Setting: Driftsville, NY
Time: Summer 2008
Curtain opens on a stage containing Margaret, seated center on a folding chair. Stan is behind her, back to the audience waving his arms like a conductor as Margaret speaks. She faces the audience with her hands folded on her lap. Her expression should remain calm all through, while Stan's gestures match the heat of her statements. She starts her statements without emotion and gradually builds up to a near-shout.
Margaret: Sometimes things happen entirely too quickly. A glance turns into a word and a word turn into a conversation and a conversation turns into something much more serious. One doesn't always want it to happen. One wants things to move slowly sometimes and gradually and smoothly with easy, discernible steps. Sometimes all I really want is something transparent. A house of glass. I don't have any rocks. I don't. I don't want any rocks. I want a house of glass with inflatable furniture and paper plates, nothing to throw through, nothing to break the illusion. I want pillows everywhere and food that doesn't need cooking. Nothing hard, nothing sharp. Nothing to shatter the house I've built and nothing to bring shards down on my neck and shoulders. I don't want to get cut again. I didn't want to get cut in the first place.
Margaret stands slowly, picks up her chair, and carries it to far stage left, while Stan gradually slows down his movements. When she puts her chair down and seats herself again he brings his arms slowly to his side and turns around to face the audience. He makes a puzzled expression at them, glances at Margaret, and exits stage right, passing between the entering Julie, with a purse, and Beatrice, who is carrying a small table. They move towards Margaret, with Julie between Beatrice and the audience. Whenever Julie is speaking, Beatrice is gesturing broadly. When they reach stage left, Beatrice moves forward and places the table in front of Margaret before resuming her position in the rear.
Julie while Beatrice waves: Hello, Maggie, how are you holding up?
Margaret: Sighs heavily and taps her fingernails on the table. What do you want, Julie? Why isn't Bea talking today?
Julie while Beatrice shrugs broadly: Oh, I don't know. You know how she is. Decides she wants to do something and all the walls in the world couldn't stop her from doing it. One day she decides she'd desperately love to be a giraffe (Beatrice mimes her neck growing much longer) the next she decides she'd very much enjoy dying. (Beatrice lies on the ground for a few moments while Julie and Margaret watch her, then stands self-consciously) Of course, she never became a giraffe, and thank goodness she never followed through with that dying idea (Beatrice gives Julie a sharp, hurt glance) but I'm sure the creativity is good for her anyways.
Margaret: Stands and moves in between Julie and Beatrice, farther stage right, with her hands held behind her back. She walks slowly and carefully, every step sharply punctuated against the ground, before arriving several steps beyond the girls, when she turns back towards them. When do you think she'll start talking again?
Julie: Moves to sit in Margaret's seat, placing purse on the table. Beatrice moves behind her and begins to make faces at the audience, give Julie rabbit ears, etc. Hopefully never! She seems much more interesting when she's a mime, doesn't she? Beatrice flicks the back of her head and she starts, turning towards Beatrice and starting a silent, animated lecture for a few seconds.
Margaret: Tapping her foot. Are you two quite done yet?
Julie: Turns back towards Margaret apologetically. I'm sorry, she's just so rude sometimes.
Margaret: I'm sure it's not your fault.
Julie: But I can still try to help the situation! Anyways, that hurt.
Margaret: Some things hurt worse.
Julie: That's not the point!
Margaret: I need to go.
Julie: Sitting up straighter, attentive. Oh? Where to?
Margaret: I need to find somewhere to live.
Julie: I thought you lived with Stan?
Margaret: Not anymore. I'm moving out.
Julie: My! Did you break up?
Margaret: I would have said so if I did. I'm just moving out.
Margaret picks up Julie's purse and exits stage right. Julie turns in the chair, kneeling on it, to gossip silently to Beatrice. A few moments after Margaret leaves Stan enters from the same direction carrying a flashlight. He shines the flashlight towards the roof, towards the back wall, towards the audience, everywhere except at Julie and Beatrice who continue their one-way discussion. He turns and begins to walk backwards, the flashlight pointed towards stage right, until he bumps into Julie, upon which he screams girlishly, drops the flashlight, and turns around, picking it up quickly and shining it into Beatrice's sullen face.
Julie: Turning angrily. I beg your pardon!
Stan: Julie! Bea! What are you doing in this cave?
Julie: Cave? This isn't the cave.
Stan: It's not? Then why do I have this flashlight?
Julie: That's a stupid question.
Stan: It's not!
Julie: You're the only one that would know the answer. She stands and gets in Stan's face. Why do you have that flashlight? This obviously isn't the cave; it's too well lit.
Stan: I thought it was fungus.
Stan: Yes, glowing fungus.
Julie: There's not such thing!
Stan: There is!
Julie: Suddenly coy. Did you break up with Mags?
Stan: Taken by surprise. No!
Julie: She's moving out now.
Stan: She's what? When?
Julie: Now. I told you that.
Stan: Did she say why?
Stan drops his flashlight and begins pacing back and forth, his hands moving as he counts through the possible reasons. Julie follows behind him listening intently, and Beatrice idly follows Julie, kicking invisible pebbles across the stage.
Stan: She moved when she thought I was caving? What does that mean, what does that mean… But we're not breaking up! We're in love, damn it. Maybe she thinks I'm too clingy. Maybe she thinks my feet smell. Maybe she just wants more space? But she doesn't have enough things. Oh dear, oh dear. Maybe she's met someone else! He stops suddenly in a position of revelation (hand raised, finger in the air, or pounding his hand with his fist). Julie runs into him, Beatrice runs into Julie, he stumbles forward, ruining his pose. Stop following me!
Julie: The circles you're going in, I'm hard-pressed to. Maybe she's moving in with her parents.
Julie: Slowly. With her parents. Maybe her mother is sick? Or her father. His heart's never been too strong, I fear.
Stan: Where did she go?
Julie: That way. Points stage right, as does Beatrice.
Stan: Should I follow her?
Julie: Don't. I'll go ask her what's going on. She goes to pick up the flashlight. Beatrice picks up the chair. Both exit stage right, leaving Stan puzzled where he is. Beatrice runs back on stage (sans chair), kisses Stan on the cheek, and runs back off stage, miming giggling, leaving Stan even more confused before. He walks slowly over to the table and half-heartedly kicks it over.
Enter Cassius stage left, carrying an easel and a box of paints. He passes Stan, who is staring at the kicked-over table, and move to stage right where he opens the easel and sets it up, takes out his paints, and begins painting intently.
Stan: I don't know what's going on. Yesterday she told me she wanted to be with me forever. She said she wanted to die with me. And today she's moving out. There's no possible way she could have stopped loving me so soon. He starts to pace.
Cassius: Please stand still.
Stan: Oh? Sorry, Cass. He stands still. What if it was all lies? What if the past few years have been just lies on lies on lies. She always told me she was honest – honest! She said she wanted to be so open, so completely open, but if she was open she wouldn't be moving out, would she? I was going to ask her to marry me eventually. I've wanted to, I have, but with all the problems going on with everyone else I never got around to it. I wanted everyone around us to be stable so the wedding could be happy.
Cassius: You worry about things too much.
Stan: I know. I know that. She knows that, too. She never had a problem with it. She never said anything, anyways. And she was usually so good about telling me when she had problems. It never felt like work changing for her. I can't let her go this easily. I can't. This is stupid. It's stupid! If she wants to leave I should just let her.
Cassius: Begins to put away his paints. You aren't that easily defeated, Stan. I know that. I bet she knows it too.
Stan: You think I should go after her?
Cassius: Of course. It'd be stupid not to.
Stan: It feels stupid to go after her.
Cassius: Finishing putting away his paints. That's probably stupid too.
Stan: You're right. He and Cassius walk to each other and embrace for only a moment. Thanks man, thanks a lot. You've always given me good advice. Same time tomorrow?
Cassius: Of course.
Stan: Next time we'll be in the cave?
Cassius: We're in the cave.
Stan: Beatrice and Julie were confused.
Cassius: They usually are.
Stan exits stage right, grabbing the easel and paints on the way out. Cassius goes stage left and rights the table, moving it to stage center. A moment after Stan has exited, Margaret enters stage left carrying a small vase with flowers in it. She moves towards the table a little sheepishly. Cassius glances at her and nods.
Cassius: Hello, Margaret.
Margaret: Hi, Cassius.
Cassius: Those are pretty flowers. Do you want to put them on the table?
Margaret: That's what I brought them in for. Thank you for helping me move.
Cassius: My pleasure.
Margaret: Moves to the table and puts the flowers in the center. There, that brightens it up a bit.
Cassius: It really does.
Margaret: Did Stan send you?
Cassius: No. He's looking for you right now. I didn't tell him where you were.
Margaret: Why not?
Cassius: I don't want you to hurt him.
Margaret: A little shocked. Hurt him? Why would I hurt him?
Cassius: Turning and walking a few steps away from the table and Margaret. Margaret, he's very confused right now.
Margaret: A little guilty. I know. I know that. I would be too, if I were him.
Cassius: He doesn't know why you moved at him.
Margaret: I don't know either! I don't. I just had to. I had to. Can you understand that?
Cassius: No, but I don't have to.
Margaret: He does.
Margaret: I need to talk to him.
Margaret: Do you know where he is?
Cassius: No. He bolted off in a panic looking for you, remember? He went where he thought you'd be, I suppose.
Margaret: Oh. Yes.
Cassius: Are you going to go look for him?
Margaret: Pause. I don't think the flowers really fit.
Cassius takes the flowers from the vase. Margaret picks up the vase and exits stage left. A moment later Stan enters stage right, frantic and goes to Cassius.
Cassius: Stan, here.
Cassius gives Stan the flowers and a piece of paper.
Stan: What's this? I don't know what this is, Cass.
Cassius: It's Margaret's address, Stan. And some flowers to give to her.
Stan: Angry. You knew where she lives and you didn't tell me?
Cassius: I just found out from Julie. You should go see her.
Stan: Relieved. Yeah. Yeah, I should, Cassius. What should I say?
Cassius: I don't know.
Cassius picks up the table and exits stage right. Stan begins to pace back and forth, with long strides, pantomiming practicing what he's going to say to Margaret. While he's pacing, he's not paying attention and Beatrice enters stage right. She stands there until Stan approaches her, seemingly offering her the flowers and nearly runs into her.
Beatrice mimes "For me?"
Stan: Ah! Oh! Bea. I didn't see you there.
She mimes "For me?" again.
Stan: Oh. No, Bea, they're not for you. I'm practicing what I'm going to say to Margaret.
Beatrice pouts and stamps her foot.
Stan: Fine, Bea, you can have one.
He pulls one of the flowers from the bouquet and hands it to Beatrice. She is delighted and claps her hands and dances a little.
Stan: Do you think Margaret is mad at me?
Beatrice shakes her head vehemently no.
Stan: Do you think she's breaking up with me?
Beatrice continues to shake her head.
Stan: Why do you think she left?
Beatrice shrugs expansively, turns on her heel, and exits stage right. Margaret enters stage left, carrying the vase. She pointedly ignores Stan, who stands where he is unsuccessfully trying to say something. She puts the vase on the table and stands up straight, looking at Stan.
Stan: I brought these for you. He steps forward, holding out the flowers.
Margaret. Thank you. She takes the flowers, and puts them in the vase.
Stan: They make it a little brighter, I think.
Margaret: Yes, they do.
Stan: Why'd you leave?
Margaret: I don't know. Pause. Did we move too fast?
Stan: Too fast for what?
Margaret: For ourselves! For ourselves. I mean, we were dating a few days after we met each other, remember?
Stan: I remember. I didn't think it was too fast. It felt right.
Margaret: Yes, it did, at the time. It felt right. But now it feels wrong.
Stan: Distraught. Are we breaking up?
Margaret: No! Stan, no. She moves to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. I still love you, you know that.
Stan: I- I wasn't sure. You left so suddenly, and you didn't tell me.
Margaret: I want to meet again.
Margaret: Steps away from Stan, walking over to smell the flowers. Stan follows a few steps behind. Again. I want to start over. I want to flirt. I want to crush on you and I want to be unsure whether you like me or not.
Stan: You know I love you!
Margaret: Turning back to Stan. I do. I do know that. But can we pretend? Can we start over?
Stan: I'm not that good an actor.
Margaret: I don't want to act! I want it to be real.
Stan: No, I can't do that.
Stan: I can't pretend I don't love you. I can't. It's too real to me, I'm too certain. Not acting on it would kill me.
Stan: Is there something you want to change?
Margaret: I don't know. I think so.
Stan: We can change it.
Margaret: I don't know if that'll work. We're in too much of a rut right now. We'll try to change, and then we'll fail, and we'll fall right back into the same pit we're in right now. Why don't we talk anymore?
Stan: What are we doing right now?
Margaret: Talking, and I love it, but this is the first time in weeks.
Stan: Is it?
Margaret: Yes. Yes it is. Remember how much we talked when we first met?
Stan: Thoughtful. Yes. We stayed up to watch the sunrise, just talking.
Margaret: How can we get that back without starting over?
Stan: We can try. I'll try.
Margaret: Thank you, Stan. I kind of really need this right now.
Stan: So I guess I'll see you around?
Stan turns to leave towards stage right.
Margaret: Smiling. Try to be a stranger.
Stan laughs and exits stage right. Margaret, still smiling, pulls one of the flowers out of the vase and exits stage left.
Time: Summer 2006
Scene opens on three chairs, center stage, set side by side, Margaret seated on the one furthest stage right, Stan seated on the one furthest stage left. Margaret has her hands folded in her lap and is facing the audience. Stan fidgets, crosses his legs, uncrosses them, looks around, leans forward, looks towards stage left, occasionally glancing at Margaret but never for long. A few moments pass before they begin to speak.
Margaret: Stands, with her hands still clasped. Aside. I kept wondering, was he going to talk to me? He was handsome; I noticed that off the bat. Terrifically handsome. He had a chin like a Greek statue. He had deep eyes, too, really dark with expressive brows. I didn't know if he was going to talk to me but I wanted him to. I wanted him to.
Stan: Stands and paces. Aside. How was I supposed to talk to her? Random guy coming out of nowhere and sitting next to her on a bus stop bench – wouldn't it be creepy if I started acting all familiar? I've never been good at that line, the one between creepy and friendly, and I've always worried that where I'd always thought I was outgoing other people thought I was just being rude. So if I said hi or complimented her on her scarf or something like that she might take it for face value and think it was just small talk or she might think I was hitting on her. How forward is too forward?
Both return to their previous activities for a few moments.
Stan: To Margaret. The bus is taking longer than usual.
Margaret: Without turning. Yes. Yes it is.
Margaret: Aside. Was that just small talk? I don't think he's interested. He didn't sound interested. He was probably just being polite. Small talk. If I asked him his name I'd be assuming too much! Far too much. But I want to know his name so badly. So badly. This is killing me.
Margaret leans over to her side of the bench and begins to play with a few pieces of invisible detritus next to her. Stan turn towards her again and begins to say something but sees her facing away from him and closes his mouth quickly. He swings his legs over to his side of the bench and begins to kick at the ground while drumming on his thighs. Margaret glances over her shoulder at him and, seeing his back, turns back to her garbage. Both visibly make up their minds and turn to each other.
Stan and Margaret at the same time: What's your name?
Stan stammers a second and Margaret laughs nervously.
Stan: I'm Stan.
Margaret: Just Stan?
Margaret: Are you a Stanley?
Stan: No, just Stan.
Margaret: I'm Maggie.
Stan: Laughs a little. Just Maggie?
Margaret: No, it's short for Margaret.
Stan: Margaret is a really nice name.
Margaret: Thank you.
Stan: Is it all right if I call you that?
Margaret: What, Margaret?
Margaret: No one else does.
Stan: Smiles. So that'd make me special?
Margaret: I guess it would. Sure. You can call me Margaret. If you'd like.
Stan: I'd love to.
Margaret: Stands abruptly. Oh! The bus is here.
Stan: This is your bus?
Margaret: Yes, why?
Stan: This isn't my bus.
Margaret: Oh! All right. I'll see you later.
Margaret picks up the chair she was sitting in and crosses to stage right. On her way out she turns and waves a little to Stan.
Margaret smiles and exits.
Stan: That went… well. That went well. Better than I expected. She asked for my name, too. She asked for my name. That's a good sign.
He stands and separates the chairs, cheating them towards each other, before standing in between them.
Stan: I didn't know what to expect. If I was going to expect anything. I'd never seen her before, anywhere. My bus wasn't coming for another half hour; I just thought it seemed like a nice morning to go out and wait early, maybe read a little. I would have read, too, if I hadn't been so distracted. I was terribly distracted. She was terribly distracting. So I didn't end up reading anything. After she left I just sort of sat there going through the conversation in my mind. Ten, twenty, thirty times. Before I knew it the bus I was so early for arrived and I left for work. Work was so long. I couldn't concentrate on anything.
Stan sits on the stage right chair and crosses his legs. Cassius enters, stage left, carrying a notebook and pen. He crosses behind Stan and taps him on the shoulder. Stan turns and Cassius hands him the pen and notebook, bowing exaggeratedly. He then takes the other chair and exits stage left. Stan begins writing on the notepad on his lap. He begins to write more and more slowly as time passes until he stops entirely with the pen resting on the bottom of the page.
Travis enters stage left and crosses behind Stan, looking over his shoulder at what's on the page. He leans in close to Stan's head.
Stan starts and drops the notebook on the ground and the pen, which rolls away. He drops to his knees and scrambles after the pen while Travis takes his seat. Stan catches the pen and turns around, seating himself on the floor.
Stan: Oh! Travis. I didn't hear you come in.
Travis: Hey man, this is a really comfortable seat. Why didn't you tell me your job had such comfortable seats?
Stan: Ah… You asked?
Travis: No I didn't, but if you were any kind of cousin you would have told me anyways.
Stan: Stands. Well, I didn't think you'd ever be in here. You didn't really need to know.
Travis: Laughs. If I had known, I would have visited you before. That's probably why you didn't tell me.
Stan: No! No. It's fine if you visit. Why would I not want you to visit?
Travis: I don't know. You all right?
Stan: Yeah. Yeah, Trav, I'm fine.
Travis: Leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. Normally you'd make some sort of crack about not wanting me to visit you.
Stan: Turns away from Travis and laughs nervously. Yeah, I guess that's true. Normally I would.
Travis: So are you all right?
Stan: Begins to walk away from Travis towards stage left. Yeah, Trav, I'm fine. I'm just a little distracted.
Travis: You get laid?
Stan: Startled, drops the pen again, which rolls over towards Travis. He turns back towards Travis. No! No. No. No. I didn't. Jesus. No, Travis. I didn't get laid.
Travis: It's a fair question. He sits up and leans back in the chair with his arms over the back. I'm usually worthless for a couple days after I get laid.
Stan: Jesus Travis. I didn't want to know that.
Travis: Then you shouldn't have asked.
Stan: I didn't –
Travis stands suddenly, bends over, picks up the notebook and tosses it to Stan, who fumbles the catch and drops it.
Travis: Well, I'd better get going. Don't worry; I'll come back sometime to steal your chair again.
Stan: I wasn't worried.
Travis: Catch you later, man!
Stan bends over to pick up his notebook. While he's down, Travis quickly grabs the chair and makes a hasty exit Stage Right. Stan stands again.
Stan: Travis! I need my chair. Oh. Damn it.
Defeated, Stan goes over to where the chair was to pick up his pen. He sits on the ground after retrieving it and begins to write in the notebook again, more energetically this time. He looks up at the stage left wall every once in awhile and then returns to his notebook. After a few moments Cassius enters stage left and looks down at Stan.
Stan: Startled again. Oh! Cassius. Hi.
Cassius: Stan, why are you sitting on the floor.
Stan: Travis stole my chair.
Stan: He can run really fast if he wants to! Really.
Cassius: I see.
Stan: Really fast.
Cassius: Stan, it's five o'clock.
Stan: Is it really?
Cassius crosses over to Stan and reaches down with his hand. Stan reaches up and Cassius pulls him to his feet.
Cassius: Yes, it really is. I am adept at telling time.
Stan: Looks up at the stage left wall again. Damn, you're right.
Cassius: Come on. Let's go. We'll miss the bus if you take too long.
Stan: I think I'm going to stay a little while longer. I zoned out for awhile and I need to catch up a little on this work.
Cassius: Suit yourself.
Cassius exits stage left. Stan remains seated on the floor writing a few moments. Cassius re-enters, carrying a chair.
Stan: I thought you left?
Cassius: I did. I brought you a chair.
Stan: Oh! Thank you.
Cassius places the chair stage center and Stan stands and sits in it.
Stan: That's much better. Thanks, Cass.
Cassius: Don’t come home too late.
Stan: I'll try not to. Thanks again.
Cassius exits stage left and Stan, seated, continues to write in the notebook. Eventually he stands, closes the notebook with the pen in it, puts the notebook on the seat, and moves the seat a step towards stage right. He sits again, on the notebook, and puts his hands in his lap, folded. Margaret enters, stage left, carrying her chair. She looks around the stage, all over, and then sees Stan. She hurries over and places her chair next to his. She crosses behind him and to the other side of his seat.
Stan: Looks up at her. Oh! Margaret. Hi. I didn't know you rode this bus.
Margaret: This is my normal bus. I didn't know you rode it.
Stan: Oh! Right. Right. I stayed late to work on… to work on something. I guess this would be a bus that is not mine.
The sound of a bus starting to move. Margaret lurches slightly.
Margaret: Oh! Do you mind if I sit down?
Stan: Oh! Oh, no, sorry. Stan stands and Margaret passes in front of him to the chair she just put down, brushing Stan lightly as she does so. She sits, and Stan sits again.
Margaret: It's so strange that we've never met each other before.
Stan: Is it?
Margaret: We use the same bus stop.
Stan: I was there early today.
Margaret: Oh! Why?
Stan: I don't know. I just felt like sitting out there early today.
Margaret: Smiles at him. I'm glad you did.
Stan: Nervously. Er. Yes. Yeah. I'm glad I did too.
Margaret: You should get up early tomorrow, too.
Margaret: Oh yes. Definitely. Waiting for the bus is so much more interesting with someone to talk to. I hate sitting out there by myself in the morning; it's so dull. You can help keep me entertained.
Stan: I'm… I'm glad I can be useful.
Margaret: You are useful. Very.
Margaret: Oh! The bus stopped. Are we there already?
Stan: No; this is Quaker Street. We've got a couple more stops to go. How long have you ridden this bus?
Margaret: Three years.
Stan: Laughs. And you don't know when your stop is?
Margaret: I guess I just wasn't going to pay attention. I-- I think I'm going to get off here and walk the rest of the way.
Stan: That's a long ways.
Margaret: I know, but it's such a nice day. I think I'm going to do it anyways.
Stan: Do you want me to—
Margaret: Yes, if that's alright.
Stan: Oh. What? I was asking if you wanted me to get out of the way.
Margaret: Oh! I thought you were asking to come with me.
Stan: I guess that works too.
Margaret: Stands. Come on! It's such a nice day. It's a wonderful day to take a walk.
Stan: Yes. It really is.
Stan stands too; the two exit stage left. Curtain.
Time: Summer 2007
Scene opens on a pair of seats cheated towards each other with a small table in between. Seated stage left is Travis, while Cassius is leaning on the back of the stage right chair. Travis is miming reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. Cassius is tapping his foot impatiently and occasional checks his watch. Travis turns the page periodically.
Travis: I guess they're building an addition to the library.
Cassius: Uh huh.
Travis turns the page.
Cassius: Where is he.
Travis: He said he had to pick Maggie up before he came over. You know that. She probably just had to run an errand or something.
Cassius: Turning and leaning over the back of the chair. It's been ten minutes!
Travis: Miming putting down the newspaper and coffee mug. Ten minutes isn't so long.
Cassius: It's too long. Way too long. He was always early before, remember? He was always punctual, at the very least. He was never late to anything. He would usually be here waiting for us, and today… Today, he's ten minutes late.
Travis: Things change. You don't see me complaining when Sam isn't here.
Cassius: Dismissively. Sam doesn't do anything with us. Sam has his own friends and you only see him when you go home at night.
Travis: Well, yeah, but I guess it'd be nice if he'd come out and hang out with us once in awhile.
Cassius: But people get so… so lame when they start dating! Look at Stan. Before he met Margaret he would always do things with us. He'd come out to parties with us, or to the bars, or something. He could always be bothered to at least grab a cup of coffee with us on Sundays. This is a regular thing! This is a part of his schedule. We've been doing this all year and today he decides to be late. It shouldn't even be something he has to think about. Coming around the chair and sitting. It's like Margaret's sucked everything out of him that makes him fun to be around.
Travis: I don't think that's true.
Cassius: Remember how sarcastic he used to be? He used to mean to people. We could depend on him to at least be entertaining. If someone cut in front of us at a show he would tear their ear off. I'm not loud enough to do it, and you never really cared. But ever since Margaret and him got together he just lets people cut! He's changed. For the worse, I think.
Travis: He's nicer to people and happier and you think it's for the worse?
Cassius: He's less entertaining.
Travis: Grabs Cassius' hand and looks at his watch. Fifteen minutes. That's a little later than it probably should be.
Travis: If he's not here in five minutes I'll call him.
Cassius: Why don't you call him right now?
Travis: Fifteen minutes is worrying, but it's not worrying enough to bother him. How is living with him?
Cassius: I think he's going to move out.
Travis: Really? What are you going to do?
Cassius: I guess I have to find a new roommate.
Travis: I'd offer to let you come live with me and Sam, but…
Cassius: Yeah, I know. I like you and Sam and all, but I don't think I'd be too comfortable.
Travis: People might talk.
Cassius: People always talk.
Travis: True. But you don't need people talking about you when you're not doing anything. No point in fanning rumors.
Cassius: You should call Stan.
Travis: It hasn't been five minutes.
Cassius: You should call Stan.
Travis: Fine, fine, fine. Do you have fifty cents?
Cassius: Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a couple of quarters. Sponge.
Travis: Thanks, Cass. Travis stands and exits stage left.
Cassius: Standing and facing the audience, speaking in their direction without actually speaking to them. I don't like Margaret. I know she makes Stan happy and that's fine, that's wonderful and everything, but I don't like her. Something about her makes me not trust her. Reaches behind him and mimes picking up Stan's coffee mug. I don't think she likes him. Mimes sipping and makes a face. Travis puts too much cream in his coffee. Mimes putting the mug back down. I don't really know anything about Margaret. No one does. Bea might, Bea seems to know everyone, but she's playing dead so I can't find her to ask her. Julie claims to know her "dark past," but Julie claims to know a lot of things that she doesn't actually know. Julie thinks she knows things about me. She's told me about these things. She says "I know all about you, Cassius" and then she tells me what she "knows," but it's all made up. I don't trust Julie. Travis might know something, Stan might have told him, but he wouldn't tell me if he did. He's loyal. Very loyal. Does Stan even know anything about Margaret? He won't say. I've asked him about her and all he seems to know is what she's like right now. He doesn't know anything about her past. Cassius turns and goes to the stage left seat and sits down. He picks up the invisible newspaper and opens to it to a random page. I don't trust her. He begins to read. Travis enters from stage left.
Cassius puts the newspaper down and turns in the chair.
Travis: We need to go help Stan.
Travis: Just come on, we need to go help him.
Cassius stands and follows Travis off stage left. Right away, Stan enters stage right and proceeds to kick over the table and two chairs. He bends down to pick up the stage right chair and Cassius and Travis enter stage left.
Cassius: Stan, what are you doing?
Stan: Stands up, leaving chair on the ground. Cassius! I'm glad you're here. I need your help.
Cassius: To do what?
Stan: Move out! I'm moving in with Margaret. Isn't that great?
Cassius: You could have given me more warning.
Stan: I told you I was thinking about it, didn't I?
Cassius: Yes, you told me you were thinking about doing it in the future. You did not mention that you were planning on moving out today. You did not mention anything about moving out before I could find someone else to move in. This is very, very inconvenient, Stan.
Stan: I'm sorry, but it seemed like it was the right thing to do. I thought it was a little quick too, but Maggie said—
Travis: I'll just start moving stuff out. Travis picks up the stage left chair and hurries off stage left.
Cassius: I don't care what Maggie said. She's just your girlfriend. I'm your roommate. I've been your roommate for the past five years and now you're moving out because of some woman. I don't like this, Stan.
Stan: I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd get this upset over it.
Cassius: I'm not upset. I'm disappointed.
Stan: You sound like my mother.
Cassius: I thought you were a more loyal friend than this. I guess I was wrong.
Cassius exits stage left; Stan starts to protest then stops, defeated. Travis re-enters.
Travis: Where's Cass?
Stan: You didn't see him on the way in? He left.
Travis: We could have used his help.
Stan: That doesn't matter. This sucks. I thought he'd be happier for me.
Travis: To be fair, it's tough to find a new roommate.
Stan: Yeah. I guess it might be.
Travis: You could try to find him another one.
Stan: I think I should just leave. Quickly.
Travis: I guess. You might know better.
Stan: I just wish he wouldn't get so pissy about things like this. Work is going to be awkward on Monday.
Travis: I'll come in and hang out for a bit.
Travis and Stan pick up the last chair and the table and exit stage left.