Hello!
I understand that most of you come around for things more magically inclined but it’s May Day and I didn’t want to let that pass by without marking it in some way. I know a lot of you out there are celebrating Walpurgisnacht but for some of us today is also about remembering the battles and sacrifices made by workers in an attempt to make our jobs a little bit better.
For this International Workers Day I present Boundless Loyalty to Our Faceless Masters, a little play I wrote five years ago about working and being angry about the sad state of labor. It was originally published through Outlet Press but has been out of print for a while now.
If this isn’t your kind of thing you can feel free to skip this one. I promise I won’t be offended.
SCENE 1
Interior-Break Room
The break room is small, large enough to accommodate 3 small tables, a vending machine, and a kitchenette with a coffee maker and microwave. The room is messy. There are puddles of coffee and food debris scattered across the brown linoleum floor, tables, and countertops. Dirty dishes are piled high in the sink. There are three doors. One leads outside, another to the locker room, and the last leads to the shop floor.
Music plays at low volume from a loudspeaker in the center of the water stain mottled ceiling and a large television hangs in the corner of the room, showing a muted and innocuous sports game.
JOHN enters through the door leading outside. He wears a dingy tan jacket and torn jeans. He slowly takes off his jacket and hangs it on a hook by the door.
JOHN is in his early to mid thirties, slightly overweight, and balding. He walks slowly with his shoulders hunched down. He looks tired, defeated. JOHN goes into the locker room and begins to put on his uniform. The uniform consists of a light brown button up shirt and navy blue slacks. JOHN is on automatic pilot. His eyes are blank and he puts his pants and shirt on as if he has done it a million times before.
JOHN looks around the break room. He notices no one else is there. JOHN is confused. JOHN stands for a beat, puts his hands on his hips and looks toward the ceiling, then toward the floor.
JOHN: (grunting) Hmmph...
JOHN looks in the locker room. It’s empty. He opens the door to the shop and scans for others. Still no one.
JOHN: (grunting) Hmmph…
A mumbling can be heard but not understood. It piques JOHN’s interest and he walks around the break room, trying to figure out where it is coming from. He finds the source which is an intercom speaker centered over the middle table. JOHN climbs on top of the table and cranes his neck, positioning his ear so it is pointing toward the speaker.
Suddenly, a loud blast of white noise screams from the speaker. JOHN is taken by surprise and loses his footing as the tabletop breaks and tips off its base. He hits the ground with a deep thud.
JOHN: Fuck!
JOHN sits up and rubs the back of his head. The white noise adjusts and lowers slowly. There are two electronic clicks.
VOICE: (from intercom speaker) Good morning, employee! How are you doing this morning?
JOHN continues rubbing his head.
JOHN: I think I’ll be…
VOICE: (interrupting JOHN) Good! Good! You may have noticed some changes in your work area today. This is just the beginning of our new procedure.
JOHN: New procedure?
VOICE: Yes, yes! New procedure. We’ve been getting some reports about the overall attitude and morale of your location. These reports are a bit short of expectations and The Company would like to evaluate whether or not the team is ready for our big rollout.
JOHN: Rollout?
VOICE: Yes, yes! The Company has been putting a lot of work into some new procedures and it is very important that these things integrate smoothly. We just simply cannot afford any snags at this time! Can we count on your help today, employee?
JOHN: (confused) Yes?
VOICE: Good, good! Now, please, take your seat. We will get started momentarily.
SCENE 2
JOHN sits at the first table, fidgeting. The debris of the broken table is strewn through the room.
VOICE: Please, take your seat!
JOHN: I’ve been waiting here for over an hour! What’s going on?
VOICE: (a little louder) Please, take your seat!
JOHN: What’s going on here? Where is everyone?
VOICE: (a little louder) Please, talk your seat!
JOHN: It’s been a fucking hour! You have to tell me something!
JOHN stands up and starts pacing the room. He kicks some pieces of wood and they bounce quietly off the wall. He tries the door leading outside. It’s locked. He then tries the door to the shop. It is also locked tight.
JOHN: What the fuck is going on? You can’t keep me here!
VOICE: (volume loud enough to distort voice) TAKE YOUR SEAT.
JOHN flagellates around the room violently. He knocks over three chairs and pulls the microwave off the counter of the kitchenette. JOHN pulls back to punch the glass of the vending machine when it lurches toward him and lets out a mechanical screech. JOHN stumbles and falls back against the wall. The vending machine continues toward him, taking small, violent bounces in his direction. The vending door snaps open and shut like a mouth.
JOHN: What is… What the fuck is this? What the fuck is going on?
JOHN tries to scramble further away but gets nowhere. His feet slip on the tile in front of him and he twists against the wall.
VOICE: Take your seat. Please.
The vending machine continues toward JOHN until it reaches the end of its electric cord. It pulls against the cord for a moment and then stops. It makes bounces along a small arc just within the range of the cord, as if it were a leash.
VOICE: Take your seat.
JOHN: Only if that… that fucking... THING backs off.
VOICE: Please, take your seat.
JOHN slowly stands up, giving the vending machine a wide berth. He makes his way to one of the few seats left upright and sits down. JOHN burries his face in his hands, glancing up at the vending machine every few seconds.
VOICE: It will be just a few more moments before we can get started. Please, be patient.
SCENE 3
JOHN sits at the table, slowly nodding off. He catches himself just as he falls asleep, jerking his head up and staring directly at the vending machine. The television is showing the movie “The Great Escape.”
The door leading from the shop opens and MANAGER enters.
MANAGER is between 40-50 years old, slightly overweight and has long blonde-brown hair that is growing thin at the peak. He walks with his chest puffed out and his shoulders back, exuding a professional confidence. He carries leather briefcase in his left hand.
MANAGER: Good morning! G-g-g-g-g-g-g-good M-m-m-morning!
JOHN: ...good morning?
MANAGER: How is your day going s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-so far...
MANAGER scans JOHN’s uniform for his nametag. He finds it on JOHN’s chest and stares at it.
MANAGER: J-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-john?
JOHN: What’s go-
MANAGER interrupts JOHN mid-word
MANAGER: Let’s get s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-started shall we? You’ve been told about the changes to our procedure, yes?
JOHN: Yeah…
MANAGER: W-w-w-well… Well, I’m here to outline what exactly that entails for you, in your-your-your position. I’ve brought the manual f-f-f-for you.
MANAGER opens the briefcase and pull out a stack of papers. He taps them on the table 3 times sharply to straighten them and then hands the stack to JOHN. JOHN looks at the top page and then looks at MANANGER. JOHN looks back down at the paper. He takes the cover page off and sets it on the table. He pauses for only a moment and then puts that page on top of the other he had taken off previously. JOHN then picks up the entire stack and flips through it quickly.
JOHN: These pages are all blank…
MANAGER: As you can see, everything is explained in g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-great detail. Nothing left to chance! These changes will change everything about your career here. Can I just ask you something, J-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-john?
JOHN says nothing and stares at the tabletop absently
MANAGER: Where do you see yourself in the next year?
MANAGER pauses for a beat. His head twitches three times before resting at slight crook
MANAGER: I remember w-w-w-w-w-when-when-when-n-n-n-n-n-n-n I first started here. I felt pretty l-l-l-l-l-l-lost. Then The Company showed me the way! It’s all in the book!
VOICE: You seem to be getting off track…
MANAGER: My supervisor at the time, I think his n-n-n-n-n-name was Albert-t-t-t-t-t, took me under his wing and made me feel my own potential. S-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-some days, we would just walk the floor and he would tell me where each and ev-ev-ev-ev-every process fit into the grand s-s-s-s-sch-scheme.
MANAGER rambles on without interruption.
JOHN: (exasperated) I just want to know what’s going on…
VOICE: Sorry about that. It appears we’ve got some bugs to work out.
MANAGER: Albert knew all about the entire process. He lifted the curtain and showed me how the g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-gears turned and how to row the boat and how-how-how the early bird always got the bush in the st-st-st-s-stone. It’s all ab-ab-ab-about efficient exec-execution-on-on of all processes and procedures.
VOICE: This should just take a moment…
MANAGER continues to trail on. A small door opens from the ceiling and swings on squeaky hinges. Three small, metallic tendrils begin to emerge from the opening, twisting and rolling for a few seconds before making their way toward MANAGER.
MANAGER: We’ve got a great team here, and I’m not saying that we need to make changes, but we need to make changes and those changes don’t change the f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fact that we are on the t-t-t-t-t-t-t-track here with our team. We’ve got efficient ex-ex-ex-ex-execute-execution of all our f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-func-func-functions and the ch-ch-ch-ch-changes only ref-reflect this.
The tendrils probe around MANAGER’s scalp for a few moment before stabbing into the skin near his temples. MANAGER stops forming words and begins to scream. The scream continues on without MANAGER taking a breath. The top of MANAGER’s head opens, revealing that MANAGER’s skull is filled with oily rags and banana peels. For a few moments the voice of MANAGER modulates like an electronic synthesizer, going up and down octaves.
VOICE: ...a moment. This should just take a moment.
VOICE repeats the phrase over and over. The voices of both VOICE and MANAGER begin to sync up, sounding almost alike. They begin saying the phrase together.
MANAGER/VOICE: (in unison) This should just take a moment...
SCENE 4
JOHN stands at the door leading to the shop, trying to get it open. He pounds his fist near the handle, swears under his breath, and shakes the door. The television is now showing a low budget wrestling show. The tendrils prod around the pile of garbage in MANAGER’s head. MANAGER and VOICE now only speak in unison, as they have interfaced together.
MANAGER/VOICE: Just a moment. This should only take a moment.
JOHN: Why. Won’t. You. Let. Me. Out?
JOHN punctuates between each word with a pound of his fist against the door.
MANAGER/VOICE: I feel… I feel… I just feel so confused. I wish Albert was here. Albert had all the answers. Just a moment. Just a moment. Just a m-m-m-m-m-m-moment.
The door leading outside swings open violently. Three men storm in, fighting like a pack of wild dogs. The three men are between 20-25 years old and all are wearing their work uniforms. A small burlap sack that changes hands between them as they fight. JOHN lunges toward the door but is caught in the tangle of arms.
JOHN: (shouting) Hold the door!
JOHN keeps trying to make his way to the door as it slowly shuts behind the 3 men.
JOHN: (shouting, louder) Hold the fucking door!
The door shuts and latches with an audible click. The three men toss JOHN back and he lands on his side with a loud thud. The fight moves to the other side of the room. The vending machine screeches and struggles against its electric cord leash as the men pass, trying hard to get them as they get near. JOHN scrambles back to his feet and pounds on the door frantically. He lets out a guttural yell at the door and clenches his fists.
JOHN: (defeated) Hold the fucking door…
MANAGER/VOICE: Just a moment… Just one moment… Can’t the children just behave themselves? Just one moment… Albert… Where’s Albert…
The three men continue to fight. Their faces begin to get bruised and bloody. One of the men holds his broken arm, with bone jutting out from the flesh and meat, and growls. Another spits blood into the eyes of the third who then slams his fist into the spitters cheek. The sack they had been fighting over slides across the floor and stops at JOHN’s feet. He bends over, picks it up, and inspects it for a moment. He unties the knot sealing the bag and opens it. He smells what’s inside. He looks over at MANAGER.
JOHN: Dog biscuits? This thing is filled with dog bisuits?
MANAGER/VOICE: Basic rewards stimulate subordinates toward efficient productivity. Albert always said that any dog will roll over for the right treat. Any dog. Albert always said. Do you want a treat? Do you want a treat, boy?
JOHN: I’m not hungry.
MANAGER/VOICE: Sure you are. Everyone is hungry. Albert always said. Everyone is hungry. All you have to do is find the right treat and you’ll be doing tricks all night. Do you want a treat, boy?
JOHN: ...not hungry.
The fight on the other side of the room continues. One of the men is on the ground, his head caved in and bleeding, his right eye hanging out of the socket, resting on the floor. The other two are covered in blood and shit as they roll around.
JOHN: They don’t even know… Do they?
MANAGER/VOICE: Albert always said. Albert ALWAYS said.
The fight is almost finished. One of the men holds the other in a headlock. The man in the hold struggles and grunts. The other man squeezes tighter and tighter until a loud pop is heard. The man in the hold goes limp and is dropped. His body hits the floor, limp like a ragdoll. The man looks around. He looks tired and one of his eyes has swelled shut. He sees the sack of treats in JOHN’s hand and limps toward him, growling. JOHN tosses the sack to the beaten man. It bounces off his chest and lands on the floor. The man drops to all fours and feverously rips the sack open.
MANAGER/VOICE: Albert always said.
The man curls up on the floor. His breathing is shallow and weak. He takes out a handful of dog biscuits and has difficulty pushing them past his swollen lips. All of his teeth have been knocked out. He groans as he tries to chew with raw gums. Blood and spit dribbles from his bottom lip.
SCENE 5
JOHN picks his fingernails until one of them begins to crack and separate. It bleeds a couple tiny drops. JOHN puts the finger in his mouth and sucks at it, trying make it stop bleeding. He taps his right toe nervously. The television shows a tabernacle choir wearing blue robes dances while a priest gesticulates in front of them. MANAGER stares off in the distance, his head twitching every few seconds. His mouth goes from smiling to slack with each twitch. He remains tethered to the ceiling by metal tendrils. The vending machine tugs at its electric cord leash, trying to get to the surviving fighter.
JOHN: How much longer? How much longer are you going to keep me here?
MANAGER/VOICE: Just a few moments. It will be just a few more moments. Albert should know. Albert always knew. The procedure will be all encompassing. The procedure is new and all encompassing. Albert said. Albert always said…
While MANAGER/VOICE ramble on, JOHN starts to get out of his chair. MANAGER/VOICE does not notice at first, continuing to stare off in the distance. Then, slowly, their head turns and MANAGER/VOICE stares at JOHN for a second. He stops talking. His mouth tightens shut.
MANAGER/VOICE: (yelling)TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT…
MANAGER/VOICE yell this, over and over, until JOHN sits back down. JOHN begins picking his fingernails again.
JOHN: Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?
JOHN slams his fist on the table. MANAGER/VOICE does not react. His head slowly turns away again and stares blankly toward the wall.
JOHN: (yelling) What did I do? What the fuck did I do? Was I not working hard enough? Was I breaking the fucking rules? Where do you fucking get off? I put in the overtime. I put in the extra days. What did I fucking do to you?
MANAGER/VOICE: The new procedure is very comprehensive. You’ll see. You’ll see. The new procedure is very comprehensive. The new procedure will answer all your questions. Albert said. The new procedure has been formulated and approved to answer everything. Albert always said.
JOHN: (still yelling) What are you talking about? I don’t understand what is going on! Who’s Albert?
JOHN jumps out of his seat and grabs MANAGER/VOICE by the collar and starts shaking him.
MANAGER/VOICE: (without stopping) TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR...
JOHN: WHAT IS GOING…
Through the door leading outside enters 3 people wearing light brown hooded robes with a thick band of navy blue silk draped over their shoulders. The silk has light brown embroidery running down the center, of runes and sigils that are unrecognizable. The last man through the door slams it shut behind him. They stand motionless with their hoods completely hiding their faces, making their gender and identity unknown.
MANAGER/VOICE: (continuing from earlier) SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT
JOHN’s hands drop limp from MANAGER/VOICE’s collar. He watches the robed people walk with slow, measured steps around the tables, toward the dead bodies.
JOHN: (still yelling) WHAT IS GOING ON! WHO ARE YOU? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
The first robed person pulls a knife from beneath their robe and kneels down beside the surviving fighter on the floor. Gently, the robed person lifts the head and slits the body’s throat from ear to ear. Blood pours all over the floor while the fighter weakly twitches and struggles. The robed person waves one of the others over, demanding a hastened approach. The fighter stops moving. The fighter stops breathing. He is now dead. The person searches the kitchenette until they find a cabinet filled with red SOLO cups. He pulls three down and brings them to the bloodletter. He catches as much blood in the first cup as he can. Once full, he gives it to one of the other robed figures and starts to fill the next. Once all three have full cups, the first robed figure stands and joins the others.
MANAGER/VOICE: (continuing from earlier) TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR
JOHN drops to his knees and pounds the floor with his fist. The three robed figures separate, each of them walking to an open wall.
JOHN: (voice is hoarse and quiet, nearly a whisper) Why won’t anyone tell me what’s going on?
The robed figures use their fingers to paint sigils all over the walls with blood from the cups. They moved quickly, splattering blood everywhere. Outside, chanting can be heard in the distance. The language is nothing of our earthly realm.
MANAGER/VOICE: (continuing from earlier) SEAT TAKE YOUR SEAT TAKE YOUR… TAKE YOUR… ALBERT? CAN YOU HEAR ME, ALBERT?
MANAGER/VOICE lets out a frightened cry and then goes quiet. He stands up and walks toward the door leading outside. The tendrils attaching his head to the ceiling quiver and strain but stay connected. MANAGER/VOICE stares at JOHN.
MANAGER/VOICE: Please, take your seat. We are about to get started.
JOHN: (quietly) What’s going on?
SCENE 6
JOHN sits cross legged on the floor, resting his head in his hands. The robed figures continue painting runic symbols on the walls. MANAGER/VOICE remains by the door in silent vigil. There is only an undulating test pattern on the television now. The vending machine paces, back and forth. It has given up on the getting the the bodies on the floor and now just hopes for release from its leash. The chants outside grow louder and have been joined by drumming. It sounds deep, like a heartbeat. The ground quivers and the crack around the door leading outside begins to glow white. JOHN puts his hands on his ears.
JOHN: What is that?
JOHN groans and begins twisting in pain, holding his hands flat against the sides of his head and rocking forward and back. Blood leaks from his ears and runs down his face in thin red streams. The room goes dark.
JOHN: So much… pressure…
The door opens and the room throbs. White-blue light fills the room and strobes inconsistently. The cheering outside has been drowned out by the white noise hiss of an off channel television turned up too loud. JOHN groans louder.
MANAGER/VOICE: (excitedly) Albert?
The white noise hiss is interrupted by the sound of tuning, snippets of voices and music, sounds all distorted and bent. The tuning stops once it reaches a saccharine advertising jingle, all done in cheap synthesized piano and saxophone.
ALBERT enters.
ALBERT is a living cartoon character. His eyes are large, saucer sized, white spheres that sparkle. The pupils are jet black, the size of tennis balls. They scan the room slowly. ALBERT wears a navy blue zoot suit with a light brown tie and brown argyle socks. A stylized swoop of black hair sits on the very top of his head like a hat. There are only four fingers on each of his white gloved hands. His entire body is surrounded by a halo of blue-white light that flickers and crackles as if resisting the very fabric of existence.
ALBERT never stops smiling.
ALBERT’s hand dances lightly up the tether between the ceiling and MANAGER/VOICE’s head. His eyes follow the tendrils from the head to ceiling and he nods approvingly. Slowly, he makes his way over to the vending machine. ALBERT strokes it on its side as he passes. The vending machine lets out a sound of mechanical pleasure. He clutches the shoulder of each of the robed figure as he walks by. He slaps the last one on the ass before picking up a chair and bringing it over to where JOHN sits on the floor. ALBERT sets it down firmly, walks around it once, and sits down. He strokes JOHN’s hair, gently, from his forehead back. JOHN takes his hands from the side of his head and looks up at ALBERT.
JOHN: Why… Why can’t I look at you? It hurts… My eyes… They hurt…
ALBERT: Couldn’t tell you, Chuck.
JOHN: ...name’s not… Chuck
ALBERT: Does it really matter? Doesn’t really change the situation.
JOHN: Situation?
ALBERT: The new procedure.
ALBERT points a thumb in the direction of MANAGER/VOICE
ALBERT: He told you all about it. The new procedure!
JOHN: He didn’t tell me anything…
ALBERT: He told you everything! The new procedure!
JOHN: What’s… What’s the new procedure?
ALBERT: I really hate repeating myself, Jimmy Boy. We went over all the information and you didn’t listen!
JOHN: No one told me anything. I don’t know! I just don’t know!
ALBERT: Stevie, Stevie, Stevie. This won’t do! This just won’t do!
ALBERT snaps his finger and the three robed figures slowly surround JOHN. The drums and chanting get louder. JOHN can feel the drums beating deep inside his chest and he suddenly loses his breath. The robed figures kneel and lay their hand on JOHN’s chest. JOHN begins to convulse and choke for air.
ALBERT: This just won’t do, at all…
Black tar pours from JOHN’s mouth. He tries to scream but all that emerges from his throat are fluid bubbles. He struggles but still can’t help succumbing to unconsciousness.
SCENE 7
JOHN wakes to find the room has been returned to normal. There is no sign of the robed figures, their bloody sigils, or the dead men on the floor. The vending machine has been replaced to its proper position and no longer shows any signs of life. The television is dark and quiet. An instrumental cover of an 80’s pop song plays quietly through the intercom speaker.
JOHN is sitting at the table at the center of the room. Next to him is seated MANAGER. MANAGER is no longer tethered to the ceiling and appears to completely back to normal. Directly across the table sits a man that looks exactly like JOHN, minus one glaring difference. The man sitting across from JOHN has no face. His head is pale, bald and featureless.
JOHN: What… Where did he go?
MANAGER: Where did who go?
JOHN: Albert. I just saw him. He was glowing. Burned my eyes.
MANAGER: I don’t know anyone by that name, employee. We do have a lot of people working for us though.
JOHN: W-w-what? He was right here. Right here.
JOHN slaps his hand on the table.
MANAGER: I’m sorry but we really don’t have time for this. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover here so we can return to this later. We just really don’t have the time. The new procedure is rather complicated and it’s important to get through EVERYTHING. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. It’s time to start the presentation.
MANAGER pulls a large remote control from his pocket and points it at the television. It flickers and hums. ALBERT is on the screen. The camera is closed on his smiling face.
ALBERT: I’d like to thank you for showing up today. We’ve got a lot to cover and I’m going to try to not bore you to sleep.
MANAGER laughs and slaps his knee.
ALBERT: All you’ve been hearing about lately is our new procedure, I’m sure. I’m here to tell you that this will change everything you know about working here. Your managers have all had this training already and have been preparing things for weeks.
MANAGER gets out of his chair and heads toward the kitchenette. He pulls a large black marker from a drawer.
ALBERT: As you can surely see, you are sitting across from the new you. The company you. The perfect you.
MANAGER stands behind faceless man and puts his hands on the man’s shoulders. He gives them a couple jovial squeezes.
ALBERT: Any company will tell you that their biggest point of opportunity is people. The human element. We, as a corporate entity, have always strived to transcend that. Aggressive recruitment and thorough training just aren’t enough to build the best worker, though. So we’ve tried to do just that. Build a better worker. A worker that will give us exactly what we have always wanted. Dominance. Success. Power.
MANAGER pulls the lid off the marker with his teeth. His head twitches twice before settling back into a vacant smile.
ALBERT: Our early attempts were less than stellar, as you’ve seen. Directly across from you is the future. We call it You-Point-Oh.
JOHN: I don’t want this. I don’t want to work here anymore. Why won’t you just let me leave?
ALBERT turns his head and looks down at JOHN.
ALBERT: Do you want the truth, John? The real truth that you’ve known this entire time? Or can I continue?
JOHN: Yes! Tell me! Tell me!
ALBERT: Really?
JOHN: (yelling) YES!
ALBERT: Can I ask you a question first? I promise that I’ll tell you everything once you answer.
JOHN: (yelling) TELL ME!
ALBERT: I will! Just answer my question. It’ll explain everything.
JOHN: Fine! Then the truth! Then you let me the fuck out.
ALBERT: Okay. Here it is. My big question. And I’ve got to be totally honest with you here. I don’t know why you hadn’t thought of this already.
JOHN: What’s your goddamn question already? I’m just so fucking tired. Of all of this.
ALBERT: What are you still doing here?
JOHN doesn’t say anything for a moment.
JOHN: What do you mean?
ALBERT: What are you still doing here? It’s a simple question.
JOHN: You’ve been holding me hostage! The doors are locked! I can’t leave!
ALBERT: Bullshit! You could’ve left at any time. The doors have always been open.
JOHN: You’re lying! They’re locked. I tried it.
ALBERT: Try it again.
JOHN stands up, defiantly, and storms over to the door leading outside. He pushes on it hesitantly and it opens easily. Outside is nothing but space and darkness.
ALBERT: Can we continue now? Has your curiosity been satisfied?
JOHN stares at the emptiness outside the door.
JOHN: There’s nothing there…
ALBERT: Will you please just take your seat?
JOHN: THERE’S NOTHING THERE!
ALBERT: Not knowing what’s out there isn’t the same as there being nothing there. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
JOHN: NOTHING!
The lights flicker and the television grows brighter.
ALBERT: (distorted and loud) TAKE YOUR SEAT.
The door slams shut in front of JOHN, knocking him back. He stumbles but doesn’t fall. The television starts smoking. Blue light throbs from behind.
ALBERT: I am done with this. You have tried my patience for the last time. Your seat. Take it.
JOHN looks up at ALBERT in defeat. He slowly walks back to his seat and meekly slides into it. The lights return to normal and the television stops smoldering.
ALBERT: Back to the subject. You-Point-Oh. We have spent years trying to design the perfect worker. One without emotion. Without distraction. Without imagination. You-Point-Oh is the outcome of that work. What do you think?
JOHN: He’s not even human. Look at it. It’s blank.
ALBERT: Focus groups did say that may be a problem. I think we can fix that.
MANAGER takes the marker and draws a crude smiley face on YOU-POINT-OH.
ALBERT: Better?
JOHN says nothing.
ALBERT: I’ve got another question for you, John.
JOHN: What is it?
ALBERT: If I could take all the pain and aggravation, the confusion, the ANGST of working away. If you could come in, every day, and not worry about anything. Wouldn’t you want that? Wouldn’t that make your life better? If you didn’t feel like you had to fight? If you didn’t feel like you had to make your way up the ladder and get that gold ring? If all you had to do was come in and do your job?
JOHN says nothing.
ALBERT: You don’t even need to answer. I know the answer already. And I can give it to you. All you have to do is shake his hand. Just take his hand and shake it. It doesn’t even require any effort.
JOHN looks at ALBERT, then at MANAGER, and then, finally, at YOU-POINT-OH. YOU-POINT-OH puts his hand out, ready to receive JOHN’s.
ALBERT: Just take his hand. It’ll all get better if you just take his hand.
JOHN says nothing as he reaches out and clasps YOU-POINT-OH’s. JOHN’s face grows pale and his skin begins to dry and wrinkle. He gets skinnier and skinnier until his body is nothing but a shrivelled farce of what JOHN once was. His bones liquify and his arms droop like wet noodles. JOHN then melts away and the puddle that had once been a man lays on the floor. MANAGER pulls out his remote and turns the television off. He points at the mess that had once been JOHN.
MANAGER: Can you please clean that up?
YOU-POINT-OH stands from his chair and walks out through the door leading to the shop. He has only one goal and that is to find a mop to clean up the man he had once been.
END
Thank you for indulging me and we’ll be back to normal on Wednesday with the release of A/NOT A: The Brutal Dichotomies of Steve Ditko.
Have a great day everyone!
EJM