A couple. Four chairs. They are sitting.
Her – You all right?
Him – I’m fine… And you?
Her – I’m fine… (Pause) Do you want a drink?
Him – What?
Her – An aperitif? Some peanuts?
Him – No, I’m fine, thanks.
A pause.
Her – It’s nice here, isn’t it?
Him – Here?
Her – In this house.
Him – Yes… (Pause) But it’s not ours.
Her – Oh, isn’t it?
Him – No.
Her – That’s true.
Him – Is it a house, or a flat?
Her – A flat, I think. I’m not sure.
A pause.
Him – Do you remember where our home is?
Her – Our home?
Him – Our real home. Where we belong!
Her – No… Do you?
Him – Neither do I. I can’t even remember what it looked like.
Her – We’ve moved so many times.
Him – That’s true. We do move a lot.
Her – Yes. More and more.
Him – We really should try to remember.
Her – Remember what?
Him – Where we live.
Her – All homes look a bit alike.
Him – Even when it’s a flat.
Her – There are bedrooms. A dining room. A kitchen.
Him – In the kitchen, there’s a fridge, a cooker, a table, drawers…
Her – In the drawers, there are forks, knives, teaspoons.
Him – In the bedrooms, there are children. Sometimes…
Her – When there aren’t, it’s because they’ve already left. To another home.
A pause.
Him – Do you think they’ll come back one day?
Her – The children?
Him – The owners!
Her – Who knows… How long have we been here?
Him – I don’t know… Quite a while, hasn’t it?
Her – Yes.
Him – I’m always afraid someone will ring the doorbell, and it’ll be them.
Her – The children?
Him – The people who live here! The real owners…
Her – Oh, right…
Him – Aren’t you?
Her – Yes. Actually, I wonder if the doorbell works.
Him – What?
Her – The doorbell! We’ve never heard it.
Him – Anyway, when the people who live here come back, they won’t ring.
Her – Why not?
Him – It’s their home! They’ll have the key.
Her – Of course.
Him – When people come home, they don’t ring the bell. They have no reason to think anyone’s inside when they’re not here.
Her – True… Do we have the key?
Him – I don’t know. Do you have the key?
Her – No.
Him – Neither do I.
Her – So how did we get in here?
Him – I can’t remember.
Her – Maybe someone let us in.
Him – Who would have let us in?
Her – The owners?
Him – But we’re alone in this flat.
Her – How long have we been here?
Him – I don’t know…
A pause.
Her – That must be why we never go out. We wouldn’t be able to get back in.
Him – No. Since we don’t have the key.
The doorbell rings. They exchange a worried look.
Her – Do you think it’s them?
Him – We said if it were them, they wouldn’t ring.
Her – So who could it be?
Him – Who knows…
Her – What do we do?
Him – We should answer it, right?
Her – Do you think so?
Him – They’ve seen the light. They know we’re here.
Her – This is it… We’re done for…
Him – We’re going to have to move again.
Her – But where will we go?
Him – I’ll pack our suitcase.
Her – Do we have a suitcase?
Him – Everyone has a suitcase at home, don’t they?
Her – I’ll go and open the door…
Him – What are you going to say to them?
Her – I don’t know…
Him – You’ll have to say something, to explain why we’re here. In their home.
Her – They’re probably just back from holiday.
Him – I’ll go see if we have a suitcase.
She exits. He exits, too. She returns with another couple. Michael has a bottle in hand, and Christine a bouquet of flowers. He returns with a suitcase.
Her – This is Michael and Christine.
Him – Oh, hello…
Michael – Hi. How are you?
Him – I’m fine, and you?
Christine – Great. Are you going on holiday?
Him – No, why?
Michael – You’re holding a suitcase…
Him – Oh, yes, no, I… I was just about to put it away. You know how it is with suitcases, you never know where to put them.
Her – And an empty suitcase takes up as much space as a full one.
Christine – Yes. But it’s lighter.
Michael – True. We should go on holiday with empty suitcases. We’d travel lighter.
They all laugh, a little awkwardly.
Christine – So, how are you?
Him – I’m fine.
Michael – Here, I brought some champagne to celebrate.
Him – Celebrate what?
Michael bursts out laughing.
Michael – Celebrate what? Always a joker, aren’t you?
Christine – He’s funny! Here, I brought some flowers.
Her – Oh yes, lovely.
Him – I’ll go get some flutes.
Her – You want us to play the flute for them?
Michael – Flutes! For the champagne!
Her – Oh, right!
They laugh again.
Christine – She’s funny!
Her – And I’ll find a vase. For the flowers.
Christine – Would you like some help?
Him – No, no, please!
Her – Make yourselves at home.
Him – You know the place.
They both exit.
Michael (smiling) – They’re so funny…
Christine – Yes…
Michael – They haven’t changed. Still as…
Christine – You think so?
Michael – What?
Christine – That they haven’t changed.
Michael – Now that you mention it, I suppose…
Christine – No, but they don’t look anything like…
Michael – Well, a bit, maybe…
Christine – Hmm…
Michael – And you know, people… They change…
Christine – Not this much… Not in a week…
Michael – It was a week ago?
Christine – It was last week. The last time we saw them.
Michael – It’s true, they’ve changed quite a lot.
A pause.
Christine – Or maybe… it’s not them.
Michael – Not them? Then what would they be doing here? If it’s not their home…
A pause.
Christine – You think we could have got the wrong door?
Michael – I doubt it… Besides, they seem to know us, don’t they? If they know us, it means we know them too.
Christine – Yes, of course…
The man returns.
Him – I’m terribly sorry, I couldn’t find any champagne flutes.
Christine – Oh, men…
Michael – Just ask your wife.
The woman returns as well.
Him – Do you know where the flutes are, darling?
Her – No… There might not be any…
Christine – What do you mean? No champagne flutes? Everyone has champagne flutes, don’t they?
Michael – It doesn’t matter. We’ll drink it from regular glasses.
Christine – You’ve got wine glasses, surely?
They don’t look sure.
Him – I didn’t see anything…
Her – I couldn’t find a vase either.
Christine – Surely you have some glasses. In a kitchen…
Her – I couldn’t find the kitchen.
An awkward moment.
Michael – Well… You know what? We’ll drink the champagne from the bottle. Like the Russians!
Christine – Do Russians drink champagne from the bottle?
Michael – The Cossacks, surely. Without even dismounting.
Her – But please, sit down.
They all sit. Awkward smiles. Silence.
Him – And the kids, they’re doing well? (Michael and Christine, who clearly don’t have children, exchange a confused look) No, I meant, kids in general. Not necessarily yours. If you don’t have any…
Her – Or anymore… I mean… You could have had them, and they might have passed away.
Awkward silence.
Her – I’ll see if I can find some peanuts…
She exits.
Him – Anyway, it’s nice of you to drop by.
Christine – We’re friends, aren’t we?
Him – Of course.
Michael and Christine exchange an awkward look. Christine signals Michael to go ahead.
Michael – My question might sound silly, but… do you actually live here?
Him – Why do you ask?
Christine – Well… Our friends who live here don’t look anything like you.
Michael – The last time we came, they looked nothing like you…
She returns.
Her – I found the peanuts!
Christine – So, you found the kitchen…?
Her – I even found some glasses.
Michael – Then we can have a drink!
Christine – Go on…
Michael opens the bottle and pours the drinks. They toast.
Michael – To your health!
Him – To friendship!
They drink.
Her – Have some peanuts.
They eat peanuts.
Christine – I’ve never dared to ask, but…
Him – Yes…?
Christine – Where did you two meet? (Awkward silence) Sorry, I don’t know what came over me…
Her – No, no, it’s just that…
Him – We don’t really remember.
Christine – You don’t remember?
Michael – You don’t remember where you met?
A pause.
Her – I think it was here, wasn’t it?
Christine – Here?
Her – One day, we realised we were living in the same flat.
Him – Yes, funny that… I think that’s how it happened.
Her – It was a while ago, of course.
Him – Yes… A week, maybe.
Her – Yes, that’s right, about a week ago.
Christine – Ah, well…
Him – And you?
Michael – Us?
Her – Have you known each other long?
Christine – No, not very…
Michael – I’d say… Yes, not very long.
Christine – We met in the lobby, downstairs.
Michael – I had a bottle of champagne.
Christine – And I had a bouquet of flowers.
Michael – We figured we must be going to the same place.
Christine – Since I didn’t have the door code…
Michael – Neither did I. I rang a few doorbells at random. You were the first to open.
Christine – Since he seemed to know where he was going, I followed him.
Him – Ah, yes…
Her – Yes, it’s… quite a story.
Him – Very romantic.
Her – You’ll see, it’ll end in a wedding.
Michael and Christine exchange an uncomfortable look.
Michael – So, if I understand correctly, no one here really knows each other.
Her – Apparently not…
Christine – And no one has any business being in this house.
Him – Apparently not…
Michael – So whose house is it?
Silence.
Christine – Would you like more champagne?
Her – Thank you, but it’s getting late. We should probably go.
Him – Anyway, thanks for the hospitality.
Michael – No trouble at all.
He picks up the suitcase and heads towards the door with Her.
Christine – Shall I see you out?
Her – Don’t bother; we know the way.
Michael – Want help with the suitcase?
Him – No… It weighs nothing… It’s empty.
Christine – Well… See you again sometime!
Michael – And thanks for stopping by!
They exit. Michael and Christine sit back down. Silence.
Christine – You all right?
Michael – I’m fine… And you?
Christine – I’m fine… (Pause) Want another drink?
Michael – No, thanks, I’m fine.
Christine – Some peanuts?
He grabs a handful of peanuts and begins chewing.
Christine – It’s nice here, isn’t it?
Michael – Yes… (Pause) But it’s not our place.
Christine – That’s true.
Michael – Is it a house, or a flat?
Christine – A flat, I think.
Blackout.

All the texts available on this website can be downloaded for free. However, performance rights, which constitute fair compensation for the author’s work, are a legal obligation. Whether you are an amateur or a professional, you must request authorization to perform the play and pay the corresponding royalties for the production.

To get in touch with Jean-Pierre Martinez and ask an authorization to represent one of his works: CONTACT FORM.

A sketch from the collection Dramedies
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)

Find all of Jean-Pierre Martinez’s plays on his website:
https://jeanpierremartinez.net

L’article Behind Closed Doors est apparu en premier sur La Sketchothèque.

On a coffee table: a coffee pot, two cups, and a newspaper. Peter enters in his dressing gown. He pours himself a cup of coffee and picks up the newspaper to read. Mary, his wife, enters.
Mary – You all right?
Peter – I’m all right.
Mary pours herself a cup and observes Peter.
Mary – You look worried… Something wrong?
Peter – No… Well… I still don’t have any ideas for my new play.
Mary – Don’t worry, it’ll come… It always does, doesn’t it?
Peter – Yes… So far, at least…
Mary – Isn’t there a good story in the paper for inspiration?
He puts the newspaper down.
Peter – The news is getting more depressing by the day… I think I might stop reading it. I’ve already given up on TV and radio…
Mary – True, none of it’s particularly cheerful. On the other hand… that’s why we’ll always need writers like you.
Peter – Oh, really? And what’s a writer like me?
Mary – You know… Someone who makes us laugh… A comedy writer!
Peter – A comedy writer? So that’s how you see me?
Mary – Well, we need writers to create good comedies! Help us forget our worries… Give us a chance to have fun without thinking about anything…
Peter – Not think about anything?
Mary – Sorry… I mean… think about something else.
Peter – I see… So to you, I’m just an entertainer… someone who distracts, who diverts people’s attention from society’s real issues…
Mary – There you go with the big ideas… Entertaining people isn’t something to be ashamed of, is it?
Peter – I don’t know… Maybe it’s worth wanting more.
Mary – Like what?
Peter – To be useful…
Mary – To me, making people smile, helping them find a bit of joy, is very useful. And not everyone has that talent.
Peter – Yeah…
Mary – What?
Peter – I’ve written nearly a hundred comedies.
Mary – And they’ve all been big successes.
Peter – Yes, but I’m starting to run out of ideas. I wonder if I haven’t covered it all.
Mary – You want to stop writing?
Peter – I’m not sure I could do that either… No, I was just wondering if…
Mary – If what?
Peter – What if I tried another genre?
Mary – You mean a novel? I’ve been telling you for years you should try that. Some novels are funny, too…
Peter – Unfortunately, I’m not a novelist, I know that. Theatre’s all I know how to do.
Mary – Well, then, you just need to find a good subject for a comedy.
Peter – And what if I wrote… a different kind of play?
Mary – A different kind of play?
Peter – Something that doesn’t necessarily have to be funny, you see?
Mary – An unfunny comedy?
Peter – No, not a comedy!
Mary – You mean… a dramedy?
Peter – I mean, not a comedy at all!
Mary – You want to write a drama?
Peter – A drama, a tragedy… Call it what you like.
Mary – Right…
Peter – What?
Mary – I don’t know… (Silence) Are you sure you’re all right?
Peter – I’ve run out of ideas for comedies. I want to try something different. It’s not a tragedy!
Mary – OK… (Pause) Would you like some more coffee?
Peter – No, thanks.
Mary – Right, I’ll leave you to think… about your new play.
She exits. He sighs and opens the newspaper again. The phone rings. He answers.
Peter – Yes? Oh, yes… No, no, I was just about to call you, actually… Look, I don’t know yet… No, right now, I’m out of inspiration. Yes, I know, I always said that doesn’t exist. But you know, inspiration’s like God. You say it doesn’t exist until you really need it… And you, how are you? Right… I see… OK… Look, I’ll have to go now… Let’s call each other next week and try to plan a lunch? OK, let’s do that… Cheers, take care.
Mary returns, looking a bit awkward.
Mary – I need to run a few errands; I won’t be long. Are you all right?
Peter – Er… Yes. Things haven’t changed much since just now, but yes, I’m all right.
Mary – All right, I’m off then.
Peter – Right. See you later.
She exits. He resumes reading the newspaper, but barely starts before the doorbell rings. He steps out to answer and returns with a woman.
Alex – I hope I’m not disturbing you?
Peter – No, no, not at all, I was just… Want some coffee?
Alex – Thanks, I’m fine.
Peter – Nice of you to drop by like this unannounced.
Alex – When you live in the same building as your agent, there’s always the risk of them showing up uninvited…
Peter – I might have to move, then…
They share a smile, followed by an awkward silence.
Alex – So, what are you working on?
Peter – Nothing… I was on the phone with… What’s her name again… You know, that actress who was in… She’s become a publisher now.
Alex – A publisher?
Peter – You know how it is. Life’s cruel for actresses. Especially for ingénues. Once they’re over thirty…
Alex – Are you looking for a new publisher?
Peter – Not really… She’s the one who called. Just wanted to check in… It’s starting to worry me. Everyone’s asking if I’m all right today…
Alex – So… are you all right?
Peter – I’m fine, thanks… It’s ridiculous…
Alex – What is?
Peter – I ended the conversation with “Let’s call each other and try to plan a lunch” Just came out of habit. Might as well have actually had lunch at noon today.
Alex – What can you do… We’re all so busy…
Peter – Or we’ve got nothing to do and we pretend we’re busy…
Alex – Yeah…
Peter – Like you, for instance. Particularly busy today? (Silence) No, obviously not, or you wouldn’t be here. Imagine? You agree to lunch on a whim… The next day, everyone in the business will know you’ve nothing to do. That no one wants to work with you anymore. That you’re unemployed. Or worse, blacklisted… And then no one calls, and you’re really totally washed-up.
Alex – Yeah… (Silence) And… is she all right?
Peter – Who?
Alex – Your publisher!
Peter – I don’t know… You’re right… Maybe she’s the one who’s not all right. She called me because she needed someone to talk to. And I practically hung up on her… I should’ve suggested lunch… And you, are you all right?
Alex – I’m fine…
Peter – You’re sure you don’t want any coffee?
Alex – Positive… (Silence) Writing anything at the moment?
Peter – Not really. I think I’ve reached the end of something here. I need to change my style.
Alex – Yeah, I know. I ran into Mary on the stairs.
Peter – Don’t tell me that’s why you stopped by.
Alex – So, you want to write a drama.
Peter – Yes, well… Why not?
Alex – This is a joke, right?
Peter – See, Alex, that’s my problem. The mere idea of me writing something other than a comedy, and people think it’s a joke.
Alex – Let’s just say… it’s not exactly what people expect from you.
Peter – And?
Alex – It might surprise your audience… Maybe even disappoint them…
Peter – Disappoint them? I haven’t even written a line yet, and you’re already saying it’ll be disappointing. Thanks for the encouragement. Nice to know why I have an agent.
Alex – So… do you have a subject in mind?
Peter – No… It’s just an idea…
Alex – Right, so it’s just an idea.
Peter – That’s it…
Alex – Sorry, I might have jumped the gun a bit.
Peter – I don’t know… I was thinking of writing something about those migrants who end up washed ashore on our coasts. Assuming they haven’t drowned along the way, of course…
Alex – A comedy, you mean? (He gives her a disappointed look) Sorry, I don’t know why I said that… So you’re serious, you really want to write something…
Peter – I’m not twenty anymore… Neither are you… Maybe it’s time we started thinking about the world around us, don’t you think?
Alex – The world around us?
Peter – Imagine that after we die, we’re reincarnated. Just like that. By chance. The world is mostly filled with people who have miserable lives. If you can even call it living. When you think about it, apart from a small minority of privileged people, the luckiest of whom live in tax havens, Earth is a hellhole.
Alex – So what?
Peter – So what? Statistically, reincarnation means guaranteed hell… If we don’t change the world in our lifetime, we’re pretty much destined to live in hell when we’re reincarnated!
Alex stares at him, stunned.
Alex – OK…
Peter – I’ll let you think about that. I’m going to get dressed…
He exits. Mary enters.
Mary – Well?
Alex – He’s not doing well.
Mary – I told you.
Alex – He’s losing it. He’s talking about death, heaven, hell.
Mary – No?
Alex – He wants to write a play about refugees.
Mary – Tax exiles?
Alex – Economic refugees!
Mary – You mean… retirees who move to Portugal or Morocco because it’s cheaper there?
Alex – Migrants! In the Mediterranean!
Mary – No way… He told you that?
Alex – I tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t listen.
Mary – Where is he?
Alex – He went to get dressed.
Mary – I don’t understand… This morning, he was completely normal. Well… he was his usual self, anyway…
Alex – It might just be temporary. He’s probably a bit down. But we shouldn’t take it lightly.
Mary – Definitely… I hate to say it, but… I feel like he might have suicidal tendencies.
Alex – We should suggest he sees a doctor.
Mary – A psychiatrist, you mean?
Alex – I don’t know.
Mary – Sometimes a simple vitamin boost does the trick… Maybe a homeopath?
Peter re-enters.
Peter – Ah, you’re still here?
Alex – I’ll leave you two.
Peter – No, I’m not kicking you out.
Alex – I was about to go anyway. I’ve… I’ve got a big day ahead. Let’s call and have lunch together sometime?
She exits. Mary gives Peter an awkward look.
Mary – I just told her you were here and that if she fancied a coffee, she could come up…
Peter – She didn’t want one.
Mary – What?
Peter – Coffee. I offered her some, she didn’t want it.
Silence.
Mary – What are you looking for, Peter, really?
Peter – I don’t know…
Mary – Aren’t we happy, together?
Peter – Yes, of course we are. That’s not the issue.
Mary – You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?
Peter – No, not at all!
Mary – We’ve got the life we wanted, haven’t we? You’re doing what you love. You have no boss. You make a good living.
Peter – I know.
Mary – Then what’s going on?
Peter – None of it makes sense to me anymore. I need… to try something else.
Mary – But why?
Peter – I don’t know… So that, at my funeral, people don’t just say: “Well, he was just a joker.”
Silence.
Mary – Do you want us to move?
Peter – It would be the same anywhere else.
Mary – You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?
Peter – Something stupid? Like what?
Mary tries to hide her unease.
Mary – I’ll leave you to work…
She exits. He stands there, puzzled for a moment. He takes a notebook and a pencil and tries to write, but clearly, inspiration isn’t there. He picks up the phone and dials a number.
Peter – Yes, sorry, it’s me again… Listen, I managed to free myself for tonight. Could you come over for dinner? I’d like to talk to you about a new project… Yes, of course, bring your husband. Eight o’clock is perfect. Great, see you then…
He hangs up. He returns to the notebook and pencil, starting to write feverishly. He pauses and addresses the audience.
Peter – You’ll see. This time, you won’t be laughing.
He resumes writing.
Blackout.

All the texts available on this website can be downloaded for free. However, performance rights, which constitute fair compensation for the author’s work, are a legal obligation. Whether you are an amateur or a professional, you must request authorization to perform the play and pay the corresponding royalties for the production.

To get in touch with Jean-Pierre Martinez and ask an authorization to represent one of his works: CONTACT FORM.

A sketch from the collection Dramedies
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)

Find all of Jean-Pierre Martinez’s plays on his website:
https://jeanpierremartinez.net

L’article Fatally Funny est apparu en premier sur La Sketchothèque.

One – Promise me you won’t panic…
Two – What?
One – They just announced it on Facebook. Chinese scientists have finally discovered the ultimate secret of the universe.
Two – The ultimate secret of the universe?
One – You know! Where we come from, where we’re going, why there’s something rather than nothing…
Two – What?
One – The Big Bang, black holes, antimatter…!
Two – And?
One – Well, it turns out, none of that actually exists.
Two – Oh, really…
One – We are fictional characters in a gigantic video game, created by an artificial intelligence to entertain the children of a highly advanced civilisation.
Two – Chinese scientists…?
One – Yes, Chinese.
Two – On Facebook?
One – What difference does it make?
Two – None.
One – And that’s all it does to you?
Two – What?
One – This! Finding out we’re fictional characters in a video game. You don’t seem that surprised.
Two – I always suspected it.
One – You always suspected it?
Two – Yeah, I knew… Didn’t you?
One – No… And if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?
Two – I thought you knew.
One – Well, no, I didn’t.
Two – Well, now you know. So, what’s for dinner?
One – What’s for dinner?
Two – I’m starving. Aren’t you?
One – Doesn’t seem to kill your appetite, anyway.
Two – So? What are we eating?
One – After all that, I don’t feel like cooking. I’ll order Chinese.
Two – Fine…
One – But if we’re fictional characters, how can we even be hungry?
Two – Games are super realistic these days. Characters feel all kinds of stuff.
One – You think so?
Two – Look at prehistoric humans. A few tens of thousands of years ago, it was pretty basic. You were hungry, you killed a mammoth and ate it raw. You wanted company for dinner, you knocked a woman out and dragged her back to your cave by the hair. Now…
One – You get married, call Uber Eats, and order Chinese.
Two – We get updated regularly. As technology evolves, so does the game.
One – I never suspected any of this.
Two – Yet it’s pretty obvious.
One – Yeah…
Two – And how did the Chinese figure it out?
One – They noticed a glitch in the game.
Two – A glitch? What kind of glitch?
One – This one. At some point in the game, the characters realise they’re characters in a video game.
Two – Right. So I’m not the first one to figure it out.
One – No.
Two – And are they going to fix the glitch?
One – We don’t know…
Two – Now… is it really a glitch?
One – What do you mean?
Two – Maybe it’s part of the game.
One – I see… The characters themselves gain a kind of self-awareness and realise they were created by a higher power.
Two – Exactly…
One – And what about God in all this?
Two – Einstein said God does not play dice. He never said He doesn’t play video games.
Blackout.

All the texts available on this website can be downloaded for free. However, performance rights, which constitute fair compensation for the author’s work, are a legal obligation. Whether you are an amateur or a professional, you must request authorization to perform the play and pay the corresponding royalties for the production.

To get in touch with Jean-Pierre Martinez and ask an authorization to represent one of his works: CONTACT FORM.

A sketch from the collection Don’t panic!
Link to the collection for free download (PDF)

Find all of Jean-Pierre Martinez’s plays on his website:
https://jeanpierremartinez.net

L’article The Secret of the Universe est apparu en premier sur La Sketchothèque.