LIKELY TARGETS IN A VACUUM

A one-act play

Michael A Rose

Cast of Characters

PRUDENCE JONES: A librarian. A twin. 40-ish. Passive-aggressive.

DISCRETION JONES: A librarian. A twin. 40-ish. Decorous-aggressive.

MR. BUMBLEBEE TWITTY: Not a librarian. Quite aerodynamic.

Scene

The apartment of Prudence and Discretion, twin ladies who work in a library.

Time

Weekday morning, present.

SETTING: The apartment of the twins PRUDENCE and DISCRETION JONES. A couch stands in the middle of the room. A large picture window overlooks the city. Tasteful curtains, doilies and knick-knacks decorate the room.

AT RISE: PRUDENCE and DISCRETION sit side by side on the couch. They are both reading books, sitting very straight and proper as though their spines have fused. They politely turn the pages of their respective books in perfect harmonious unison. We hear a loud “PHOOMP” sound, like a melon being pulled from a bucket, and then an excruciatingly long “whistling sound” that gets louder and louder, until finally, with a crash, the limp body of BUMBLEBEE TWITTY comes flying through the window with a loud “CRASH” and lies motionless on the floor. The twins do not seem to notice his corpse lying there, and sit quietly without looking up from their books for a long pause.

DISCRETION

Oh dear.

PRUDENCE

What is it, Discretion dear?

DISCRETION

There seems to be a corpse on our floor, Prudence.

PRUDENCE

A corpse? Really?

DISCRETION

Probably those boys from across the way again.

PRUDENCE

Those boys are nothing but trouble, Discretion.

DISCRETION

Nothing but trouble indeed, Prudence.

PRUDENCE

Perhaps we ought to fire back, Discretion?

DISCRETION

No no, my dear. I am the better part of valor, remember. We mustn’t be aggressive. There are consequences to consider. Laws to be made clear.

PRUDENCE

I think we ought to get the cannon out anyway. Teach them not to fire strange men through our picture windows.

DISCRETION

The cannon is out of order.

PRUDENCE

I beg to differ my dear. We’ve only just had it serviced.

DISCRETION

When?

PRUDENCE

You know as well as I do, the man came last Thursday and oiled it up inside and out.

(pause)

What is the matter, my dear?

DISCRETION

All right, I confess I think it’s a silly idea to use the cannon. We really wouldn’t know what to aim at.

PRUDENCE

We would fire a warning shot. Shoot him high over the city, to send a message to those ne’er-do-wells that go about shooting cannons off willy-nilly.

DISCRETION

What if we have a stroke of bad luck? What if we hit an ostrich?

PRUDENCE

Ostriches are flightless, my dear. You ought know that from those years spent working at the library information desk.

DISCRETION

What if our ostrich was piloting a dirigible?

PRUDENCE

Ostriches can’t pilot dirigibles. They don’t have opposable thumbs.

DISCRETION

Still, I think we ought not fire the cannon.

PRUDENCE

Well, what do you intend to do with the fellow on the floor, dear sister?

DISCRETION

I say we have him stuffed. We could use the feathers from the extra pillows.

PRUDENCE

What might we do with a stuffed man, Discretion?

DISCRETION

We could put him in the corner. Use him to frighten intruders, or as a door-stop.

PRUDENCE

He would rot away, and then we’d have nothing left of him but his shoes.

DISCRETION

Well, they are nice shoes, Prudence dear.

PRUDENCE

Why do you object to firing him back out the window? I’m curious.

DISCRETION

I simply don’t want this war to escalate. It seems that we’ve been attacked, but it may have been a mistake, or even if it wasn’t, and we go firing back, who’s to know if we hit the right target? We really have no clue as to who fired him in here.

PRUDENCE

Perhaps we ought to do a bit of sleuthing then, dear sister.

(Both ladies stand up and walk to the corpse, looking

him over with great curiosity. DISCRETION pushes

him with the toe of her shoe.)

Not a very big one, is he?

DISCRETION

A mere bee-bee in the world of live ammunition.

PRUDENCE

Help me get him into the cannon.

DISCRETION

I told you before, my dear, I don’t want to go off starting random wars and slaying innocent ostriches just because a man came flying through the window.

PRUDENCE

What can I do to convince you?

DISCRETION

Help me stuff him. I’ll let you shoot the next one back.

PRUDENCE

But we don’t know when the next one will come. Or if it will hit our window or simply bounce off the side of the building and end up in the gutters below. That seems entirely unfair to me. Come now, you know I can’t do this myself, help me put him in the cannon.

DISCRETION

I suppose we could see if he fits. I’ll go that far with you, but I can’t promise that I won’t back out at the last possible moment and hide the matches for the fuse.

PRUDENCE

Fair enough, sister.

(The ladies go to the closet and retrieve a simple

cannon like tube on wheels. They shove MR.

BUMBLEBEE into the tube and try to lift it.)

DISCRETION

You see? He’s too heavy. We’ll never be able to fire him regardless. Now, if he were stuffed with feathers, he would fly like the breeze, and we could shoot him wherever we wished.

(Mumbling sounds are heard from within the tube)

BUMBLEBEE

Name… rank… and serial number. That’s all you’ll get from me.

PRUDENCE

Did you hear something, sister dear?

BUMBLEBEE

Bumblebee Twitty, first captain of the guard, sir. Forward harch, twenty-three skidoo and about faces!

DISCRETION

Our corpse is mobile, Prudence. I told you we should have stuffed him when we had the chance.

BUMBLEBEE

(Climbing out of the cannon as best he can)

Name rank and favorite cereal number. Bumblebee Twitty, first captain of the guard, crunch, captain, captain crunch.

PRUDENCE

What do we do with him now? He’s all walking about and saying things.

BUMBLEBEE

Live ammunition makes for dead targets. Drop and give me twenty of one half a dozen of another.

DISCRETION

He seems quite addled. Do you think it was the blast?

PRUDENCE

I wouldn’t be surprised. Fetch him a glass of water, Discretion dear.

DISCRETION

Of course.

(DISCRETION exits to the kitchen. She comes back

with a glass which she offers to BUMBLEBEE. He

tilts his head back and pours. Feathers come out of the cup)

BUMBLEBEE

I’m no chicken, sir. No chicken. No dumb cluck, I. Cluck off. Cluck you.

PRUDENCE
Why Discretion dear, I’m amazed at your deviousness. Trying to stuff him while I’m standing right here? What is this coming to?

DISCRETION

I’m sorry, sister dear, but I pictured him next to the stove and just couldn’t help myself.

PRUDENCE

Now whatever would we stand him there for?

DISCRETION

We could pose him in a frightening manner and use him to keep pests out of the kitchen. Perhaps we could use him as a spice rack. There are so many uses for dead men.

BUMBLEBEE

(BUMBLEBEE climbs back into the cannon.)

Not ready for the tomb yet, sir, not me. Tomb, womb, mushroom. Not me sir.

PRUDENCE

He’s gone back into the cannon. That seals it. He wants to be fired.

DISCRETION

Arguing will lead us nowhere. It’s like walking a staircase to a brick wall. If you’ll take the time to plan it out, I may just go along with firing him, I may just.

(The TWINS go to a small cupboard and pull out

a long rolled up map. They unroll it on the floor

and look it over)

PRUDENCE

Here’s where we are. This big building here, with all the flags on top.

DISCRETION

It’s such a nice neighborhood.

PRUDENCE

You see the lake over here? Remember our trip to the lake?

DISCRETION

It was so long ago. I can’t remember communicating with anyone since the debris started falling from the sky.

PRUDENCE

At least we have a nice view from here. It’s our little bunker away from bunkers.

DISCRETION

Aren’t you ever tired of the incessant shouting in the streets? The firing of random idiots through people’s private residences? The grass sharks? The gangs of roving albino bears?

PRUDENCE

It’s just the way things are. Who are we to change the system, Discretion dear?

DISCRETION

If we all banded together and stopped firing the cannons. Just stopped… don’t you think things would be better?

PRUDENCE

I don’t think we have an option, dear sister. We’ve been beset upon, and I say “to arms!” Now look here. At these co-ordinates, we have a vacant lot where the schoolchildren play. I say we fire there, and get the whole lot of them at once.

DISCRETION

All the schoolchildren, Prudence?

PRUDENCE

All of them, Discretion.

BUMBLEBEE

You may fire when ready, major! Aim high! Be all that you can be! See the world! Damn the torpedoes! Hoist the mitzen-mast! I have not yet begun to fight! We are fighting a war against evil, one person at a time.

PRUDENCE

You see, he’s ready to go. Now come and help me select a target.

DISCRETION

Not until we stuff him first. I really must put my foot down. I demand a compromise.

PRUDENCE

Fine, fine, as long as we both get equal say in what happens with him, I don’t care.

(PRUDENCE and DISCRETION exit and quickly

re-enter with feather pillows, which are slit and then

dumped into the cannon.)

DISCRETION

I don’t think this is quite enough. You go get more feathers whilst I pack him full.

(PRUDENCE exits for more feathers as DISCRETION

reaches into the tube and pushes, stuffing them further)

BUMBLEBEE

We will not lay down for terrorists! God bless Barbaria! War on the infidels! Freedom and democracy! Don’t tread on me!

DISCRETION

Quiet, you.

(DISCRETION reaches down into the cannon

and pokes BUMBLEBEE hard)

BUMBLEBEE

Ouch! Name rank and serial killer!

PRUDENCE

(Returning with more feathers in a bag, she

pours them down the mouth of the cannon)

There, this should be enough. Now, come on.

(The TWINS move the cannon over to the

window and point it out. They survey the land

around the building for a few moments.)

DISCRETION

If you must fire, fire.

PRUDENCE

I need fire to fire, my dear. Where are the matches?

DISCRETION

(Handing them over)

You’re getting your way, you know.

PRUDENCE

Trust me, sister dear, this is the best for all humankind. I know we’ve made the right descision today, and our children will know it, as will our childrens’ children, and their dogs.

DISCRETION

You always got your way. It’s really unfair.

PRUDENCE

Now is not the time, sister dear. Fire one!

(DISCRETION puts her fingers in her ears.

PRUDENCE lights the fuse on the cannon.

There is a loud blasting sound from the sound

System, as we hear a scream from BUMBLEBEE

BUMBLEBEE oozes out of the cannon (unseen)

And we hear his cry as he falls out and to the gutter

Below. The TWINS stand momentarily and then

PRUDENCE looks out the window.)

DISCRETION

Did he fly far?

PRUDENCE

No, straight down, I’m afraid.

DISCRETION

Not in the gutter?

PRUDENCE

I’m afraid so.

DISCRETION

I warned you he was too heavy.

PRUDENCE

But he was such a small man. I thought he’d be more aerodynamic.

DISCRETION

They must have had a bigger cannon, those who shot him at us.

PRUDENCE

The war won’t end, dear sister. Not until we get a bigger cannon.

DISCRETION

But we’ll just escalate it further, Prudence. No sane person would fire random shots half-way across the world just to prove a point to some immature children.

PRUDENCE

What if we’re attacked again?

DISCRETION

Then we’ll have to weather the blow like the rest.

PRUDENCE

We’ll see. There’s plenty of time until the apocalypse.

(The TWINS go back to sit in their places

on the couch again, open their books, and

begin to read in perfect unison again. As the

lights fade very slowly, we hear strains of the

national anthem. The lights fade as the music

comes to a swelling, thunderous point, and then

it cuts off as though a needle has been jerked

across a record. BLACKOUT.)

(END OF PLAY)