminal - but I don’t want to hear any whining!
Sooner or later each of us is going to get our chance, and we have to be ready!
Y:
Sir yessir! But, what do we have to do? What’s the plan?
SARGE:
Good question, kid. What I need all of you to do is line up and get ready to go through the exit to the vas deferens, there (points to one end of stage). When I give the word, you swim for all you’re worth! Stop for nothing! Eventually, if you keep going, you’ll make it to the urethra.
After that, you’ll have a clear path out. You may even make it to… (reverently) the Egg.
ONE, X, Y:
(reverently, in awe) Ooooooo. The Egg.
X:
But, Sarge, isn’t the vas deferens supposed to be, like, thirty centimeters long?
SARGE:
So? What of it?
ONE:
But - we each measure an average of only fifty micrometers! We’ll never make it! It’s madness!
SARGE:
Snap out of it, kid! Stop that! None of that defeatist talk!
Y:
But sir, he’s right! Nobody has ever made it!
SARGE:
You don’t know that, dammit! You each have a chance to get out of here; but when that chance comes, it’s up to you, and only you. It is your responsibility. The biggest risk is a missed opportunity. Your only real obstacle is thinking you can't do it! Don't believe in your limits; believe in your strengths! You decide your own fate! There is no “I” in team! And one of you WILL make it to that Egg, dammit!
IS THAT CLEAR?!?!!
ONE, X, Y:
SIR-YESSIR!
SARGE:
Alright then. Get ready. Our moment could come at any time.
I’ll scout ahead - all of you, start warming up!
SARGE exits.
X and Y begin performing athletic warm-up exercises: stretches, bends, hip rotations, and so on.
ONE looks around, panicked, then gets a hold of himself and also begins warming up.
SARGE re-enters. The other characters snap to attention.
SARGE:
Okay, everyone, it looks like we're going to be launching. Better get ready.
I'll keep you all posted as intelligence comes in. You get your tails ready for action!
ONE, X, Y:
SIR-YESSIR!
SARGE leaves. The others resume warming up.
ONE nervously begins chatting.
ONE:
Wow. So, I guess this is it, huh? Great, isn't it!?
X and Y say nothing
ONE:
I have to admit, I'm kind of on edge, though. I mean, it's exciting, but we don't really know what to expect, do we! I don’t know if I can make it. We don't know anything for sure.
X:
I do. I know I'll be a girl.
Y:
Really? How do you know that?
X:
I have an X chromosome. That means I'll be a girl.
Y:
Oh yeah? What about me?
X looks him over.
X:
You're a boy.
X gives ONE the once-over too.
X:
You too.
ONE:
How can you tell?
X:
You each only have a Y chromosome, not an X.
You're boys, because you're missing the important dangly bit.
Y and ONE look down at their crotches, then look up. ONE is perturbed.
Y shrugs and continues warming up.
ONE:
(to X) Wow. You're pretty smart.
X:
Thanks.
ONE:
I bet you have a good chance of making it.
X:
Yeah. Thanks.
ONE:
(Pointing at Y) Or maybe that guy. Look at him. He's just so… strong looking.
I mean, the way he wiggles that tail…
X:
Well, hey, what am I, chopped liver?
ONE:
I only mean - look at him!
X:
You`re pretty fixated on his tail.
ONE:
Well, yeah, but… oh, God!
Does… does this mean I'm gay? I have heard it's partly genetic…
Y:
Uh, dude, I notice you're looking at my tail.
ONE:
No I'm not! I mean, I wasn't! I mean, I'm sorry! I mean, I don't mean anything!
(to himself) Oh God, I`m a genetic dead end…
SARGE enters.
SARGE:
Alright, soldiers, it`s show time!
Y:
What, already? (scoffs) It hasn't even been ten minutes yet!
X:
Poor woman.
ONE:
If it is a woman…
SARGE:
Line up, you maggots! You're up! Get ready to launch!
The other characters dash around, and line up with ONE in position nearest the exit, followed by Y, and X last.
SARGE exits.
ONE:
(aside) Wow! I can't believe it! I did it!
I have a head start on at least two! (looking back at X and Y, who are talking to each other in the background).
Now I just have to find some way of getting ahead of the others. And that's only... (looking offstage in other direction through the exit, seeing the line ahead of him) ...a few... hundred… million?
ONE pauses, dismayed.
ONE pulls himself together.
ONE:
It's okay. I can do this. I'll just... I'll challenge them to a contest of wits, one by one! That's it. If I can beat someone ahead of me in a battle of wits, they have to switch places with me, and I’ll have a better chance!
Silently in the background, X and Y finish their exchange, and Y reluctantly trades places with X.
X:
(as she moves up beside ONE)
I agree! I challenge you to a battle of wits.
ONE:
Oh! Um, I don't know...
X:
Oh, come on! Be fair. If you want to challenge others, you have to accept challenges too.
ONE:
Well...
X:
Look. I'll ask you five questions. To win, you just have to answer all of them with a lie. Any lie.
But if you answer any one of them with the truth, you lose. Sound fair?
ONE:
That doesn't sound so bad. Okay, I accept.
X:
Good! Okay then. Are you ready?
ONE:
(Is about to say yes, then realizes he has to lie)
Yehhh - NO !
X:
Ah, you're clever. (quickly) Are you an X or a Y?
ONE:
I'm an X!
X:
What's ten divided by two?
ONE:
Um... thirteen!
X:
Darn, you're good. I'm afraid you're going to win! (counts on fingers) Oh, and now I've lost track - is this next one my last question, or do I get another after that?
ONE:
(counts on fingers)
That was just three, so you get two more.
X:
AHA!
ONE:
What?
X:
That was my fourth question! And you answered it truthfully!
ONE:
But...
(realizes that she's right)
DAMMIT!
ONE reluctantly switches places with X
Y:
(to ONE as he comes up alongside Y)
Hey, I challenge you to a battle of wits!
ONE:
Oh, great.
Y:
I'll ask you five questions, and you have to answer each of them with a lie...
ONE:
Yes, fine, I accept.
Y:
Okay. Ready?
ONE:
No!
Y:
Hmmm. Okay - are you an X or a Y?
ONE:
I'm an X!
Y:
What's three plus five?
ONE:
Sixty!
Y:
(counts on fingers, pretending)
Darn, I've lost track - how many more questions do I get?
ONE:
(triumphantly) FIVE HUNDRED!
Y:
DAMMIT! You were supposed to say two.
ONE:
Ha! Gotcha.
Y:
Hmmph. You’re too clever for me. (suspiciously) Say, did you figure out the trick all on your own?
ONE:
Well, no, the X already used it on me.
Y:
AHA!
ONE:
What?
Y:
That was my fifth question! And you answered it truthfully!
ONE:
What? No!
(counts on his fingers, realizes that Y is right)
DAMMIT!
ONE reluctantly switches places with Y.
ONE:
(to himself) Argh! Okay, don't lose hope. It's okay. It's okay. I'll just have to figure out something else.
I know - when all else fails, beg!
(turns to X and Y) Um… guys. You both have much better chances than I do.
I mean, you (to X) are so smart, and you (to Y, who looks at him suspiciously) are so strong.
So… would you mind, you know, letting me ahead of you? So I can get a bit of a head start? Please?
X and Y:
Not a chance.
Before ONE can plead further, SARGE interrupts.
SARGE:
(yelling from offstage) Alright you maggots, it’s showtime!
What, you potential hairless apes, ya wanna live forever? Go go go! One, two, three…
ONE:
Oh, no! It’s too late! I’ll never make it now! I’m doomed!
SARGE:
(from offstage)…hundred thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight…
SARGE enters, goes over to X
Four hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine…
SARGE gives X a gentle push. X runs offstage determinedly.
SARGE goes over to Y.
SARGE (cont’d):
Five hundred million.
SARGE gives a gentle push to Y, who also runs offstage.
ONE begins to run offstage next, but is stopped by SARGE.
SARGE:
Whoa! Where do you think you're going?
ONE:
Well, I am next, aren't I? Five hundred million and one?
SARGE:
Nope. He (indicating where Y left) was the last one for this time.
Five hundred million is the limit. You just missed the cutoff.
ONE:
(non-plussed, unsure whether to be annoyed or relieved)
Oh. Well. That seems… anticlimactic.
SARGE:
For you, maybe.
Ah, cheer up, kid. You’ll get a chance to escape some day. And the count starts all over again next time, so you'll be right at the front. You'll be number one.
ONE:
Next time I get to be right at the front of the line? (overjoyed) Really?
SARGE:
Yep. Pole position!
ONE:
Well, that - that's great!
SARGE:
Yep.
It isn't a guarantee you'll make it out, much less make it to the Egg next time, mind.
ONE:
No, no, of course not.
SARGE:
There are still going to be four hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine others going for the same goal at the same time.
ONE:
Oh, yes, I know. I won't get cocky, I promise. Still - this really improves my odds!
So… when is the next time, exactly? When do I get my chance?
SARGE:
I don't know, kid. Nobody knows.
You just have to be ready whenever it comes.
SARGE leaves.
ONE:
(calling offstage after SARGE) I will! I will be ready! Thank you!
(to himself) Wow. WOW! I really have a shot at it!
Next time. Whenever that might be.
ONE addresses the audience.
You only get one chance at life.
It's up to you to make the most of that chance.
You need to have confidence. You need to have faith.
You need to know that, one day, your opportunity will come.
I know mine will. And I know I'll make the most of it.
Because even though I’m not in complete control - even though I sometimes feel that everyone else is smarter, or stronger than I am - luck and guts are a part of it too. And I have those. So I know I can do it.
I can make it to my goal. I can get out, and be the first one to reach that Egg!
Then, my life can begin.
Then, the hardest part is over.
ONE exits. NARRATOR enters
NARRATOR:
And there you have it - The Great Escape!
Be sure to join us next year for the exciting sequel - “You’ve Got Male”!
Enter DOCTOR, ONE
ONE:
(as a baby) Waaaaah! Waaaah!
DOCTOR:
(to audience) Congrautlations - it’s a boy!
Exit DOCTOR, ONE
NARRATOR:
And so, until next time, this is Capricornucopia Cinema, signing off!
Thank you, and good night!
THE END
This is long, long overdue - but I do want to post it before the end of the year. Our theme this time was to take established titles and write something completely different - for example, "Jaws" as a feud between rival dentists. As always, it was monumentally silly.
So, at long last, here's my humble offering from this past year's Capricornucopia:
THE GREAT ESCAPE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE:
NARRATOR
CAT
SKIPPER
GILLIGAN
GINGER
SARGE
ONE
X
Y
DOCTOR
NARRATOR:
Greetings, everyone, and welcome to Capricornucopia Cinema! Tonight we have a special treat for you.
In the past you’ve seen us present many exciting works of theatre.
We’ve brought you heart-rending dramas, like Cat On A Hot Tin Roof…
The CAT begins to walk across the stage
CAT:
Meow. Meow. Meow.
The CAT reaches the hot tin roof (midstage) and keeps walking.
Meow. Meow. (quickly) Meow-meow-meow-hothothot-ow-meow-meow-ouch-meow-meow.
The CAT reaches the other side of the stage. He blows on his paws, then continues walking offstage.
Meow. Meow. Meow.
NARRATOR:
Then, we brought you a tale of gore and bloody horror - “Ginger Snaps”
Enter SKIPPER, GILLIGAN, and GINGER.
SKIPPER:
GIL-LI-GAN!!!
GILLIGAN:
Gee, Skipper, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to spill all that coconut milk. Sorry, Ginger!
GINGER:
Oh, no! My last dress! MY LAST DRESS!
SKIPPER:
Aw, come on, Ginger I thought you have plenty of pretty dresses! Don’t you still have another?
GINGER:
No! That time when Mary Ann thought she was me, she cut up most of them to fit HER!
GILLIGAN:
Gee, that’s too bad, Ginger. Maybe you can buy a new one?
GINGER:
Where? There’s no place to spend money on this stupid island! Which reminds me, why do we let the Howells treat us like dirt, when their money doesn’t mean anything here?
SKIPPER:
Well, but - they’re RICH, Ginger!
GILLIGAN:
Yeah, they’re rich, Ginger!
GINGER:
Grrrr…. rage, rising…
GILLIGAN:
Anyways, I’m real sorry, Ginger! I wish we could get off the island, so I could take you shopping. It’s too bad the Minnow fell apart after we covered it in that glue the Professor made for us.
SKIPPER:
Yep. That was mostly my fault, little buddy - I put on too much of it.
GINGER:
And the Professor! If he’s so brilliant and educated, WHY CAN’T HE BUILD A SIMPLE RAFT?!!!
SKIPPER:
Well, but - he’s SMART, Ginger!
GILLIGAN:
Yeah, he’s smart, Ginger!
SKIPPER:
Remember how he made those spark plugs out of sea shells?
GINGER:
YOUR SHIP DIDN’T USE SPARK PLUGS, IT HAD A DIESEL ENGINE. HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW THAT?
SKIPPER:
Oh - didn’t it? Gee, Ginger, now that you mention it - I guess you’re right.
GINGER:
Flames… flames, on the side of my face...
GILLIGAN:
But Ginger, you make mistakes too! Remember how you helped that Eva Grubb lady become beautiful so she looked just like you, and she abandoned us and went home, and stole your movie star career forever?
GINGER:
ROOOAAAAAAWWWWRRR!!!!
GILLIGAN:
Uh-oh. I guess I’ve made you angry, huh?
GINGER:
GINGER SMASH!!!!
SKIPPER:
Aaaahh!!! Look out, little buddy! SHE HAS A BAMBOO MACHINE GUN!!!
GINGER:
YOU MUST ALL DIE!!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE!!!
The SKIPPER and GILLIGAN recoil as an enraged GINGER aims. They all freeze in place.
NARRATOR:
Scary, huh? I’m getting chills!
Exit the SKIPPER, GILLIGAN, and GINGER
Well, this year we have something new and different. An epic tale of action and adventure; a gritty, fast-paced drama featuring a cast of millions! Of hundreds of millions! (No, really!)
This year, Capricornucopia is proud to present… THE GREAT ESCAPE!
Enter SARGE, ONE, X, Y
SARGE:
Alright, you mooks, listen up! Each of you gets one chance to get this right.
I know it’s cramped in here, with several hundred millions of us in this relatively small space - which could vary in volume from twelve cubic centimeters up to thirty cubic centimeters, but is an average of eighteen cubic centimeters in most adult human males - this small space shaped like an ellipsoid no longer than five centimeters along one axis, one centimeter in breadth, and two centimeters in height.
These conditions are inhumane, criminal - but I don’t want to hear any whining!
Sooner or later each of us is going to get our chance, and we have to be ready!
Y:
Sir yessir! But, what do we have to do? What’s the plan?
SARGE:
Good question, kid. What I need all of you to do is line up and get ready to go through the exit to the vas deferens, there (points to one end of stage). When I give the word, you swim for all you’re worth! Stop for nothing! Eventually, if you keep going, you’ll make it to the urethra.
After that, you’ll have a clear path out. You may even make it to… (reverently) the Egg.
ONE, X, Y:
(reverently, in awe) Ooooooo. The Egg.
X:
But, Sarge, isn’t the vas deferens supposed to be, like, thirty centimeters long?
SARGE:
So? What of it?
ONE:
But - we each measure an average of only fifty micrometers! We’ll never make it! It’s madness!
SARGE:
Snap out of it, kid! Stop that! None of that defeatist talk!
Y:
But sir, he’s right! Nobody has ever made it!
SARGE:
You don’t know that, dammit! You each have a chance to get out of here; but when that chance comes, it’s up to you, and only you. It is your responsibility. The biggest risk is a missed opportunity. Your only real obstacle is thinking you can't do it! Don't believe in your limits; believe in your strengths! You decide your own fate! There is no “I” in team! And one of you WILL make it to that Egg, dammit!
IS THAT CLEAR?!?!!
ONE, X, Y:
SIR-YESSIR!
SARGE:
Alright then. Get ready. Our moment could come at any time.
I’ll scout ahead - all of you, start warming up!
SARGE exits.
X and Y begin performing athletic warm-up exercises: stretches, bends, hip rotations, and so on.
ONE looks around, panicked, then gets a hold of himself and also begins warming up.
SARGE re-enters. The other characters snap to attention.
SARGE:
Okay, everyone, it looks like we're going to be launching. Better get ready.
I'll keep you all posted as intelligence comes in. You get your tails ready for action!
ONE, X, Y:
SIR-YESSIR!
SARGE leaves. The others resume warming up.
ONE nervously begins chatting.
ONE:
Wow. So, I guess this is it, huh? Great, isn't it!?
X and Y say nothing
ONE:
I have to admit, I'm kind of on edge, though. I mean, it's exciting, but we don't really know what to expect, do we! I don’t know if I can make it. We don't know anything for sure.
X:
I do. I know I'll be a girl.
Y:
Really? How do you know that?
X:
I have an X chromosome. That means I'll be a girl.
Y:
Oh yeah? What about me?
X looks him over.
X:
You're a boy.
X gives ONE the once-over too.
X:
You too.
ONE:
How can you tell?
X:
You each only have a Y chromosome, not an X.
You're boys, because you're missing the important dangly bit.
Y and ONE look down at their crotches, then look up. ONE is perturbed.
Y shrugs and continues warming up.
ONE:
(to X) Wow. You're pretty smart.
X:
Thanks.
ONE:
I bet you have a good chance of making it.
X:
Yeah. Thanks.
ONE:
(Pointing at Y) Or maybe that guy. Look at him. He's just so… strong looking.
I mean, the way he wiggles that tail…
X:
Well, hey, what am I, chopped liver?
ONE:
I only mean - look at him!
X:
You`re pretty fixated on his tail.
ONE:
Well, yeah, but… oh, God!
Does… does this mean I'm gay? I have heard it's partly genetic…
Y:
Uh, dude, I notice you're looking at my tail.
ONE:
No I'm not! I mean, I wasn't! I mean, I'm sorry! I mean, I don't mean anything!
(to himself) Oh God, I`m a genetic dead end…
SARGE enters.
SARGE:
Alright, soldiers, it`s show time!
Y:
What, already? (scoffs) It hasn't even been ten minutes yet!
X:
Poor woman.
ONE:
If it is a woman…
SARGE:
Line up, you maggots! You're up! Get ready to launch!
The other characters dash around, and line up with ONE in position nearest the exit, followed by Y, and X last.
SARGE exits.
ONE:
(aside) Wow! I can't believe it! I did it!
I have a head start on at least two! (looking back at X and Y, who are talking to each other in the background).
Now I just have to find some way of getting ahead of the others. And that's only... (looking offstage in other direction through the exit, seeing the line ahead of him) ...a few... hundred… million?
ONE pauses, dismayed.
ONE pulls himself together.
ONE:
It's okay. I can do this. I'll just... I'll challenge them to a contest of wits, one by one! That's it. If I can beat someone ahead of me in a battle of wits, they have to switch places with me, and I’ll have a better chance!
Silently in the background, X and Y finish their exchange, and Y reluctantly trades places with X.
X:
(as she moves up beside ONE)
I agree! I challenge you to a battle of wits.
ONE:
Oh! Um, I don't know...
X:
Oh, come on! Be fair. If you want to challenge others, you have to accept challenges too.
ONE:
Well...
X:
Look. I'll ask you five questions. To win, you just have to answer all of them with a lie. Any lie.
But if you answer any one of them with the truth, you lose. Sound fair?
ONE:
That doesn't sound so bad. Okay, I accept.
X:
Good! Okay then. Are you ready?
ONE:
(Is about to say yes, then realizes he has to lie)
Yehhh - NO !
X:
Ah, you're clever. (quickly) Are you an X or a Y?
ONE:
I'm an X!
X:
What's ten divided by two?
ONE:
Um... thirteen!
X:
Darn, you're good. I'm afraid you're going to win! (counts on fingers) Oh, and now I've lost track - is this next one my last question, or do I get another after that?
ONE:
(counts on fingers)
That was just three, so you get two more.
X:
AHA!
ONE:
What?
X:
That was my fourth question! And you answered it truthfully!
ONE:
But...
(realizes that she's right)
DAMMIT!
ONE reluctantly switches places with X
Y:
(to ONE as he comes up alongside Y)
Hey, I challenge you to a battle of wits!
ONE:
Oh, great.
Y:
I'll ask you five questions, and you have to answer each of them with a lie...
ONE:
Yes, fine, I accept.
Y:
Okay. Ready?
ONE:
No!
Y:
Hmmm. Okay - are you an X or a Y?
ONE:
I'm an X!
Y:
What's three plus five?
ONE:
Sixty!
Y:
(counts on fingers, pretending)
Darn, I've lost track - how many more questions do I get?
ONE:
(triumphantly) FIVE HUNDRED!
Y:
DAMMIT! You were supposed to say two.
ONE:
Ha! Gotcha.
Y:
Hmmph. You’re too clever for me. (suspiciously) Say, did you figure out the trick all on your own?
ONE:
Well, no, the X already used it on me.
Y:
AHA!
ONE:
What?
Y:
That was my fifth question! And you answered it truthfully!
ONE:
What? No!
(counts on his fingers, realizes that Y is right)
DAMMIT!
ONE reluctantly switches places with Y.
ONE:
(to himself) Argh! Okay, don't lose hope. It's okay. It's okay. I'll just have to figure out something else.
I know - when all else fails, beg!
(turns to X and Y) Um… guys. You both have much better chances than I do.
I mean, you (to X) are so smart, and you (to Y, who looks at him suspiciously) are so strong.
So… would you mind, you know, letting me ahead of you? So I can get a bit of a head start? Please?
X and Y:
Not a chance.
Before ONE can plead further, SARGE interrupts.
SARGE:
(yelling from offstage) Alright you maggots, it’s showtime!
What, you potential hairless apes, ya wanna live forever? Go go go! One, two, three…
ONE:
Oh, no! It’s too late! I’ll never make it now! I’m doomed!
SARGE:
(from offstage)…hundred thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight…
SARGE enters, goes over to X
Four hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine…
SARGE gives X a gentle push. X runs offstage determinedly.
SARGE goes over to Y.
SARGE (cont’d):
Five hundred million.
SARGE gives a gentle push to Y, who also runs offstage.
ONE begins to run offstage next, but is stopped by SARGE.
SARGE:
Whoa! Where do you think you're going?
ONE:
Well, I am next, aren't I? Five hundred million and one?
SARGE:
Nope. He (indicating where Y left) was the last one for this time.
Five hundred million is the limit. You just missed the cutoff.
ONE:
(non-plussed, unsure whether to be annoyed or relieved)
Oh. Well. That seems… anticlimactic.
SARGE:
For you, maybe.
Ah, cheer up, kid. You’ll get a chance to escape some day. And the count starts all over again next time, so you'll be right at the front. You'll be number one.
ONE:
Next time I get to be right at the front of the line? (overjoyed) Really?
SARGE:
Yep. Pole position!
ONE:
Well, that - that's great!
SARGE:
Yep.
It isn't a guarantee you'll make it out, much less make it to the Egg next time, mind.
ONE:
No, no, of course not.
SARGE:
There are still going to be four hundred and ninety-nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine others going for the same goal at the same time.
ONE:
Oh, yes, I know. I won't get cocky, I promise. Still - this really improves my odds!
So… when is the next time, exactly? When do I get my chance?
SARGE:
I don't know, kid. Nobody knows.
You just have to be ready whenever it comes.
SARGE leaves.
ONE:
(calling offstage after SARGE) I will! I will be ready! Thank you!
(to himself) Wow. WOW! I really have a shot at it!
Next time. Whenever that might be.
ONE addresses the audience.
You only get one chance at life.
It's up to you to make the most of that chance.
You need to have confidence. You need to have faith.
You need to know that, one day, your opportunity will come.
I know mine will. And I know I'll make the most of it.
Because even though I’m not in complete control - even though I sometimes feel that everyone else is smarter, or stronger than I am - luck and guts are a part of it too. And I have those. So I know I can do it.
I can make it to my goal. I can get out, and be the first one to reach that Egg!
Then, my life can begin.
Then, the hardest part is over.
ONE exits. NARRATOR enters
NARRATOR:
And there you have it - The Great Escape!
Be sure to join us next year for the exciting sequel - “You’ve Got Male”!
Enter DOCTOR, ONE
ONE:
(as a baby) Waaaaah! Waaaah!
DOCTOR:
(to audience) Congrautlations - it’s a boy!
Exit DOCTOR, ONE
NARRATOR:
And so, until next time, this is Capricornucopia Cinema, signing off!
Thank you, and good night!
THE END