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WHAT THE FUCK?
by Tom Poole Tom Poole’s three new plays are, in order of ascending freshness: The Amorous Education of Nicholas Haycock, The Body, and Safe As Houses. His work has been produced at Theatre de la Jeune Lune, Magic Theatre (San Francisco), The Children’s Theatre Company, Park Square Theatre, and lots of other places. Honors include fellowships from the Jerome, McKnight, and Divine Foundations, an Emmy award, and more. Safe As Houses, a Joking Envelope production, premiers at The Theater Garage in Minneapolis on April 2nd.
The Waitress, who wears thick glasses, carries on Stephen Hawking. She puts him in a chair and arranges him artfully. He has a near smile on his face and his eyes are all over her. The waitress places a small speaker on top of his table and plugs it into an iPod in his hand. She places a menu on the table beside it. WAITRESS (Observing the effect.) Ok. Rock and roll. STEPHEN (From the speaker.) Thank you very much. As I am sure you have realized by now I am Dr. Stephen Hawking, the greatest living scientist in the world and star of the WB’s hit comedy series “What the Fuck?” Please reach into the right front pocket of my trousers. Don’t be shy, I can't feel anything at all in the area of my penis or testicles. WAITRESS What the fuck. She reaches into his pocket, digs around and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper with writing on it. STEPHEN It is my autograph. You are very welcome. Now, the nature of our universe is such that nothing is certain, but it is very probable that you’re bringing me a Bombay Sapphire martini up, dry and dirty, with two gorgonzola stuffed olives would result in your receiving a tip of celestial magnitude. Ha ha ha ha ha. And a very tall beer for my German friend here. Thank you very much.She looks around for his friend, shrugs. WAITRESS Ok. I have to tell you about the specials. No. No. (False brightness.) My name is Adriane. I’ll be your server this evening. If there’s anything I can do to make your dining experience more pleasant this evening just let me know, but I am not under any circumstances reaching into your pocket again, got it? Ok, the specials. Tonight our seafood special is pan-seared sea scallops with lentils, bacon and a cider reduction. The pasta special is fried ricotta and mozzarella dumplings with broccoli sauce topped with a chiffonade of grilled tilapia and béarnaise sabayon, baby bok choy, beets, frisee and shavings of artisanal manchego cheese. I would recommend the pasta highly if you like TALL food. We also have a beef dish, which is just like an enormous hump of meat. I guess it’s kind of retro and shit to eat big hunks of meat, but everybody who works here is pretty much vegetarian or just eats fish so nobody's heart is really in it. So. STEPHEN (Long pause, from the speaker.) Thank you very much. As I am sure you have realized by now I am Dr. Stephen Hawking, the greatest living scientist in the world and star of the WB’s hit comedy series “What the Fuck?” Please reach into the right front pocket of my trousers. Don’t be shy, I can’t feel anything at all in the area of my penis or testicles. After a moment of awkward silence Beethoven walks in. Everyone looks at each other for a few moments. WAITRESS Ok. I’m thinking Heineken, on tap, a tall one. Beethoven gives her a double thumbs up. She exits. Beethoven sits. Hawking waits for a moment, then moves, holding out his hand to shake. They shake. STEPHEN (Not from the speaker from now on, unless indicated.) Ludwig von Beethoven. I can't tell you how delighted we all are to have you here in the future. LUDWIG (Hearing something.) Do you need to get that? STEPHEN What? LUDWIG I'm hearing a phone, a cell phone, maybe a timer of some sort. Hawking shrugs. LUDWIG Nothing, huh? I think I may be hearing too well. STEPHEN I don’t know how much they’ve caught you up on quantum physics since you got here, Ludwig, but the most important principle that you should know is that “Time Is Money.” Everything else is in modern science is pretty loosey-goosey, but that one you can take to the bank. LUDWIG Loosey-goosey? STEPHEN It’s a technical term. I could show you the math, but then I’d have to kill you. LUDWIG I wouldn’t want that. STEPHEN That was a joke, Ludwig. LUDWIG I think that humor may have changed since my time. STEPHEN Are you kidding me, humor is timeless, just like fashion. Seeing the waitress returning, he returns to his former frozen pose. LUDWIG Mmmm, very nice. Very nice beer. She waits. LUDWIG Mmmm, yes, I think he likes it. Very nice, mmmm. She writes out a drinks check and puts it on the table. WAITRESS Have you decided anything about food? LUDWIG (Hearing something.) Do you need to get that? WAITRESS I—I think somebody will take care of it. I should probably tell you about the specials. Until recently our seafood special was pan-seared sea scallops with lentils, bacon and a cider reduction. But we're out of it. The pasta special was fried ricotta and mozzarella dumplings with broccoli sauce topped with a chiffonade of grilled tilapia and béarnaise sabayon, baby bok choy, beets, frisee and shavings of artisanal manchego cheese. It proved to be very popular with people who crave TALL food so we’re outta that too. What we may still have now is a fine Italian tuna until recently packed in oil, festooned with peach salsa and a confetti of papaya and roasted elephant garlic. This instant’s pasta special is spelt corkscrews with some grilled corn on it and an herb of some sort that could be thyme. We also have a beef dish, which is just, like, an enormous hump of meat. Even that is going fast, which I can tell you is shocking the shit out of everybody back of house. I will return soon and I strongly encourage you to make some decisions before it’s too late. STEPHEN (From the speaker.) Thank you so much. Everything was superb. I’m sure you hear this all the time, but I would swear I have seen you somewhere before. Are you a model perhaps or an actress? (Long pause.) I thought so. Might I have seen you in anything locally? (Pause.) I’m sure you have seen my television show on the WB, “What the Fuck?” It is currently the most popular show on television. I might be able to get you an audition if you would be interested. Take one of my cards, please. You will find them in the left hand pocket of my trousers. Don’t be embarrassed— WAITRESS (Over him as he continues, then she leaves.) Think fast, ok. STEPHEN (Over the speaker.) I have no feeling at all in my penis or testicles— (He cuts off the recording and returns to normal speech.) Fuck, what is it about waitresses that makes me so hot? I think it’s that they bring you food. (He gulps his drink and chews the olives furiously.) That was hilarious with the drink, pouring the drink into my mouth. I knew you were going to be funny. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got an extra sense or something, I just know when somebody is going to be funny. Even historical figures. I listened to your music and instantly I knew you were going to be one funny guy. LUDWIG Really? (Picking up the menu and looking at it, bewildered.) What particular composition were you listening to? STEPHEN A symphony, I think. Or a nocturne or some such shit, I don’t know from music, honestly. But funny, I know. And, of course, the laws that govern the physical universe. What do you know about the show? LUDWIG I was told it is very popular. STEPHEN It’s the most popular fucking show on television. You know the Lucy show? LUDWIG There was no television in my time. STEPHEN No, really? Ludwig, I’m the smartest fucking human on earth, I know when television was invented, ok? LUDWIG Sorry. STEPHEN You know the Honeymooners then? (Beethoven shakes his head sadly.) STEPHEN Ok, no big, I’m going to send some DVD’s over to your hotel. Basically it’s all the same shit. On “What the Fuck?” I’m the world’s greatest physicist and I’m in the wheelchair with the voice and everything and my wife is always getting us into these situations for various reasons, greed and stupidity and she wants to be a star and shit. So then I come home and everything’s crazy and I say “What the Fuck?” and figure out how to make everything work out using quantum mechanics. It’s the same old formula, really, but with some advanced physics thrown in so people don’t feel so totally fucking stupid watching it. And I am so lovable, totally non-threatening, the chair, the voice, yadayadayada. They cured my Motor Neuron disorder after the second season, but you know what, you don’t fuck with a gold mine. LUDWIG And you’ve brought me from the past to act in your television program? STEPHEN Yeah, see the thing is, due to the absolutely unpredictable nature of reality you are currently the most popular musician in the world. LUDWIG Wow. STEPHEN You have all five of the top five CD’s in the combined charts. “The Most Relaxing Beethoven Music Ever,” “More of the Most Relaxing Beethoven Music Ever,” “A Weekend In Bed With Beethoven,” “Great Symphonies for Snoozing,” and “Baby’s Sleeping With Beethoven.” Which title seems, even to a professional vulgarian such as myself, somewhat lacking in taste. LUDWIG What is that noise? STEPHEN The big agencies were the driving force behind developing time travel. You gotta figure an organization that can make Adam Sandler a star can accomplish just about anything. (Looking off.) Here she comes. Stephen goes into his pose. Ludwig snatches up the menu. The Waitress enters. LUDWIG I have a few questions. WAITRESS Tonight’s remaining specials are the meat. LUDWIG Two meats then. WAITRESS And how would you like those meats? LUDWIG What are my choices? WAITRESS You can either have it nearly raw the way the chef likes to serve it or you can have it some other way and have him sneer at you. LUDWIG For me, I think, just another beer. WAITRESS And what about for your friend with the hot pockets? He seems to be pretty good with the chewing thing. What exactly are the parameters of his disability? You know what I think? I think you can do anything you want to do. I think you can eat and fuck and whatever, and the whole paralyzed thing and the voice is just show business. Am I right? Well? STEPHEN (Speaker.) Thank you very much. This is like a miracle. I really didn't think I would ever have those kinds of feelings in my genital area again. You are one hot lady. And such a unique sense of humor. I’ll bet the camera loves you. We should get together again soon and discuss some possible ideas I have for a recurring character on my hugely popular WB comedy series “What the Fuck?” The Waitress glares at Beethoven. He shrugs and shakes his head. She looks back at Hawking and shakes her own head sorrowfully. Then she gets an idea. She takes the remainder of Beethoven’s beer and pours it deliberately into Hawking’s lap. He remains frozen. WAITRESS (Taking their check and tearing it up.) This one’s on me guys. You know, I don’t usually even like beer, but somehow that one was really satisfying. She drops the torn check deliberately onto Hawking’s unmoving head and leaves. STEPHEN Awww Christ, that’s nasty.He realizes she’s coming back and jumps into position again. LUDWIG I never thought of my music as relaxing.STEPHEN Yeah, well I never thought cosmology was a million laughs either.LUDWIG I always believed that music was a greater revelation even than art or philosophy. I wanted to strike fire from the heart of man and tears from the heart of woman.STEPHEN You are reading my email, bud. I worked so hard, Ludwig, for years, the equations, let me tell you, so complex, so unforgiving. I used to stare at those fucking numbers and sweat blood. I grappled with the raw data of reality and ripped out the secret patterns of existence like a bloody beating heart for all to see. I tried to share what I learned with the world. I turned to television. Of course at first it was public tv, which is to regular tv what airline meals are to food. But to my surprise, Ludwig, the world ate it up. A man came to me, an agent, and he showed me some numbers. I understand numbers, and let me tell you, these were great numbers. Do you know what a likeability quotient is? LUDWIG Not really. STEPHEN (Sitting again.) Of course not, you don’t understand cars yet, for fucks sake, or frozen food, but let me tell you, your LQ, it’s off the charts, Ludwig. (Sitting.) Have you seen “Friends?” LUDWIG No. STEPHEN “Everybody Loves Raymond?” LUDWIG I haven’t—STEPHEN What the fuck have you been doing in your hotel room, Ludwig, READING? LUDWIG Mostly I’ve been listening to things. STEPHEN What, radio, CDs? Music? LUDWIG Noises mostly, the cars, people talking in the hall. I opened the window. It was very difficult to open the window. Why would anyone make it so difficult to get the window open? STEPHEN Because people would jump out the window. LUDWIG Really? STEPHEN Or fall to their deaths. LUDWIG That’s stupid. STEPHEN There are a lot of stupid people in the world now. Things have changed. Believe me, it’s not unreasonable for the proprietors of your hotel to anticipate a certain number of people either hurling themselves eight floors to their deaths intentionally or just stumbling out without thinking. (Pause.) So what we’re planning is a recurring guest spot this season and if things work out you’re a regular cast member next season. You live upstairs, you work on your music all the time, yadayadayada, and lots of deaf jokes. LUDWIG But I can hear again. I hear fine now. STEPHEN And I can walk and use my weenie. The point is, it’s funny, the chair, the voice, people eat it up, the wacky situations. You’re gonna be just deaf enough to hear things funny, get everything mixed up. LUDWIG I don’t know how comfortable I’d be with that. STEPHEN Well how comfortable do you think you’re going to be deaf again with nothing but dinosaurs for company because that’s you choice here. The William Morris Agency will stick you so far back in time the sun will be a different color. You can either be a recording star with a recurring guest spot on the most popular TV show in the world or you can be a nameless hunk of lunch meat for giant reptiles and not even be able to appreciate your own dying screams. The choice is yours. LUDWIG That’s harsh. STEPHEN And you’re going to love being a star, let me assure you. The girls, the parties, the abject worship of the masses! Here’s another quantum law for you. Either you’re somebody or you’re nobody. A star or a black hole. A hero or lunch meat. That’s entertainment, my friend. There is a moment while they look into each other’s eyes. Suddenly Hawking returns to his frozen position. Beethoven looks around. The Waitress enters, abject. WAITRESS I’d like to apologize, Dr. Hawking. I guess I’m sort of a book person so I didn’t exactly realize—well, I, uh, I don’t really watch television. I’m sorry is all, for the beer, and the, uh, attitude. I was over the line there. My manager wants to comp the two of you for the rest of the evening. If you’d like I’d be glad to take you to a private room we have available for VIPs. I’d be glad to carry you there. On my knees if necessary. And just generally kiss your ass and get things out of your pockets all night. STEPHEN (From the speaker.) Did you realize that our universe is only one of an infinite number of alternatives? Everything that can possibly happen will happen, in one or another iteration of reality. It follows that there is a universe where you and I make crazy passionate love. Isn’t that crazy? Isn’t that wonderful? But there’s no arguing with the math. I could show you but then I’d have to kill you. What the fuck! Ha ha ha ha ha. WAITRESS I guess that means yes. She unhooks his speaker, picks him up, struggles to get the speaker too, then starts off. WAITRESS If you want to wait, I can come back and carry you too. LUDWIG Well, that’s awfully nice of you, really, but I’m afraid I can’t possibly MARRY you, I have several previous engagements in the romantic period. She looks at him for a moment, thinking, then shakes her head and carries Hawking off. Beethoven follows. WAITRESS Yeah, what the fuck. End of Play.
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