(IRA’s apartment. Give or take 11:20 PM. IRA is sitting on the couch, his girlfriend JILL is lying down with her head rested on his lap. They just finished watching a very long movie.)
IRA: Annnnnd... The end! Finally. Now that was an ordeal.
JILL: What? You didn’t like it?
IRA: What was your first hint?
JILL: I thought you liked war movies.
IRA: You call that a war movie?
JILL: Well, it took place during the Second World War, and it was a movie, so... yeah.
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight. We’re following the lives of roughly eight people, and of those eight people the only two who live to see 1946 are Ryan Reynolds and what’s-her-name from Terminator 3...
JILL: Claire Danes.
IRA: Right. Ryan Reynolds and Claire Danes are the only two people who survived the war, which is just perfect because they were in love back in 39, but he was sent to the German front the day before their wedding. But everything’s okay now that they’re reunited and can live happily ever after, despite the fact that everyone that they know is dead and that his army pension won’t last him ‘til age forty. But at least they have each other. Please?
JILL: Ya know, it’s based on a true story.
IRA: Based on a true story. That’s adorable. That only means that “yes, there was a Second World War”, everything else is made up. Based on a true story. I’ve slapped that label on tons of my plays.
JILL: And how many of those plays have you sold?
IRA: Wow. Below the belt, much?
JILL: Sorry, that was uncalled for.
IRA: Anyway, think about it like this. What if Ryan Reynolds had died and the only two survivors were Claire Danes and James Franco? Would the two of them have gotten married in the end?
JILL: No!
IRA: Why not?
JILL: She wouldn’t marry her fiancé’s best friend just because he died. She’d devote her life to the church before doing that.
IRA: Well that would be pretty selfish of her.
JILL: Becoming a nun would be selfish?
IRA: Yeah. As the last surviving female, it’s her duty to ensure the reproduction of mankind. If James Franco is the only living male... well, beggars can’t be choosers.
JILL: Wait a minute; you do realize that being the only survivors of a group of eight characters isn’t the same thing as being the only survivors in the whole world? You do know that, right?
IRA: Hello, it’s called a microcosm.
JILL: Do you even know what that means?
IRA: Of course I do. Have you ever even read any of my plays?
JILL: Could we please just drop it?
IRA: If you want to. You know that I can argue about this for weeks.
JILL: Alright then, let’s drop it.
IRA: It’s your call.
JILL: I’m sorry that you didn’t like the movie.
IRA: Yeah, last time I let you pick. We should have rented The Hurt Locker again.
JILL: You’re seen that movie twelve times.
IRA: And it’s yet to disappoint. Now that’s a war movie.
(JILL says nothing.)
IRA: Would you mind taking the disk out?
JILL: Why can’t you do it?
IRA: Well if I get up we both have to get out of our comfy positions. If you get up only one of us has to. That’s utilitarianism 101.
JILL: Or we can leave the disk in until morning so that we can both be comfy now.
IRA: Damn you’re smart.
JILL: What time is it?
IRA: Four hours after we started the movie.
JILL: Which is?
IRA: (looking at the clock) 11:26. You wanna watch Leno?
JILL: Nah. Turn it to the news.
IRA: The news?
JILL: Yeah.
IRA: There’s only four minutes left.
JILL: So?
IRA: So we’ve missed all of the important stories already.
JILL: So we’ll catch the last one.
IRA: The last one’s just filler. If it was important they would have gotten to it earlier.
JILL: Can we just watch it please?
IRA: Whatever you say (changes channel). Might I remind you that we could have been watching this from the beginning if you had picked a shorter movie?
JILL: Shhh!
IRA: Okay.
(The next series on lines occurs on the TV and is being watched by IRA and JILL. It should not be seen on stage, only heard. It can be performed by either offstage actors or a pre-recorded tape. On stage action does not resume until IRA’s next line.)
NEWS ANCHOR: Yesterday’s conflict between the DeLiquor Diamond Cartel and the aboriginal communities of Northern Manitoba has been resolved. Yesterday, hundreds of First Nations peoples were evicted from their reservations and relocated communities all over Northwest Territories and Nunavut after the Diamond Cartel purchased their land from the Canadian government with the intention of opening several new mines in what they’ve classified to be prime mining real estate. This made the natives quite angry, and prompted a lot of discussion of pressing legal charges against both the Cartel and the Canadian government. A meeting was held today in Yellowknife between lawyers from all three parties. After no more than ten minutes of discussion, a settlement was reached. The Cartel will continue to hold ownership of their purchased lands, and the amount of reparations paid to the aboriginals has yet to be disclosed. In addition, representatives from DeLiquor have been spending the day traveling across the territories to personally apologize to everybody who was affected by this transition. A DeLiquor spokesman stated that this was not part of the settlement, but merely the least that they could do to make everything right. We now go to John Toobino in Hay River to meet with one of these natives now. John?
INTERVIEWER: I’m here with Rolling Oats, a Manitoba native and mother of six who was relocated to Hay River as a result of DeLiquor’s acquisition of several Northern Manitoba reservations. Moments ago representatives from the Cartel made a personal apology to her and her family. Mrs. Oats, how do you feel right now?
OATS: Oh, I am very great. Very happy. Yes.
INTEVIEWER: Is it true that you no longer hold any resentment against the DeLiquor Cartel for having acquired the land that was your home up until yesterday?
OATS: Oh no. The DeLiquor Company was very nice to us. They came and gave us a nice yet unnecessary apology, considering that the settlement had already been reached. Plus they brought all of these goodies for the children. Kids show all of your goodies to the camera.
INTERVIEWER: Well there you have it. What was once wrong has been made right by the kindness and compassion of the DeLiquor Diamond Cartel. John Toobino, CTV News, Hay River.
NEWS ANCHOR: Thank you John. Well that’s the news for today. Good night, and stay tuned for your local news, starting right now.
(IRA turns the TV off.)
IRA: See what I mean? Filler.
JILL: Oh come on. That was sweet and you know it.
IRA: Sweet? Sweet? What part of that was sweet?
JILL: What part of that wasn’t sweet?
IRA: How about all of it? There was nothing sweet about any of that.
JILL: You’re crazy. DeLiquor felt bad about having to evict the people living over their mine, so they made it up to them. They made everybody happy. That’s sweet.
IRA: Do you hear yourself? Did we not just watch the same story? What you call sweet, I call evil.
JILL: Evil? I know I’m going to regret saying this, but please justify your logic.
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight.
JILL: Here we go.
IRA: The Cartel buys the aboriginal land from the Canadian government without the consent of the aboriginal people, thus having to deport the aboriginal people to the only place in the country that’s colder than where they already were. I’m not even gonna touch the fact that this sounds suspiciously like Avatar. Then in an attempt to smooth everything over, they come by with a cheap apology and a DeLiquor tote bag for the kids. Yeah, that really makes up for everything. Plus the kids make sure to show the logo on the tote bag to the camera while their mother explains to the country what great people they are. But I’m sure that there was no product placement contract or bribe involved there. That would just be bananas! Please?
JILL: You know, if the whole playwright thing doesn’t work out, you could make a great living as a spin doctor.
IRA: Wouldn’t work. Companies don’t hire PR guys to see the worst in their methods of operations.
JILL: Too bad.
IRA: Plus they call themselves a “Cartel” for God’s sake. That should be the reddest of flags right there. They’ve probably got ties to drug trafficking and burning down South American villages.
JILL: It’s a Diamond Cartel, not a Drug Cartel. That’s two completely different kinds of Cartels.
IRA: Alright, what about Blood Diamonds? You know, Africa, guns, violence, warlords, Leo DiCaprio, all that stuff? The point is that you can’t trust the Cartels.
JILL: Do you even know what a Cartel is?
IRA: Do you?
JILL: I’m currently doing a masters in economics with a focus on Game Theory. I know literally everything about Cartels.
IRA: Good for you. Look, this isn’t about your education. This is about DeLiquor tricking society into thinking that they’re good people. People just make me sick sometimes.
JILL: Which people are you referring to exactly?
IRA: Both of ’em. DeLiquor makes me sick for their strategically revealed lack of moral integrity, and the Indians make me sick for falling for it. It’s just wrong.
(JILL get’s off of IRA’s lap and sits up next to him.)
JILL: (looking IRA in the eyes for the first time) You know what your problem is?
IRA: I’m too good-looking?
JILL: (fake laugh, broken by words) No. You my friend have no compassion.
IRA: Now that’s not true.
JILL: Yes it is.
IRA: No it’s not.
JILL: Okay Mr. PR, spin your way out of this one.
IRA: With pleasure. (Long pause while he thinks.)
JILL: Having trouble?
IRA: Not even slightly. All I know is that I’m full of compassion. I’m compassionate literally all the time.
JILL: Well then it shouldn’t be hard to think of an example.
IRA: An example?
JILL: Yeah. Cite a time when you’ve been compassionate and then I’ll totally believe you.
IRA: You’re on. (Pause to think) I’ve got it! Remember that day last summer when we went to the zoo?
JILL: Yeah... (Waits for IRA to continue) Go on.
IRA: Yeah, I have absolutely no idea where I was going with that.
JILL: Yeah, that’s what I thought.
IRA: Maybe I don’t have any compassion.
JILL: (tapping her nose twice) And do you have any idea why that is?
IRA: Because I’m an existentialist?
JILL: No. It’s because you’re cynical.
IRA: Pfft. Well I could have told you that.
JILL: Then why didn’t you?
IRA: (looking backwards) Is it still raining out there?
JILL: You know what this means, don’t you?
IRA: We’re gonna have to wear boots tomorrow?
JILL: I think we should break up.
(Silence. IRA is still looking backwards until turning towards JILL.)
IRA: I’m sorry, whatnow?
JILL: I think we should break up.
IRA: (shocked) What? Where did that come from?
JILL: Where did that come from? Where do you think that came from? What have we been talking about just now?
IRA: Well, let’s see. (Counting on his fingers) Your bad taste in crappy movies, the deceptive CSR of an evil Diamond Cartel, and whether or not I’m a terrible person. Not seeing the connection.
JILL: (disgusted) Uchk. (Gets up and walks towards the door.)
IRA: Jill, wait!
JILL: Wait for what?
IRA: Can’t we talk about this?
JILL: What’s there to talk about?
IRA: This!
JILL: There’s nothing to talk about.
IRA: There’s everything to talk about.
JILL: Well I’m done talking.
IRA: But I’m not.
JILL: So talk to yourself.
IRA: I’ve got the rest of my life for that. Talk to me now.
JILL: You realize that that’ll only prove my point further?
IRA: If that happens you can leave. I give you my blessing.
JILL: (thinking about it) Well...
IRA: Or I’ll tell you what. We both need a little time to calm down, so let’s talk about this in the morning.
JILL: In the morning?
IRA: Yes.
JILL: And by “morning”, you mean “after bed”?
IRA: That’s usually when the morning takes place.
JILL: Where are you going with this?
IRA: Whatever do you mean?
JILL: You know exactly what I mean. Where the hell do you get off suggesting anything to do with beds in a time like this?
IRA: Might I remind you that I wasn’t the one who mentioned beds. That was you.
JILL: Oh, you really missed your calling Dr. Spin, but I ain’t buying it.
IRA: But since you bring up the bed...
JILL: Don’t go there.
IRA: ’Twas one of the best aspects of our relationship.
JILL: Maybe for you it was.
IRA: Ouch.
JILL: I’m sorry. That was a little uncalled for.
IRA: Thanks... for proving my point.
JILL: What point?
IRA: We’re both talking out of anger. We say things that we don’t mean and then regret them later. We’re in no state to be making big decisions right now, so let’s talk this over in the morning once we’ve calmed down. Agreed?
JILL: Fine. But we’re still broken up for now. We’ll see if that changes by morning.
IRA: Why are you so eager to me single? Is there someone else?
JILL: Of course not.
IRA: Yeah, it was worth a shot.
JILL: Another thing. I’m spending the night in my own bed.
IRA: Whatever you want, it’s fine by me... Can I come too?
JILL: No!
IRA: Yeah, I didn’t think so. But you can’t blame me for trying.
JILL: You’d be surprised.
(Awkward pause.)
JILL: I guess I should get going. (Walks towards the door.)
IRA: Wait... At least wait for the rain to clear up.
JILL: (sighing) Fine. How long do you think that’ll take?
IRA: Love the enthusiasm.
(Phone rings. JILL sits down on couch.)
IRA: Excuse me for a moment. (Picks up phone) Hello... Oh, Hey Nige. What’s up? ... What? ... You’re kidding... No, I missed most of the news. I only caught the end of it... And you’re just calling me now? ... Where have you been this whole time? ... Oh, okay... Yeah sure, you can crash on my couch... Jill’s here, but she’s gonna leave when the rain stops... Huh, that could be a problem... You know what, don’t worry about it. We’ll work something out... Okay. See ya soon... Bye. (Hangs up.)
JILL: Something wrong?
IRA: That was Nigel. Turns out this isn’t just a little rain. It’s a full out hurricane.
JILL: A hurricane?
IRA: Yup. Hurricane Iago.
JILL: How did we not here about this sooner?
IRA: Gee, I dunno, maybe because you chose a four hour movie that caused us to miss most of the news. But fortunately it ended with enough time for us to catch that lovely piece on the Diamond Cartel which is now turning out to be the direct cause of my downfall!
JILL: Okay, calm down! What else did he say?
IRA: He said that there was some kind of big storm alert. Told everyone to stay indoors until further instructions.
JILL: (sarcastically) That’s just great.
IRA: It gets better. The aforementioned instructions won’t come until at least tomorrow morning.
JILL: Tomorrow morning?
IRA: At least.
JILL: Huh. (Long awkward pause) Well, I should get going. Talk to you in the morning.
IRA: Wait, you can’t leave.
JILL: You’d be surprised.
IRA: But... Iago. He’s out there. He’s a dangerous, tricky bastard. You can’t go out in that.
JILL: Well what’s the alternative?
IRA: Stay here until further instructions. You can take my bed.
JILL: And you’ll be on the couch, right?
IRA: (pause) Fine.
JILL: Worth a shot?
IRA: You know me too well.
JILL: Fine, I’ll stay here.
IRA: Great. Oh, one more thing, and it’s really minor. Nigel’s coming over to camp out here too.
JILL: What? Why?
IRA: He just got out of class when he saw the warning on the news, and my place is less of a commute than his. I told him that he could crash here until further instructions. That’s what friends do.
JILL: That’s it. I’m leaving.
IRA: What? Why?
JILL: Where do you plan on having him sleep?
IRA: Well, you know, on the couch... oh.
JILL: Yeah.
IRA: Okay, crazy thought...
JILL: No.
IRA: Okay then.
JILL: Should I just go then?
IRA: No. You’ll get the bed, and Nige and I can duke it out over the couch. One of us can sleep on the floor. It’s all good.
JILL: Okay then.
IRA: Please don’t leave.
JILL: I just said that I’ll stay.
IRA: I know.
JILL: Okay then. Are we good?
IRA: You tell me.
(JILL’s cell phone rings.)
JILL: Sorry, one second. (Picks up phone) Hello... Oh, hey Stacey... Been better, yourself? ... Yeah, I know... I actually just heard about it now... No, I missed most of the news... Ira and I rented a movie... Yeah, how did you know? ... Oh, it was so good... Ira didn’t like it. What else is new? ... Oh really? ... What? ... Oh that’s awful... Are you okay? ... Did you call the insurance company? ... Oh, right... Well, do you have a place to stay tonight? ... No, I’m at Ira’s right now... Not gonna risk going home until further instructions... Why don’t you come over here? ... No, don’t be silly, there’s plenty of room... Okay, it’s settled then... It’s 168 McCaul Street. Yeah, it’s the little apartment above the smoke shop. You can’t miss it. ... Okay, see you soon... Bye. (Hangs up) So we’ve got a bit of a situation.
IRA: (having just heard all of that) What was that about?
JILL: That was Stacey. Her apartment’s been flooded.
IRA: Uh huh. And...?
JILL: And... Is it okay if she stays here until further instructions?
IRA: Well, that depends. Is it too late for me to say no?
JILL: Oh, she’s my sister. What was I supposed to say?
IRA: You didn’t have to say that there’s plenty of room when you know that there isn’t. So where do we go from here? You’ll get the bed, Stacey will take the couch, and Nige and I can duke it out over the good part of the floor?
JILL: I’ll tell you what, Stacey can bunk with me. We shared a bedroom for years, this shouldn’t be too different.
IRA: Or... you and Stacey can duke it out over the couch, and Nigel and I can bunk together in there.
JILL: You’re kidding, right?
IRA: Why not? We once shared a dorm for eight months, this shouldn’t be too different.
JILL: So you’re saying that instead of possibly sleeping on the floor, you’d rather share a bed with your best friend, who’s male?
IRA: Well... Damnit!
JILL: That’s what I thought.
IRA: So, is there anything else that we need to work out?
JILL: I don’t think so.
IRA: Alright then.
(They both plop back down onto the couch, exhausted. They sit next to each other in awkward silence.)
IRA: So?
JILL: So what?
IRA: I dunno.
(They both turn their heads towards the door in anticipation, but nothing happens.)
IRA: So... we’re broken up now?
JILL: Yup.
IRA: Huh. (Awkward pause) Do you mind if I ask you something?
JILL: Shoot.
IRA: Now that I think about it, it’s not really a question. It’s really just something that I’ve always wanted to say to you, but never said because, well you know, we were dating, and I thought it might lead to a fight. But now that we’re broken up, what the hell? I might as well, unless of course...
JILL: Just say it!
IRA: Okay, (pause) here I go. (Clears throat) If the two of them were ever to get into a fight, Tennessee Williams would kick Adam Smith’s ass any day of the week.
JILL: What?
IRA: If Tennessee Williams and Adam Smith were to get in a fight, my boy would kick Smith’s ass.
JILL: (dumbfounded) Kick Smith’s ass?
IRA: Any day of the week, yes.
JILL: (almost speechless) That’s what you’ve always wanted to say to me?
IRA: Yes.
JILL: Why?
IRA: Whataya mean why?
JILL: I mean why why?
IRA: It’s just something that’s been on my mind for a while. Since the day we met to be exact.
JILL: So you’re saying that when we met and I told you that I was into economics, your first thought was that Tennessee Williams could beat Adam Smith in a fight?
IRA: Any day of the week, yes.
JILL: You’re insane.
IRA: Let me guess, you think that Smith could beat Williams?
JILL: What? No. This has nothing to do with that!
(Somebody knocks on the door to the tune of Shave and a Haircut.)
IRA: (yelling to the person on the other side of the door) Nige?!
NIGEL: (offstage, on the other side of the door) Yup!
IRA: (walking towards the door) Coming!
(IRA opens the door. NIGEL stands in the doorway, soaking wet.)
NIGEL: Wassup I’Rabot?
IRA: Not much, yourself?
(NIGEL walks in, takes his shoes off and puts his coat on the rack.)
NIGEL: Likewise. Hey Jill.
JILL: Hey Nigel.
(They all stand around in awkward silence.)
NIGEL: Was it something I said?
JILL: No, it was something that Ira said.
NIGEL: I don’t follow.
JILL: It’s nothing. You’re sort of catching us at a bad time, is all.
NIGEL: A bad time?
IRA: Yeah, we kind of just broke up.
NIGEL: (thrown off guard) What? You broke up? Dude? When did this happen?
IRA: Um, I dunno, about a few minutes before you called.
NIGEL: What? Really? What happened?
IRA: I have absolutely no idea. One minute everything was fine, and the next... well, you know.
JILL: Not really. It didn’t happen quite like that.
IRA: You’re right. I vaguely recall something about a Diamond Cartel coming in and ruining everything.
NIGEL: (confused) Diamond Cartel? Oh, did you guys hear about that thing with DeLiquor and the Indians?
JILL: As a matter of fact we did.
NIGEL: Wasn’t that sweet?
JILL: (turning towards IRA, all smug) Ha!
IRA: Sweet?! What was sweet about that?!
NIGEL: I dunno. Didn’t you see how happy those kids looked? That says a lot, considering that they were evicted from their homes less than twenty-four hours earlier.
IRA: What exactly does that say? That anybody can be bought? That all it takes is a tote bag?
NIGEL: Um... yes?
IRA: I weep for the future.
NIGEL: What’s so bad about DeLiquor trying to do the right thing?
IRA: That’s just it. They’re not trying to do the right thing. Instead they’re just manipulating the minds of all who stand in their way. They’re being trickier than ol’ Hurricane Iago himself.
NIGEL: How were they being tricky?
(IRA cracks his knuckles and clears his throat, getting ready to repeat his rant.)
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight...
JILL: Okay, that’s it.
IRA: What’s it?
JILL: At the risk of hearing this speech again, I think it would be best if I left.
IRA: What? I thought you were gonna stay. Dangerous, tricky bastard, remember?
JILL: I’m not leaving the apartment; I’m just going to the linen closet. Stacey’s gonna be here any minute, and I think it would be wise to have some blankets and pillows on deck. Please feel free to finish ranting before I return. Thank you.
NIGEL: Who’s Stacey?
JILL: My sister. Her apartment was flooded, so she’s gonna stay here until further instruction. Oh, that reminds me, we’re a little cramped for space. Would you mind sleeping on the floor tonight?
NIGEL: Not at all. Just happy to have a place to have a place to stay.
JILL: (to IRA) There. Problem solved. (Exits via linen closet.)
NIGEL: (to IRA) That was a problem.
IRA: Nah. She’s just making a big deal out of everything tonight.
NIGEL: Ah. Listen, I’m really sorry to hear about... well, you know.
IRA: Thanks bro.
NIGEL: So... Jill’s single now? (Fixing his hair) You think I’ve got a shot?
IRA: What?!
NIGEL: I’m kidding. Calm down.
IRA: (all worded up and panting) Oh... Okay... Don’t do that again.
NIGEL: You got it... So, do you wanna talk about it?
IRA: Undecided.
NIGEL: Okay then, let me know when you’ve reached a verdict.
IRA: You got it.
(Short awkward pause.)
NIGEL: So... Stacey? What’s her story?
IRA: What? You’re interested?
NIGEL: I dunno. I’ll find out when I meet her, but having a little prior intel can’t hurt. So, what can you tell me about her?
IRA: I dunno. I’ve only really met her like three times. She’s cute. Pretty much a younger version of Jill. She’s over at Ryerson, doing the fourth year of her undergrad, studying economics.
NIGEL: I guess the second apple doesn’t fall far from the first.
IRA: Guess not.
NIGEL: What else?
IRA: Um, she’s a little shy. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if that’s all the time or just around me. I was never really able to tell whether or not she liked me.
NIGEL: Well, you were screwing her sister.
IRA: Well, yeah, but in a good way.
NIGEL: Even so. Do you know if she’s single?
IRA: To my knowledge she is, but as you know, knowledge was never my strong suit.
NIGEL: Alright then, looks like I’m gonna have to find out the old fashion way.
IRA: What might that be? Subtle hinting or flat out asking?
NIGEL: Checking her Facebook page.
IRA: Ah yes. Fashion doesn’t get much older than that.
NIGEL: Anything else?
IRA: Not that I can really think of. She’ll be here any minute though. You can probably get most of the important intel just by talking to her.
NIGEL: Okay, good call. (Changing subject) Oh, I forgot to tell you! You’ll never guess who I ran into yesterday when I was walking home from jury duty.
IRA: Who?
NIGEL: Kathy Wellnick.
IRA: Whoa, Kathy Wellnick. Is that the first time since...?
NIGEL: Yes it was.
IRA: How did that go? Was it awkward?
NIGEL: Not one bit.
IRA: Well, what happened?
NIGEL: Nothing.
IRA: What? Nothing?
NIGEL: Absolutely nothing. We were on the street. I was walking one way, she the other. I saw her, she saw me. Once we met in the middle, neither one of us stopped. I just nodded politely at her, she did the same to me, and we both just kept on walking. It was great.
IRA: Great? What was great about that?
NIGEL: I dunno, it wasn’t at all awkward. It was kind of just perfect in its own way. We both knew everything that had happened between us. There was no need to revisit any of it or pretend that it never happened. It was just... enough.
IRA: So nothing happened?
NIGEL: Not a thing.
IRA: Then why are you telling me this?
NIGEL: I dunno. It was the highlight of my week.
IRA: That was the highlight of your week?
NIGEL: Well it’s been a pretty dull week. I was stuck in court for half of it.
IRA: Even so. You’re telling me that the highlight of your week was nothing?
NIGEL: Well I sure thought it something.
IRA: I don’t think it is.
NIGEL: You know what your problem is?
IRA: I’m too good-looking?
NIGEL: (pause) Never mind. But you should be careful about what you say. That could be you and Jill in a couple of months. See how nothing it is then.
IRA: Not a chance. Jill and I will be back together by morning.
NIGEL: Why so confident?
IRA: Come on, she can’t stay mad at this guy.
NIGEL: Of course not. Nobody can. (Rolls eyes.)
IRA: Look, I’m letting her and her sister take shelter here tonight and we’re not even sleeping together anymore. I think she’ll turn around.
NIGEL I hope you’re right.
(JILL returns with a stack of pillows and blankets. Someone knocks on the door.)
JILL: (setting the pillows and blankets down on a table) That’s gotta be Stacey.
(JILL opens the door. STACEY stands in the doorway holding a wet umbrella.)
STACEY: Hey Jill.
JILL: Hey kiddo. How’s it going?
STACEY: Been better, yourself? (Walks in, puts down umbrella and takes off shoes.)
JILL: Same here... different reason.
STACEY: (to IRA) Hey Ira. Thanks for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.
IRA: Don’t mention it.
(NIGEL coughs intentionally to get IRA and STACEY’s attention.)
IRA: Oh right. Stacey, this is my friend Nigel. Nige, this is Jill’s sister Stacey.
(STACEY shakes NIGEL’s hand.)
STACEY: Nice to meet you.
NIGEL: The niceness is all mine.
STACEY: I don’t understand.
NIGEL: Now that I think about it, neither do I.
STACEY: Glad we’re on the same page then.
IRA: Anyway, make yourself at home.
STACEY: Thanks. (Sits down on the couch) So, this hurricane just came out of nowhere, huh?
IRA: (looking at JILL) Yup... out of nowhere. One minute everything is fine, and the next a dangerous, tricky bastard comes and changes everything.
STACEY: Who’s that? The hurricane?
IRA: (zoned out) I’m sorry, what?
(Yet another awkward silence.)
STACEY: I’m sorry. Was it something I said?
JILL: No, it was something that Ira said.
NIGEL: Is there an echo in here?
STACEY: I’m confused.
JILL: Sorry to spring this on you like this, but Ira and I just broke up.
STACEY: What? You broke up?
IRA: That’s one way to put it.
JILL: No, I’m pretty sure that’s the only way to put it.
IRA: If you insist.
STACEY: I don’t understand. You guys were so great together. What happened?
JILL: Nothing happened, it just...
IRA: I’m sorry, whatnow?
JILL: What?
IRA: Did I hear wrong, or did you just say that nothing happened?
JILL: Um... yes?
IRA: You’ve gotta be KIDDING ME!
JILL: What?
IRA: Nothing happened? Nothing happened?! NOTHING HAPPENED?!!
JILL: Ira, calm down.
IRA: So let me get this straight.
NIGEL: Here we go.
IRA: You’re saying that we broke up over NOTHING?!
JILL: Well, didn’t we?
IRA: Well it seemed like that to me, but I assumed that you had to have had some kind of reason. And now you’re seriously telling me that the reason is NOTHING?!
JILL: Well it wasn’t nothing...
IRA: Oh, so now you’re a liar.
JILL: No!
IRA: So if it wasn’t nothing, then what was it? Because I didn’t like the crappy movie? Because I asked you to take the DVD out? Because I didn’t show any compassion at the zoo last summer? Because I said that the playwright could take down the economist? Or is this all about the freakin’ Diamond Cartel? So, what was it? If there is a reason, I think I deserve to know what it is!
STACEY: (whispering to NIGEL) I could not be more confused.
NIGEL: Just don’t get involved and you’ll be okay.
IRA: I’m waiting.
JILL: Can’t we talk about this in the morning?
IRA: We can. And we will. But I need to prepare my defence, and it would help if I had all of the evidence.
JILL: Well maybe I need to save it for my prosecution. Ever thought of that?
NIGEL: (singing to himself, rubbing his forehead) “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”
(They all stare at NIGEL in confusion for a moment, then return as they were.)
IRA: (back to JILL) Still waiting.
JILL: Fine, you wanna know why?
IRA: I think I’m entitled to it.
JILL: Fine then. The reason is... I don’t know!
IRA: You don’t know? Why don’t I believe that?
JILL: You tell me.
IRA: Why don’t you tell me? If you don’t know what this is all about, then that’s no different than it being about nothing. Is it or is it not about nothing?!
JILL: No! It’s not about nothing, nor is it about something. It’s not about commitment, or wanting to see someone else, or even something that you said or did. Maybe it’s just about who you are. Maybe some things just have to end. Nothing happened, but it’s certainly not nothing! Do you get it?
(Silence and tension fills the room. All that is heard are the sounds of IRA and JILL panting in efforts to calm themselves down. IRA sits down on the couch, and continues panting before beginning to speak. JILL remains standing, and NIGEL and STACEY both remain sitting and feeling uncomfortable.)
IRA: I’m in no state to be making big decisions right now. Let’s talk this over in the morning.
JILL: Agreed. (Sits down next to him, exhausted.)
(Short awkward silence.)
STACEY: (to IRA, pointing at JILL and herself) Would it be best if we left?
IRA: No... It’s too dangerous and tricky out there. Spend the night... further instructions.
STACEY: Okay... Thanks Ira.
IRA: Don’t mention it. I’m sorry that we brought you two into this.
NIGEL: You didn’t do anything. We brought ourselves into this.
STACEY: Actually, Iago brought us into this.
IRA: (muttering) Dangerous, tricky basterd.
(Another slightly longer awkward silence.)
NIGEL: (picking up the remote) You wanna watch the second half of Leno?
IRA: No! .... TV’s done no good for me tonight.
NIGEL: (putting the remote back down) Okay then. (Pause) So... what should we do then?
(They all sit around in silence. IRA lifts his head, signifying that he has an idea.)
IRA: Would you two mind settling a bet?
NIGEL: No.
STACEY: I don’t see why not.
IRA: Okay then. (Clears throat) If Tennessee Williams and Adam Smith were to get into a fight, who do you think would win?
STACEY: What?
IRA: Tennessee Williams vs. Adam Smith. Who would win?
STACEY: Who’s Tennessee Williams?
IRA: (staring at STACEY, dumbfounded) Never mind. (Turns towards NIGEL) Nige, settle this. Who would win?
NIGEL: Didn’t you ask me this question already, like just last week?
IRA: What? No. That was Arthur Miller vs. David Ricardo. Completely different.
NIGEL: Yet more or less exactly the same.
IRA: Just answer the question.
NIGEL: Which one? Miller vs. Ricardo or Williams vs. Smith?
IRA: Williams vs. Smith! But if we have time later, I would like to revisit Miller vs. Ricardo. Later though.
NIGEL: Huh. I don’t really know how to answer that one.
IRA: Why not?
NIGEL: Well for one, Williams was born 121 years after Smith died.
IRA: Even so. Take both of them at age thirsty and put them in a ring together.
NIGEL: Okay. What kind of fight is it? Is it like a writing fight? Because I’ll admit that I’d rather read Streetcar over The Wealth of Nations any day of the week.
IRA: No, it’s a fight fight.
NIGEL: I see. Are there any weapons involved?
IRA: No. Just their fists... and their feet... and their heads, that is if they want to fight dirty.
NIGEL: Hmmm... This is a tough one. At first I thought it would be Tennessee hands down, but now that I think about it, he was sort of the sensitive poet type. Can’t really picture that winning a fight fight. Smith on the other hand always struck me as the kind of guy who gets things done. Hmmm... You know what? It’s a close one, but I think I’ve gotta give it to Williams.
IRA: (turning towards JILL, all smug) Ha! Suck on that!
JILL: Yeah, I really don’t care.
IRA: (ignoring her) And tell me Nigel my good man, what was it that swayed you towards that ruling?
NIGEL: Well in the end, it really all came down to the fact that I’m not much of an Adam Smith fan.
STACEY: You don’t like Adam Smith? Why not?
NIGEL: Well don’t get me wrong. He was a brilliant theorist; there would be no free market today without him. But, as far as warrior economists go, I’ve always been more into John Nash.
(JILL, who has been trying very hard to ignore this conversation, lifts her head upon hearing the words “John Nash”. Her interest has just been peaked.)
JILL: I’m sorry, but did you just say “John Nash”?
NIGEL: Yeah. I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I think that his contributions to Game Theory kind of blow the Invisible Hand out of the water.
JILL: Why would I take offense to that? I love John Nash, the Nash Equilibrium and Game Theory.
NIGEL: I’m sorry; I just wasn’t sure what school of economic thought you subscribed to.
JILL: How do you know about all of this? I thought you were in engineering?
NIGEL: Yeah, I am, but I’ve taken some electives in economics. You know; Intro to Micro, Intro to Macro, History of Economic Thought, etc. It’s pretty cool stuff.
JILL: (pleasantly surprised by this new intel) Huh. I would have never guessed. (Smiles at NIGEL to show intrigue with a hint of arousal. Becomes partially embarrassed, and then looks away at STACEY.)
NIGEL: (standing up) I’ll be right back.
JILL: (standing up as well) Where you going?
NIGEL: I’m just gonna hit the john.
(NIGEL walks behind the couch towards the restroom upstage. JILL follows.)
JILL: Um... Do you mind if I join you?
IRA & STACEY: What?!
NIGEL: (not getting it) Why would you wanna join me?
IRA: (nervously) Yes Jill? Why would you wanna join him?
JILL: (flirtatiously) I dunno. I just thought it might be, you know, fun.
NIGEL: (still not getting it) What would be fun about watching me...? (Getting it) Oh! (Speechless) Uh...
(JILL takes NIGEL by the hand and leads him to the restroom.)
JILL: Come on.
IRA: (nervously) Jill?
NIGEL: I... uh... but... you... uh... Ira... huh?
IRA: (nervously repeating himself) Jill?
(JILL ignores IRA and keeps walking. While walking, NIGEL looks at IRA while gesturing towards JILL and shrugging as if to say, “It’s out of my hands.”)
IRA: (nervously, with building anger) Jill? Jill?! Jill?! JILL?!!
(JILL and NIGEL exit via restroom, and JILL closes the door behind them.)
IRA: (full out Stanley Kowalski) JILL?!! JILL?!! DAMNIT!! (Storms away from the restroom while pulling on his hair out of frustration. Halfway back to the couch he turns around and marches back to the restroom door to yell one more thing to JILL on the other side.) Would it kill you to wait for Ryan Reynolds to die before you start repopulating the world with James Franco?! (Storms back to the couch and violently throws himself down next to STACEY) Selfish nun, my ass.
(Awkward silence. IRA is speechless. STACEY wants to say something, but is feeling to uncomfortable by the situation for it to be easy.)
STACEY: I’m sorry Ira.
IRA: It’s not your fault.
STACEY: And yet I feel guilty.
(Silence. IRA pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and begins texting.)
STACEY: What are you doing?
IRA: Oh nothing. I just thought I’d send my good friend Nigel a little text... Is “asshole” one word or two?
STACEY: I don’t think it really matters.
IRA: Good call... Annnnnd send. There we go. (Puts phone back in pocket.)
STACEY: That’s good. Did that make you feel better?
IRA: What are you, some kind of shrink?
STACEY: No, I’m an economist.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Of course you are.
(Silence.)
STACEY: If it makes you feel better, she used to do this kind of thing all the time back in high school.
IRA: What’s that? Rebounding with the ex’s best friend, in the bathroom of his home, less than an hour after breaking up with him?
STACEY: Well, maybe not in so many details, but more or less...
IRA: And what part of that is supposed to make me feel better?
STACEY: (thinks for a moment) Yeah, I dunno.
(Silence.)
IRA: You know, with Jill and Nigel in there, it only makes sense if you and I...
STACEY: Not a chance.
IRA: Okay then.
(Silence.)
IRA: Is it because I dated your sister for three years?
STACEY: That’s part of it.
IRA: Okay then.
(Silence.)
IRA: What if...?
(STACEY just stares at him without saying anything, yet saying it all.)
IRA: Okay then.
STACEY: Would you even really want to?
IRA: (pause to think) No.
STACEY: That’s what I thought.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Damn economists, think they know everything.
(Silence.)
IRA: Do you mind if I ask you something?
STACEY: Shoot.
IRA: What exactly is Game Theory?
STACEY: Don’t you think it’s a little late to start taking an interest?
IRA: It’s never too late to wanna about economics.
STACEY: Well it’s kind of complex, but it’s basically the idea of determining what the best course of action or strategy would be in any given situation, most often in business competition within an industry. A lot of times it ends with competing companies joining forces and working together as one unit, or “cartel” so to speak, to eliminate competition and seek out the best interests of everyone involved.
IRA: Huh.
STACEY: What? You don’t get it? Because that’s really as simple as I can make it.
IRA: No, I was just thinking that maybe Nigel and I should try something like that... you know, with Jill.
STACEY: Try something like what?
IRA: You know. Join forces, work together as one, eliminate competition, and seek out both of our best interests.
STACEY: (sarcastically) That’s a great idea. Why don’t you try pitching that to Jill? See what she thinks of it?
IRA: Maybe I will. If anything it should be right up her alley.
(Silence.)
IRA: (sigh) This is all my fault. If I hadn’t brought up Adam Smith, Jill would have never found out how compatible she is with Nigel. Then we would have talked in the morning, worked it all out, and everything would have been just fine. I am such an idiot. (Pause) Sometimes I wish that my life was like a movie on tape. I could just rewind and undo everything that happened tonight. Start at the end and wind up at the beginning.
STACEY: Don’t we all?
(Silence.)
STACEY: (changing the subject) So... How’s the playwright business treating you?
IRA: Same as always. I do some writing every day, but nothing really ever gets published or performed.
STACEY: That’s a shame. What do you do for... you know... money during all of this?
IRA: I work at the diner down the road. Plus I also write the odd story for Reader’s Digest when things get a little tight.
STACEY: Huh. Jill never told me any of this.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Why am I not surprised?
STACEY: What’s that?
IRA: Nothing.
(Shorter silence.)
STACEY: So what are you working on now?
IRA: You mean play-wise?
STACEY: Yeah.
IRA: It’s a five-act tragedy about the stages of grief.
STACEY: Well, that sounds kind of interesting.
IRA: Yeah, it is, but it’s taking me longer than usual to get through it. I finished Bargaining a while ago, and I’m still trying to get through Depression.
STACEY: Sometimes these things take a while.
IRA: Oh, you don’t have to tell me.
(JILL slowly re-enters the stage by walking out of the restroom, embarrassed and ashamed of her actions. NIGEL stays inside for the time being. IRA doesn’t notice JILL’s return until STACEY gestures to him in her direction, at which point he stands up to confront her.)
IRA: Well, well, well. Look who’s back so soon. (Looks at the clock) Well that’s gotta be a new record or something.
JILL: (looking down in shame) Hey Ira.
IRA: You got anything to say for yourself?
(Just as JILL is about to reply, NIGEL marches swiftly out of the restroom and straight towards the front door, making an effort to make eye contact with nobody.)
IRA: (to NIGEL) Where you going?
NIGEL: (still making no eye contact) Home. I’ll talk to you later.
IRA: You can’t walk home out there. Dangerous, tricky bastard, remember?
NIGEL: (picking up his shoes and coat without putting either one on) I somehow feel safer out there than I do in here. Good bye everybody. (Exits.)
STACEY: Can’t say I blame him.
IRA: (back to JILL) So... mind explaining what happened?
JILL: It’s not what it looked like... entirely.
IRA: Okay then. How much of it was what it looked like?
JILL: We didn’t go... all the way.
IRA: Okay then. How much of said “way” did you go?
JILL: (hesitant) I’m in no state to talk about this right now.
IRA: Of course you aren’t.
(Silence.)
JILL: I think it would be best if Stacey and I went back to my place until further instructions.
IRA: But what about Iago?
JILL: We’ll be fine.
IRA: Okay then... Good bye. (Turns his back to her and starts walking away.)
JILL: Ira?
(IRA stops walking, but doesn’t turn back around to see her face.)
IRA: Yeah?
JILL: You have no idea how sorry I am.
IRA: You’re right. I don’t.
JILL: If there’s ever anything that I can do to make this right, don’t hesitate to let me...
(IRA turns around, causing JILL to stop talking momentarily upon seeing his face.)
JILL: (continuing) ... know.
IRA: Anything you can do?
JILL: Yes.
IRA: (repeating himself) Anything you can do?
JILL: Yes, that’s what I said.
IRA: What do you expect me to say to that? You know me better than anyone. You know what my problem is. I have no compassion. I’m too cynical. I’m too Goddamn... existential. How do you plan on making this right? (Pause) You think you can just say you’re sorry and give me a tote bag with your logo it? You think that’ll make everything okay?! No. (Pause) That would only make me think less of you.
JILL: I’m sorry you feel that way. (Pause) Stacey?
(STACEY gets off of the couch and walks over to the front door with JILL. They both put their shoes on, and STACEY grabs her umbrella. Before leaving, the three of them stand around in silence. A few more words are exchanged.)
STACEY: I’m sorry Ira.
IRA: It’s not your fault.
STACEY: (to herself) And yet I feel guilty.
(Silence.)
JILL: (to STACEY) You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a second.
STACEY: Okay. Bye Ira.
IRA: Yeah, see ya Stacey.
(STACEY exits.)
JILL: My offer still stands.
IRA: I know it does.
JILL: Okay... I guess I should get going then.
IRA: I guess so.
JILL: Good bye Ira.
IRA: Yeah, take ’er easy.
(JILL exits for a moment and then almost immediately re-enters.)
JILL: Hey, I almost forgot to tell you something. I think Arthur Miller could beat David Ricardo in a fight.
IRA: You do?
JILL: Yeah. My guys can’t win ’em all. But I think that John Nash could easily take down Shakespeare any day of the week.
IRA: Deal.
(JILL kisses IRA on the cheek.)
JILL: I’ll call you in the morning. We have a lot to talk about. (Exits.)
(IRA touches his cheek on the spot where JILL kissed it, and a tiny smile begins to take shape. It doesn’t last long once the realization that he is now alone again begins to sink in. He paces around the room, trying to mentally take note of everything that just happened. Once passing the pile of blankets and pillows on the table that JILL had retrieved earlier, he knocks them over onto the floor as if to say “Death to Comfort”. The pacing soon subsides, causing him to sit down on the couch to try relaxing. This doesn’t last long, because he remembers something that he had forgotten to do earlier. He gets up, walks over to the TV, takes the disk out of the DVD player, examines it, looks at the clock, puts it back into the DVD player, and sits back down on the couch with the remote in hand. He aims the remote at the TV and says his final line.)
IRA: Annnnnd... The beginning!
CURTAIN
IRA: Annnnnd... The end! Finally. Now that was an ordeal.
JILL: What? You didn’t like it?
IRA: What was your first hint?
JILL: I thought you liked war movies.
IRA: You call that a war movie?
JILL: Well, it took place during the Second World War, and it was a movie, so... yeah.
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight. We’re following the lives of roughly eight people, and of those eight people the only two who live to see 1946 are Ryan Reynolds and what’s-her-name from Terminator 3...
JILL: Claire Danes.
IRA: Right. Ryan Reynolds and Claire Danes are the only two people who survived the war, which is just perfect because they were in love back in 39, but he was sent to the German front the day before their wedding. But everything’s okay now that they’re reunited and can live happily ever after, despite the fact that everyone that they know is dead and that his army pension won’t last him ‘til age forty. But at least they have each other. Please?
JILL: Ya know, it’s based on a true story.
IRA: Based on a true story. That’s adorable. That only means that “yes, there was a Second World War”, everything else is made up. Based on a true story. I’ve slapped that label on tons of my plays.
JILL: And how many of those plays have you sold?
IRA: Wow. Below the belt, much?
JILL: Sorry, that was uncalled for.
IRA: Anyway, think about it like this. What if Ryan Reynolds had died and the only two survivors were Claire Danes and James Franco? Would the two of them have gotten married in the end?
JILL: No!
IRA: Why not?
JILL: She wouldn’t marry her fiancé’s best friend just because he died. She’d devote her life to the church before doing that.
IRA: Well that would be pretty selfish of her.
JILL: Becoming a nun would be selfish?
IRA: Yeah. As the last surviving female, it’s her duty to ensure the reproduction of mankind. If James Franco is the only living male... well, beggars can’t be choosers.
JILL: Wait a minute; you do realize that being the only survivors of a group of eight characters isn’t the same thing as being the only survivors in the whole world? You do know that, right?
IRA: Hello, it’s called a microcosm.
JILL: Do you even know what that means?
IRA: Of course I do. Have you ever even read any of my plays?
JILL: Could we please just drop it?
IRA: If you want to. You know that I can argue about this for weeks.
JILL: Alright then, let’s drop it.
IRA: It’s your call.
JILL: I’m sorry that you didn’t like the movie.
IRA: Yeah, last time I let you pick. We should have rented The Hurt Locker again.
JILL: You’re seen that movie twelve times.
IRA: And it’s yet to disappoint. Now that’s a war movie.
(JILL says nothing.)
IRA: Would you mind taking the disk out?
JILL: Why can’t you do it?
IRA: Well if I get up we both have to get out of our comfy positions. If you get up only one of us has to. That’s utilitarianism 101.
JILL: Or we can leave the disk in until morning so that we can both be comfy now.
IRA: Damn you’re smart.
JILL: What time is it?
IRA: Four hours after we started the movie.
JILL: Which is?
IRA: (looking at the clock) 11:26. You wanna watch Leno?
JILL: Nah. Turn it to the news.
IRA: The news?
JILL: Yeah.
IRA: There’s only four minutes left.
JILL: So?
IRA: So we’ve missed all of the important stories already.
JILL: So we’ll catch the last one.
IRA: The last one’s just filler. If it was important they would have gotten to it earlier.
JILL: Can we just watch it please?
IRA: Whatever you say (changes channel). Might I remind you that we could have been watching this from the beginning if you had picked a shorter movie?
JILL: Shhh!
IRA: Okay.
(The next series on lines occurs on the TV and is being watched by IRA and JILL. It should not be seen on stage, only heard. It can be performed by either offstage actors or a pre-recorded tape. On stage action does not resume until IRA’s next line.)
NEWS ANCHOR: Yesterday’s conflict between the DeLiquor Diamond Cartel and the aboriginal communities of Northern Manitoba has been resolved. Yesterday, hundreds of First Nations peoples were evicted from their reservations and relocated communities all over Northwest Territories and Nunavut after the Diamond Cartel purchased their land from the Canadian government with the intention of opening several new mines in what they’ve classified to be prime mining real estate. This made the natives quite angry, and prompted a lot of discussion of pressing legal charges against both the Cartel and the Canadian government. A meeting was held today in Yellowknife between lawyers from all three parties. After no more than ten minutes of discussion, a settlement was reached. The Cartel will continue to hold ownership of their purchased lands, and the amount of reparations paid to the aboriginals has yet to be disclosed. In addition, representatives from DeLiquor have been spending the day traveling across the territories to personally apologize to everybody who was affected by this transition. A DeLiquor spokesman stated that this was not part of the settlement, but merely the least that they could do to make everything right. We now go to John Toobino in Hay River to meet with one of these natives now. John?
INTERVIEWER: I’m here with Rolling Oats, a Manitoba native and mother of six who was relocated to Hay River as a result of DeLiquor’s acquisition of several Northern Manitoba reservations. Moments ago representatives from the Cartel made a personal apology to her and her family. Mrs. Oats, how do you feel right now?
OATS: Oh, I am very great. Very happy. Yes.
INTEVIEWER: Is it true that you no longer hold any resentment against the DeLiquor Cartel for having acquired the land that was your home up until yesterday?
OATS: Oh no. The DeLiquor Company was very nice to us. They came and gave us a nice yet unnecessary apology, considering that the settlement had already been reached. Plus they brought all of these goodies for the children. Kids show all of your goodies to the camera.
INTERVIEWER: Well there you have it. What was once wrong has been made right by the kindness and compassion of the DeLiquor Diamond Cartel. John Toobino, CTV News, Hay River.
NEWS ANCHOR: Thank you John. Well that’s the news for today. Good night, and stay tuned for your local news, starting right now.
(IRA turns the TV off.)
IRA: See what I mean? Filler.
JILL: Oh come on. That was sweet and you know it.
IRA: Sweet? Sweet? What part of that was sweet?
JILL: What part of that wasn’t sweet?
IRA: How about all of it? There was nothing sweet about any of that.
JILL: You’re crazy. DeLiquor felt bad about having to evict the people living over their mine, so they made it up to them. They made everybody happy. That’s sweet.
IRA: Do you hear yourself? Did we not just watch the same story? What you call sweet, I call evil.
JILL: Evil? I know I’m going to regret saying this, but please justify your logic.
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight.
JILL: Here we go.
IRA: The Cartel buys the aboriginal land from the Canadian government without the consent of the aboriginal people, thus having to deport the aboriginal people to the only place in the country that’s colder than where they already were. I’m not even gonna touch the fact that this sounds suspiciously like Avatar. Then in an attempt to smooth everything over, they come by with a cheap apology and a DeLiquor tote bag for the kids. Yeah, that really makes up for everything. Plus the kids make sure to show the logo on the tote bag to the camera while their mother explains to the country what great people they are. But I’m sure that there was no product placement contract or bribe involved there. That would just be bananas! Please?
JILL: You know, if the whole playwright thing doesn’t work out, you could make a great living as a spin doctor.
IRA: Wouldn’t work. Companies don’t hire PR guys to see the worst in their methods of operations.
JILL: Too bad.
IRA: Plus they call themselves a “Cartel” for God’s sake. That should be the reddest of flags right there. They’ve probably got ties to drug trafficking and burning down South American villages.
JILL: It’s a Diamond Cartel, not a Drug Cartel. That’s two completely different kinds of Cartels.
IRA: Alright, what about Blood Diamonds? You know, Africa, guns, violence, warlords, Leo DiCaprio, all that stuff? The point is that you can’t trust the Cartels.
JILL: Do you even know what a Cartel is?
IRA: Do you?
JILL: I’m currently doing a masters in economics with a focus on Game Theory. I know literally everything about Cartels.
IRA: Good for you. Look, this isn’t about your education. This is about DeLiquor tricking society into thinking that they’re good people. People just make me sick sometimes.
JILL: Which people are you referring to exactly?
IRA: Both of ’em. DeLiquor makes me sick for their strategically revealed lack of moral integrity, and the Indians make me sick for falling for it. It’s just wrong.
(JILL get’s off of IRA’s lap and sits up next to him.)
JILL: (looking IRA in the eyes for the first time) You know what your problem is?
IRA: I’m too good-looking?
JILL: (fake laugh, broken by words) No. You my friend have no compassion.
IRA: Now that’s not true.
JILL: Yes it is.
IRA: No it’s not.
JILL: Okay Mr. PR, spin your way out of this one.
IRA: With pleasure. (Long pause while he thinks.)
JILL: Having trouble?
IRA: Not even slightly. All I know is that I’m full of compassion. I’m compassionate literally all the time.
JILL: Well then it shouldn’t be hard to think of an example.
IRA: An example?
JILL: Yeah. Cite a time when you’ve been compassionate and then I’ll totally believe you.
IRA: You’re on. (Pause to think) I’ve got it! Remember that day last summer when we went to the zoo?
JILL: Yeah... (Waits for IRA to continue) Go on.
IRA: Yeah, I have absolutely no idea where I was going with that.
JILL: Yeah, that’s what I thought.
IRA: Maybe I don’t have any compassion.
JILL: (tapping her nose twice) And do you have any idea why that is?
IRA: Because I’m an existentialist?
JILL: No. It’s because you’re cynical.
IRA: Pfft. Well I could have told you that.
JILL: Then why didn’t you?
IRA: (looking backwards) Is it still raining out there?
JILL: You know what this means, don’t you?
IRA: We’re gonna have to wear boots tomorrow?
JILL: I think we should break up.
(Silence. IRA is still looking backwards until turning towards JILL.)
IRA: I’m sorry, whatnow?
JILL: I think we should break up.
IRA: (shocked) What? Where did that come from?
JILL: Where did that come from? Where do you think that came from? What have we been talking about just now?
IRA: Well, let’s see. (Counting on his fingers) Your bad taste in crappy movies, the deceptive CSR of an evil Diamond Cartel, and whether or not I’m a terrible person. Not seeing the connection.
JILL: (disgusted) Uchk. (Gets up and walks towards the door.)
IRA: Jill, wait!
JILL: Wait for what?
IRA: Can’t we talk about this?
JILL: What’s there to talk about?
IRA: This!
JILL: There’s nothing to talk about.
IRA: There’s everything to talk about.
JILL: Well I’m done talking.
IRA: But I’m not.
JILL: So talk to yourself.
IRA: I’ve got the rest of my life for that. Talk to me now.
JILL: You realize that that’ll only prove my point further?
IRA: If that happens you can leave. I give you my blessing.
JILL: (thinking about it) Well...
IRA: Or I’ll tell you what. We both need a little time to calm down, so let’s talk about this in the morning.
JILL: In the morning?
IRA: Yes.
JILL: And by “morning”, you mean “after bed”?
IRA: That’s usually when the morning takes place.
JILL: Where are you going with this?
IRA: Whatever do you mean?
JILL: You know exactly what I mean. Where the hell do you get off suggesting anything to do with beds in a time like this?
IRA: Might I remind you that I wasn’t the one who mentioned beds. That was you.
JILL: Oh, you really missed your calling Dr. Spin, but I ain’t buying it.
IRA: But since you bring up the bed...
JILL: Don’t go there.
IRA: ’Twas one of the best aspects of our relationship.
JILL: Maybe for you it was.
IRA: Ouch.
JILL: I’m sorry. That was a little uncalled for.
IRA: Thanks... for proving my point.
JILL: What point?
IRA: We’re both talking out of anger. We say things that we don’t mean and then regret them later. We’re in no state to be making big decisions right now, so let’s talk this over in the morning once we’ve calmed down. Agreed?
JILL: Fine. But we’re still broken up for now. We’ll see if that changes by morning.
IRA: Why are you so eager to me single? Is there someone else?
JILL: Of course not.
IRA: Yeah, it was worth a shot.
JILL: Another thing. I’m spending the night in my own bed.
IRA: Whatever you want, it’s fine by me... Can I come too?
JILL: No!
IRA: Yeah, I didn’t think so. But you can’t blame me for trying.
JILL: You’d be surprised.
(Awkward pause.)
JILL: I guess I should get going. (Walks towards the door.)
IRA: Wait... At least wait for the rain to clear up.
JILL: (sighing) Fine. How long do you think that’ll take?
IRA: Love the enthusiasm.
(Phone rings. JILL sits down on couch.)
IRA: Excuse me for a moment. (Picks up phone) Hello... Oh, Hey Nige. What’s up? ... What? ... You’re kidding... No, I missed most of the news. I only caught the end of it... And you’re just calling me now? ... Where have you been this whole time? ... Oh, okay... Yeah sure, you can crash on my couch... Jill’s here, but she’s gonna leave when the rain stops... Huh, that could be a problem... You know what, don’t worry about it. We’ll work something out... Okay. See ya soon... Bye. (Hangs up.)
JILL: Something wrong?
IRA: That was Nigel. Turns out this isn’t just a little rain. It’s a full out hurricane.
JILL: A hurricane?
IRA: Yup. Hurricane Iago.
JILL: How did we not here about this sooner?
IRA: Gee, I dunno, maybe because you chose a four hour movie that caused us to miss most of the news. But fortunately it ended with enough time for us to catch that lovely piece on the Diamond Cartel which is now turning out to be the direct cause of my downfall!
JILL: Okay, calm down! What else did he say?
IRA: He said that there was some kind of big storm alert. Told everyone to stay indoors until further instructions.
JILL: (sarcastically) That’s just great.
IRA: It gets better. The aforementioned instructions won’t come until at least tomorrow morning.
JILL: Tomorrow morning?
IRA: At least.
JILL: Huh. (Long awkward pause) Well, I should get going. Talk to you in the morning.
IRA: Wait, you can’t leave.
JILL: You’d be surprised.
IRA: But... Iago. He’s out there. He’s a dangerous, tricky bastard. You can’t go out in that.
JILL: Well what’s the alternative?
IRA: Stay here until further instructions. You can take my bed.
JILL: And you’ll be on the couch, right?
IRA: (pause) Fine.
JILL: Worth a shot?
IRA: You know me too well.
JILL: Fine, I’ll stay here.
IRA: Great. Oh, one more thing, and it’s really minor. Nigel’s coming over to camp out here too.
JILL: What? Why?
IRA: He just got out of class when he saw the warning on the news, and my place is less of a commute than his. I told him that he could crash here until further instructions. That’s what friends do.
JILL: That’s it. I’m leaving.
IRA: What? Why?
JILL: Where do you plan on having him sleep?
IRA: Well, you know, on the couch... oh.
JILL: Yeah.
IRA: Okay, crazy thought...
JILL: No.
IRA: Okay then.
JILL: Should I just go then?
IRA: No. You’ll get the bed, and Nige and I can duke it out over the couch. One of us can sleep on the floor. It’s all good.
JILL: Okay then.
IRA: Please don’t leave.
JILL: I just said that I’ll stay.
IRA: I know.
JILL: Okay then. Are we good?
IRA: You tell me.
(JILL’s cell phone rings.)
JILL: Sorry, one second. (Picks up phone) Hello... Oh, hey Stacey... Been better, yourself? ... Yeah, I know... I actually just heard about it now... No, I missed most of the news... Ira and I rented a movie... Yeah, how did you know? ... Oh, it was so good... Ira didn’t like it. What else is new? ... Oh really? ... What? ... Oh that’s awful... Are you okay? ... Did you call the insurance company? ... Oh, right... Well, do you have a place to stay tonight? ... No, I’m at Ira’s right now... Not gonna risk going home until further instructions... Why don’t you come over here? ... No, don’t be silly, there’s plenty of room... Okay, it’s settled then... It’s 168 McCaul Street. Yeah, it’s the little apartment above the smoke shop. You can’t miss it. ... Okay, see you soon... Bye. (Hangs up) So we’ve got a bit of a situation.
IRA: (having just heard all of that) What was that about?
JILL: That was Stacey. Her apartment’s been flooded.
IRA: Uh huh. And...?
JILL: And... Is it okay if she stays here until further instructions?
IRA: Well, that depends. Is it too late for me to say no?
JILL: Oh, she’s my sister. What was I supposed to say?
IRA: You didn’t have to say that there’s plenty of room when you know that there isn’t. So where do we go from here? You’ll get the bed, Stacey will take the couch, and Nige and I can duke it out over the good part of the floor?
JILL: I’ll tell you what, Stacey can bunk with me. We shared a bedroom for years, this shouldn’t be too different.
IRA: Or... you and Stacey can duke it out over the couch, and Nigel and I can bunk together in there.
JILL: You’re kidding, right?
IRA: Why not? We once shared a dorm for eight months, this shouldn’t be too different.
JILL: So you’re saying that instead of possibly sleeping on the floor, you’d rather share a bed with your best friend, who’s male?
IRA: Well... Damnit!
JILL: That’s what I thought.
IRA: So, is there anything else that we need to work out?
JILL: I don’t think so.
IRA: Alright then.
(They both plop back down onto the couch, exhausted. They sit next to each other in awkward silence.)
IRA: So?
JILL: So what?
IRA: I dunno.
(They both turn their heads towards the door in anticipation, but nothing happens.)
IRA: So... we’re broken up now?
JILL: Yup.
IRA: Huh. (Awkward pause) Do you mind if I ask you something?
JILL: Shoot.
IRA: Now that I think about it, it’s not really a question. It’s really just something that I’ve always wanted to say to you, but never said because, well you know, we were dating, and I thought it might lead to a fight. But now that we’re broken up, what the hell? I might as well, unless of course...
JILL: Just say it!
IRA: Okay, (pause) here I go. (Clears throat) If the two of them were ever to get into a fight, Tennessee Williams would kick Adam Smith’s ass any day of the week.
JILL: What?
IRA: If Tennessee Williams and Adam Smith were to get in a fight, my boy would kick Smith’s ass.
JILL: (dumbfounded) Kick Smith’s ass?
IRA: Any day of the week, yes.
JILL: (almost speechless) That’s what you’ve always wanted to say to me?
IRA: Yes.
JILL: Why?
IRA: Whataya mean why?
JILL: I mean why why?
IRA: It’s just something that’s been on my mind for a while. Since the day we met to be exact.
JILL: So you’re saying that when we met and I told you that I was into economics, your first thought was that Tennessee Williams could beat Adam Smith in a fight?
IRA: Any day of the week, yes.
JILL: You’re insane.
IRA: Let me guess, you think that Smith could beat Williams?
JILL: What? No. This has nothing to do with that!
(Somebody knocks on the door to the tune of Shave and a Haircut.)
IRA: (yelling to the person on the other side of the door) Nige?!
NIGEL: (offstage, on the other side of the door) Yup!
IRA: (walking towards the door) Coming!
(IRA opens the door. NIGEL stands in the doorway, soaking wet.)
NIGEL: Wassup I’Rabot?
IRA: Not much, yourself?
(NIGEL walks in, takes his shoes off and puts his coat on the rack.)
NIGEL: Likewise. Hey Jill.
JILL: Hey Nigel.
(They all stand around in awkward silence.)
NIGEL: Was it something I said?
JILL: No, it was something that Ira said.
NIGEL: I don’t follow.
JILL: It’s nothing. You’re sort of catching us at a bad time, is all.
NIGEL: A bad time?
IRA: Yeah, we kind of just broke up.
NIGEL: (thrown off guard) What? You broke up? Dude? When did this happen?
IRA: Um, I dunno, about a few minutes before you called.
NIGEL: What? Really? What happened?
IRA: I have absolutely no idea. One minute everything was fine, and the next... well, you know.
JILL: Not really. It didn’t happen quite like that.
IRA: You’re right. I vaguely recall something about a Diamond Cartel coming in and ruining everything.
NIGEL: (confused) Diamond Cartel? Oh, did you guys hear about that thing with DeLiquor and the Indians?
JILL: As a matter of fact we did.
NIGEL: Wasn’t that sweet?
JILL: (turning towards IRA, all smug) Ha!
IRA: Sweet?! What was sweet about that?!
NIGEL: I dunno. Didn’t you see how happy those kids looked? That says a lot, considering that they were evicted from their homes less than twenty-four hours earlier.
IRA: What exactly does that say? That anybody can be bought? That all it takes is a tote bag?
NIGEL: Um... yes?
IRA: I weep for the future.
NIGEL: What’s so bad about DeLiquor trying to do the right thing?
IRA: That’s just it. They’re not trying to do the right thing. Instead they’re just manipulating the minds of all who stand in their way. They’re being trickier than ol’ Hurricane Iago himself.
NIGEL: How were they being tricky?
(IRA cracks his knuckles and clears his throat, getting ready to repeat his rant.)
IRA: Okay, so let me get this straight...
JILL: Okay, that’s it.
IRA: What’s it?
JILL: At the risk of hearing this speech again, I think it would be best if I left.
IRA: What? I thought you were gonna stay. Dangerous, tricky bastard, remember?
JILL: I’m not leaving the apartment; I’m just going to the linen closet. Stacey’s gonna be here any minute, and I think it would be wise to have some blankets and pillows on deck. Please feel free to finish ranting before I return. Thank you.
NIGEL: Who’s Stacey?
JILL: My sister. Her apartment was flooded, so she’s gonna stay here until further instruction. Oh, that reminds me, we’re a little cramped for space. Would you mind sleeping on the floor tonight?
NIGEL: Not at all. Just happy to have a place to have a place to stay.
JILL: (to IRA) There. Problem solved. (Exits via linen closet.)
NIGEL: (to IRA) That was a problem.
IRA: Nah. She’s just making a big deal out of everything tonight.
NIGEL: Ah. Listen, I’m really sorry to hear about... well, you know.
IRA: Thanks bro.
NIGEL: So... Jill’s single now? (Fixing his hair) You think I’ve got a shot?
IRA: What?!
NIGEL: I’m kidding. Calm down.
IRA: (all worded up and panting) Oh... Okay... Don’t do that again.
NIGEL: You got it... So, do you wanna talk about it?
IRA: Undecided.
NIGEL: Okay then, let me know when you’ve reached a verdict.
IRA: You got it.
(Short awkward pause.)
NIGEL: So... Stacey? What’s her story?
IRA: What? You’re interested?
NIGEL: I dunno. I’ll find out when I meet her, but having a little prior intel can’t hurt. So, what can you tell me about her?
IRA: I dunno. I’ve only really met her like three times. She’s cute. Pretty much a younger version of Jill. She’s over at Ryerson, doing the fourth year of her undergrad, studying economics.
NIGEL: I guess the second apple doesn’t fall far from the first.
IRA: Guess not.
NIGEL: What else?
IRA: Um, she’s a little shy. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if that’s all the time or just around me. I was never really able to tell whether or not she liked me.
NIGEL: Well, you were screwing her sister.
IRA: Well, yeah, but in a good way.
NIGEL: Even so. Do you know if she’s single?
IRA: To my knowledge she is, but as you know, knowledge was never my strong suit.
NIGEL: Alright then, looks like I’m gonna have to find out the old fashion way.
IRA: What might that be? Subtle hinting or flat out asking?
NIGEL: Checking her Facebook page.
IRA: Ah yes. Fashion doesn’t get much older than that.
NIGEL: Anything else?
IRA: Not that I can really think of. She’ll be here any minute though. You can probably get most of the important intel just by talking to her.
NIGEL: Okay, good call. (Changing subject) Oh, I forgot to tell you! You’ll never guess who I ran into yesterday when I was walking home from jury duty.
IRA: Who?
NIGEL: Kathy Wellnick.
IRA: Whoa, Kathy Wellnick. Is that the first time since...?
NIGEL: Yes it was.
IRA: How did that go? Was it awkward?
NIGEL: Not one bit.
IRA: Well, what happened?
NIGEL: Nothing.
IRA: What? Nothing?
NIGEL: Absolutely nothing. We were on the street. I was walking one way, she the other. I saw her, she saw me. Once we met in the middle, neither one of us stopped. I just nodded politely at her, she did the same to me, and we both just kept on walking. It was great.
IRA: Great? What was great about that?
NIGEL: I dunno, it wasn’t at all awkward. It was kind of just perfect in its own way. We both knew everything that had happened between us. There was no need to revisit any of it or pretend that it never happened. It was just... enough.
IRA: So nothing happened?
NIGEL: Not a thing.
IRA: Then why are you telling me this?
NIGEL: I dunno. It was the highlight of my week.
IRA: That was the highlight of your week?
NIGEL: Well it’s been a pretty dull week. I was stuck in court for half of it.
IRA: Even so. You’re telling me that the highlight of your week was nothing?
NIGEL: Well I sure thought it something.
IRA: I don’t think it is.
NIGEL: You know what your problem is?
IRA: I’m too good-looking?
NIGEL: (pause) Never mind. But you should be careful about what you say. That could be you and Jill in a couple of months. See how nothing it is then.
IRA: Not a chance. Jill and I will be back together by morning.
NIGEL: Why so confident?
IRA: Come on, she can’t stay mad at this guy.
NIGEL: Of course not. Nobody can. (Rolls eyes.)
IRA: Look, I’m letting her and her sister take shelter here tonight and we’re not even sleeping together anymore. I think she’ll turn around.
NIGEL I hope you’re right.
(JILL returns with a stack of pillows and blankets. Someone knocks on the door.)
JILL: (setting the pillows and blankets down on a table) That’s gotta be Stacey.
(JILL opens the door. STACEY stands in the doorway holding a wet umbrella.)
STACEY: Hey Jill.
JILL: Hey kiddo. How’s it going?
STACEY: Been better, yourself? (Walks in, puts down umbrella and takes off shoes.)
JILL: Same here... different reason.
STACEY: (to IRA) Hey Ira. Thanks for letting me stay here. I really appreciate it.
IRA: Don’t mention it.
(NIGEL coughs intentionally to get IRA and STACEY’s attention.)
IRA: Oh right. Stacey, this is my friend Nigel. Nige, this is Jill’s sister Stacey.
(STACEY shakes NIGEL’s hand.)
STACEY: Nice to meet you.
NIGEL: The niceness is all mine.
STACEY: I don’t understand.
NIGEL: Now that I think about it, neither do I.
STACEY: Glad we’re on the same page then.
IRA: Anyway, make yourself at home.
STACEY: Thanks. (Sits down on the couch) So, this hurricane just came out of nowhere, huh?
IRA: (looking at JILL) Yup... out of nowhere. One minute everything is fine, and the next a dangerous, tricky bastard comes and changes everything.
STACEY: Who’s that? The hurricane?
IRA: (zoned out) I’m sorry, what?
(Yet another awkward silence.)
STACEY: I’m sorry. Was it something I said?
JILL: No, it was something that Ira said.
NIGEL: Is there an echo in here?
STACEY: I’m confused.
JILL: Sorry to spring this on you like this, but Ira and I just broke up.
STACEY: What? You broke up?
IRA: That’s one way to put it.
JILL: No, I’m pretty sure that’s the only way to put it.
IRA: If you insist.
STACEY: I don’t understand. You guys were so great together. What happened?
JILL: Nothing happened, it just...
IRA: I’m sorry, whatnow?
JILL: What?
IRA: Did I hear wrong, or did you just say that nothing happened?
JILL: Um... yes?
IRA: You’ve gotta be KIDDING ME!
JILL: What?
IRA: Nothing happened? Nothing happened?! NOTHING HAPPENED?!!
JILL: Ira, calm down.
IRA: So let me get this straight.
NIGEL: Here we go.
IRA: You’re saying that we broke up over NOTHING?!
JILL: Well, didn’t we?
IRA: Well it seemed like that to me, but I assumed that you had to have had some kind of reason. And now you’re seriously telling me that the reason is NOTHING?!
JILL: Well it wasn’t nothing...
IRA: Oh, so now you’re a liar.
JILL: No!
IRA: So if it wasn’t nothing, then what was it? Because I didn’t like the crappy movie? Because I asked you to take the DVD out? Because I didn’t show any compassion at the zoo last summer? Because I said that the playwright could take down the economist? Or is this all about the freakin’ Diamond Cartel? So, what was it? If there is a reason, I think I deserve to know what it is!
STACEY: (whispering to NIGEL) I could not be more confused.
NIGEL: Just don’t get involved and you’ll be okay.
IRA: I’m waiting.
JILL: Can’t we talk about this in the morning?
IRA: We can. And we will. But I need to prepare my defence, and it would help if I had all of the evidence.
JILL: Well maybe I need to save it for my prosecution. Ever thought of that?
NIGEL: (singing to himself, rubbing his forehead) “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”
(They all stare at NIGEL in confusion for a moment, then return as they were.)
IRA: (back to JILL) Still waiting.
JILL: Fine, you wanna know why?
IRA: I think I’m entitled to it.
JILL: Fine then. The reason is... I don’t know!
IRA: You don’t know? Why don’t I believe that?
JILL: You tell me.
IRA: Why don’t you tell me? If you don’t know what this is all about, then that’s no different than it being about nothing. Is it or is it not about nothing?!
JILL: No! It’s not about nothing, nor is it about something. It’s not about commitment, or wanting to see someone else, or even something that you said or did. Maybe it’s just about who you are. Maybe some things just have to end. Nothing happened, but it’s certainly not nothing! Do you get it?
(Silence and tension fills the room. All that is heard are the sounds of IRA and JILL panting in efforts to calm themselves down. IRA sits down on the couch, and continues panting before beginning to speak. JILL remains standing, and NIGEL and STACEY both remain sitting and feeling uncomfortable.)
IRA: I’m in no state to be making big decisions right now. Let’s talk this over in the morning.
JILL: Agreed. (Sits down next to him, exhausted.)
(Short awkward silence.)
STACEY: (to IRA, pointing at JILL and herself) Would it be best if we left?
IRA: No... It’s too dangerous and tricky out there. Spend the night... further instructions.
STACEY: Okay... Thanks Ira.
IRA: Don’t mention it. I’m sorry that we brought you two into this.
NIGEL: You didn’t do anything. We brought ourselves into this.
STACEY: Actually, Iago brought us into this.
IRA: (muttering) Dangerous, tricky basterd.
(Another slightly longer awkward silence.)
NIGEL: (picking up the remote) You wanna watch the second half of Leno?
IRA: No! .... TV’s done no good for me tonight.
NIGEL: (putting the remote back down) Okay then. (Pause) So... what should we do then?
(They all sit around in silence. IRA lifts his head, signifying that he has an idea.)
IRA: Would you two mind settling a bet?
NIGEL: No.
STACEY: I don’t see why not.
IRA: Okay then. (Clears throat) If Tennessee Williams and Adam Smith were to get into a fight, who do you think would win?
STACEY: What?
IRA: Tennessee Williams vs. Adam Smith. Who would win?
STACEY: Who’s Tennessee Williams?
IRA: (staring at STACEY, dumbfounded) Never mind. (Turns towards NIGEL) Nige, settle this. Who would win?
NIGEL: Didn’t you ask me this question already, like just last week?
IRA: What? No. That was Arthur Miller vs. David Ricardo. Completely different.
NIGEL: Yet more or less exactly the same.
IRA: Just answer the question.
NIGEL: Which one? Miller vs. Ricardo or Williams vs. Smith?
IRA: Williams vs. Smith! But if we have time later, I would like to revisit Miller vs. Ricardo. Later though.
NIGEL: Huh. I don’t really know how to answer that one.
IRA: Why not?
NIGEL: Well for one, Williams was born 121 years after Smith died.
IRA: Even so. Take both of them at age thirsty and put them in a ring together.
NIGEL: Okay. What kind of fight is it? Is it like a writing fight? Because I’ll admit that I’d rather read Streetcar over The Wealth of Nations any day of the week.
IRA: No, it’s a fight fight.
NIGEL: I see. Are there any weapons involved?
IRA: No. Just their fists... and their feet... and their heads, that is if they want to fight dirty.
NIGEL: Hmmm... This is a tough one. At first I thought it would be Tennessee hands down, but now that I think about it, he was sort of the sensitive poet type. Can’t really picture that winning a fight fight. Smith on the other hand always struck me as the kind of guy who gets things done. Hmmm... You know what? It’s a close one, but I think I’ve gotta give it to Williams.
IRA: (turning towards JILL, all smug) Ha! Suck on that!
JILL: Yeah, I really don’t care.
IRA: (ignoring her) And tell me Nigel my good man, what was it that swayed you towards that ruling?
NIGEL: Well in the end, it really all came down to the fact that I’m not much of an Adam Smith fan.
STACEY: You don’t like Adam Smith? Why not?
NIGEL: Well don’t get me wrong. He was a brilliant theorist; there would be no free market today without him. But, as far as warrior economists go, I’ve always been more into John Nash.
(JILL, who has been trying very hard to ignore this conversation, lifts her head upon hearing the words “John Nash”. Her interest has just been peaked.)
JILL: I’m sorry, but did you just say “John Nash”?
NIGEL: Yeah. I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I think that his contributions to Game Theory kind of blow the Invisible Hand out of the water.
JILL: Why would I take offense to that? I love John Nash, the Nash Equilibrium and Game Theory.
NIGEL: I’m sorry; I just wasn’t sure what school of economic thought you subscribed to.
JILL: How do you know about all of this? I thought you were in engineering?
NIGEL: Yeah, I am, but I’ve taken some electives in economics. You know; Intro to Micro, Intro to Macro, History of Economic Thought, etc. It’s pretty cool stuff.
JILL: (pleasantly surprised by this new intel) Huh. I would have never guessed. (Smiles at NIGEL to show intrigue with a hint of arousal. Becomes partially embarrassed, and then looks away at STACEY.)
NIGEL: (standing up) I’ll be right back.
JILL: (standing up as well) Where you going?
NIGEL: I’m just gonna hit the john.
(NIGEL walks behind the couch towards the restroom upstage. JILL follows.)
JILL: Um... Do you mind if I join you?
IRA & STACEY: What?!
NIGEL: (not getting it) Why would you wanna join me?
IRA: (nervously) Yes Jill? Why would you wanna join him?
JILL: (flirtatiously) I dunno. I just thought it might be, you know, fun.
NIGEL: (still not getting it) What would be fun about watching me...? (Getting it) Oh! (Speechless) Uh...
(JILL takes NIGEL by the hand and leads him to the restroom.)
JILL: Come on.
IRA: (nervously) Jill?
NIGEL: I... uh... but... you... uh... Ira... huh?
IRA: (nervously repeating himself) Jill?
(JILL ignores IRA and keeps walking. While walking, NIGEL looks at IRA while gesturing towards JILL and shrugging as if to say, “It’s out of my hands.”)
IRA: (nervously, with building anger) Jill? Jill?! Jill?! JILL?!!
(JILL and NIGEL exit via restroom, and JILL closes the door behind them.)
IRA: (full out Stanley Kowalski) JILL?!! JILL?!! DAMNIT!! (Storms away from the restroom while pulling on his hair out of frustration. Halfway back to the couch he turns around and marches back to the restroom door to yell one more thing to JILL on the other side.) Would it kill you to wait for Ryan Reynolds to die before you start repopulating the world with James Franco?! (Storms back to the couch and violently throws himself down next to STACEY) Selfish nun, my ass.
(Awkward silence. IRA is speechless. STACEY wants to say something, but is feeling to uncomfortable by the situation for it to be easy.)
STACEY: I’m sorry Ira.
IRA: It’s not your fault.
STACEY: And yet I feel guilty.
(Silence. IRA pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and begins texting.)
STACEY: What are you doing?
IRA: Oh nothing. I just thought I’d send my good friend Nigel a little text... Is “asshole” one word or two?
STACEY: I don’t think it really matters.
IRA: Good call... Annnnnd send. There we go. (Puts phone back in pocket.)
STACEY: That’s good. Did that make you feel better?
IRA: What are you, some kind of shrink?
STACEY: No, I’m an economist.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Of course you are.
(Silence.)
STACEY: If it makes you feel better, she used to do this kind of thing all the time back in high school.
IRA: What’s that? Rebounding with the ex’s best friend, in the bathroom of his home, less than an hour after breaking up with him?
STACEY: Well, maybe not in so many details, but more or less...
IRA: And what part of that is supposed to make me feel better?
STACEY: (thinks for a moment) Yeah, I dunno.
(Silence.)
IRA: You know, with Jill and Nigel in there, it only makes sense if you and I...
STACEY: Not a chance.
IRA: Okay then.
(Silence.)
IRA: Is it because I dated your sister for three years?
STACEY: That’s part of it.
IRA: Okay then.
(Silence.)
IRA: What if...?
(STACEY just stares at him without saying anything, yet saying it all.)
IRA: Okay then.
STACEY: Would you even really want to?
IRA: (pause to think) No.
STACEY: That’s what I thought.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Damn economists, think they know everything.
(Silence.)
IRA: Do you mind if I ask you something?
STACEY: Shoot.
IRA: What exactly is Game Theory?
STACEY: Don’t you think it’s a little late to start taking an interest?
IRA: It’s never too late to wanna about economics.
STACEY: Well it’s kind of complex, but it’s basically the idea of determining what the best course of action or strategy would be in any given situation, most often in business competition within an industry. A lot of times it ends with competing companies joining forces and working together as one unit, or “cartel” so to speak, to eliminate competition and seek out the best interests of everyone involved.
IRA: Huh.
STACEY: What? You don’t get it? Because that’s really as simple as I can make it.
IRA: No, I was just thinking that maybe Nigel and I should try something like that... you know, with Jill.
STACEY: Try something like what?
IRA: You know. Join forces, work together as one, eliminate competition, and seek out both of our best interests.
STACEY: (sarcastically) That’s a great idea. Why don’t you try pitching that to Jill? See what she thinks of it?
IRA: Maybe I will. If anything it should be right up her alley.
(Silence.)
IRA: (sigh) This is all my fault. If I hadn’t brought up Adam Smith, Jill would have never found out how compatible she is with Nigel. Then we would have talked in the morning, worked it all out, and everything would have been just fine. I am such an idiot. (Pause) Sometimes I wish that my life was like a movie on tape. I could just rewind and undo everything that happened tonight. Start at the end and wind up at the beginning.
STACEY: Don’t we all?
(Silence.)
STACEY: (changing the subject) So... How’s the playwright business treating you?
IRA: Same as always. I do some writing every day, but nothing really ever gets published or performed.
STACEY: That’s a shame. What do you do for... you know... money during all of this?
IRA: I work at the diner down the road. Plus I also write the odd story for Reader’s Digest when things get a little tight.
STACEY: Huh. Jill never told me any of this.
IRA: (muttering to himself) Why am I not surprised?
STACEY: What’s that?
IRA: Nothing.
(Shorter silence.)
STACEY: So what are you working on now?
IRA: You mean play-wise?
STACEY: Yeah.
IRA: It’s a five-act tragedy about the stages of grief.
STACEY: Well, that sounds kind of interesting.
IRA: Yeah, it is, but it’s taking me longer than usual to get through it. I finished Bargaining a while ago, and I’m still trying to get through Depression.
STACEY: Sometimes these things take a while.
IRA: Oh, you don’t have to tell me.
(JILL slowly re-enters the stage by walking out of the restroom, embarrassed and ashamed of her actions. NIGEL stays inside for the time being. IRA doesn’t notice JILL’s return until STACEY gestures to him in her direction, at which point he stands up to confront her.)
IRA: Well, well, well. Look who’s back so soon. (Looks at the clock) Well that’s gotta be a new record or something.
JILL: (looking down in shame) Hey Ira.
IRA: You got anything to say for yourself?
(Just as JILL is about to reply, NIGEL marches swiftly out of the restroom and straight towards the front door, making an effort to make eye contact with nobody.)
IRA: (to NIGEL) Where you going?
NIGEL: (still making no eye contact) Home. I’ll talk to you later.
IRA: You can’t walk home out there. Dangerous, tricky bastard, remember?
NIGEL: (picking up his shoes and coat without putting either one on) I somehow feel safer out there than I do in here. Good bye everybody. (Exits.)
STACEY: Can’t say I blame him.
IRA: (back to JILL) So... mind explaining what happened?
JILL: It’s not what it looked like... entirely.
IRA: Okay then. How much of it was what it looked like?
JILL: We didn’t go... all the way.
IRA: Okay then. How much of said “way” did you go?
JILL: (hesitant) I’m in no state to talk about this right now.
IRA: Of course you aren’t.
(Silence.)
JILL: I think it would be best if Stacey and I went back to my place until further instructions.
IRA: But what about Iago?
JILL: We’ll be fine.
IRA: Okay then... Good bye. (Turns his back to her and starts walking away.)
JILL: Ira?
(IRA stops walking, but doesn’t turn back around to see her face.)
IRA: Yeah?
JILL: You have no idea how sorry I am.
IRA: You’re right. I don’t.
JILL: If there’s ever anything that I can do to make this right, don’t hesitate to let me...
(IRA turns around, causing JILL to stop talking momentarily upon seeing his face.)
JILL: (continuing) ... know.
IRA: Anything you can do?
JILL: Yes.
IRA: (repeating himself) Anything you can do?
JILL: Yes, that’s what I said.
IRA: What do you expect me to say to that? You know me better than anyone. You know what my problem is. I have no compassion. I’m too cynical. I’m too Goddamn... existential. How do you plan on making this right? (Pause) You think you can just say you’re sorry and give me a tote bag with your logo it? You think that’ll make everything okay?! No. (Pause) That would only make me think less of you.
JILL: I’m sorry you feel that way. (Pause) Stacey?
(STACEY gets off of the couch and walks over to the front door with JILL. They both put their shoes on, and STACEY grabs her umbrella. Before leaving, the three of them stand around in silence. A few more words are exchanged.)
STACEY: I’m sorry Ira.
IRA: It’s not your fault.
STACEY: (to herself) And yet I feel guilty.
(Silence.)
JILL: (to STACEY) You go ahead. I’ll catch up in a second.
STACEY: Okay. Bye Ira.
IRA: Yeah, see ya Stacey.
(STACEY exits.)
JILL: My offer still stands.
IRA: I know it does.
JILL: Okay... I guess I should get going then.
IRA: I guess so.
JILL: Good bye Ira.
IRA: Yeah, take ’er easy.
(JILL exits for a moment and then almost immediately re-enters.)
JILL: Hey, I almost forgot to tell you something. I think Arthur Miller could beat David Ricardo in a fight.
IRA: You do?
JILL: Yeah. My guys can’t win ’em all. But I think that John Nash could easily take down Shakespeare any day of the week.
IRA: Deal.
(JILL kisses IRA on the cheek.)
JILL: I’ll call you in the morning. We have a lot to talk about. (Exits.)
(IRA touches his cheek on the spot where JILL kissed it, and a tiny smile begins to take shape. It doesn’t last long once the realization that he is now alone again begins to sink in. He paces around the room, trying to mentally take note of everything that just happened. Once passing the pile of blankets and pillows on the table that JILL had retrieved earlier, he knocks them over onto the floor as if to say “Death to Comfort”. The pacing soon subsides, causing him to sit down on the couch to try relaxing. This doesn’t last long, because he remembers something that he had forgotten to do earlier. He gets up, walks over to the TV, takes the disk out of the DVD player, examines it, looks at the clock, puts it back into the DVD player, and sits back down on the couch with the remote in hand. He aims the remote at the TV and says his final line.)
IRA: Annnnnd... The beginning!
CURTAIN
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