WHERE THERE'S A WILL (Comedy - 3m, 1f - character ages 35 to 70)
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hrough a quirk of fate the bard is transported through time to the year 2014 where he lands outside the house of Gordon Coldridge, a struggling playwright with a pushy manager and an estranged girlfriend! Up against a deadline with writer's block due to an ill fated romance? Who best to assist you than William Shakespeare.
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Shakespeare makes a curtain call! (Review)
By Joe Franklin – Bloomberg Radio
I’ve been around, going to and reviewing New York theatre for over sixty years and though I’m not old enough to have known William Shakespeare personally, after watching Joe Simonelli’s new romantic comedy, ‘Where there’s a Will’ , I feel like we’re old friends! The plot revolves around 21st century Staten Island playwright Gordon Coldridge, a moderately successful working playwright with a few published plays and some regional pro theatre under his belt, but still striving to get his big Broadway hit! As portrayed expertly and with ample angst by Tim Weinert, the moody and introspective scribe gambles too much and has trouble moving on from past relationships which seriously threatens his current relationship to his muse Cassandra. (A standout performance by Samantha Rivers Cole in a supporting part) To add to the pressure, his overbearing manager Al, played by playwright Simonelli, who offers a solid character role performance, is after him to finish the play he is struggling with because they have already received a nice advance and the ‘publisher’s deadline is looming.’ Just when all seems lost who shows up to save the day but the ‘Bard’ himself, played effectively by British actor Mark Smith, offering advice and commenting on the modern accoutrements of the day. I’m not going to give away any plot points on how he got there or what happens to him, you’re just going to have to venture over to the American Actors Theatre on West 54th Street to see, and laugh, for yourself! The play is directed adeptly by veteran theatre maven Richmond Shepard. There are only four performances left unless they extend the run, try not to miss them! At just twenty dollars admission, it just may be the cheapest, and funniest play you will see in New York this season! The American Theatre of Actors is located at 314 West 54th Street.Remaining performances are Friday May 2nd and 3rd at 8 pm, with a Saturday and Sunday matinee at 3pm on May 3rd and 4th. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------PRODUCTION HISTORY American Theatre of Actors NYC 2020 (premiere) Unitarian Stage NYC 2021 Cultural Park Theatre FL 2022 First Ave Playhouse NJ 2023 By The Sea productions California 2024 Fort Myers Theatre FL 2024 Marco Island Theatre FL 2024 Cultural Park Theatre FL 2026 check out a video on you tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PR9tlxqah-o&t=1443s SAMPLE DIALOUGE: CAST OF CHARACTERS
Gordon - a playwright 40Will - a playwright 50 Al - an agent 50-60Cassandra 35- 40
Authors Note: For amateur performances only. The F- bomb is dropped here and there throughout the play as an inside theatre joke. Feel free to substitute less egregious verbiage if you feel your audience may be offended. I’ve supplied alternate language in parenthesis. (it does kind of kill the inside theatre joke however)
ACT 1 SCENE 1 SETTING: The living room of Gordon Coleridge in Staten Island, New York. Main entrance is up left. Archway to kitchen is back center. Bedroom is up right. Front door is up left. Window is on wall left. A desk with a lap top computer is down right. Couch, coffee table, bar, bookcase, wing chair and other customary living room furniture is evident. The room is messy. (crumbled papers and clothing strewn about) A plastic skull sits on top of the bookshelf and a small vacuum cleaner rests next to it. AT RISE: Mid- morning. Gordon is sitting at his desk at his computer. His head rests on the desk as he sleeps. (Cell phone starts to ring and he stumbles around looking for it) GORDON. Where is it? (Following the sound he finds it under some clothes on the couch.) Oh shit. Yeah, Hi Al (Allison)….yeah Al, the play? I’m working on it as we speak. Stop nagging me, you’re my agent, not my ex -wife. What do you mean which ex wife? All of them! I know the deadline is next week…Yes, I realize we have to forfeit the advance if I don’t deliver the play…God forbid you have to give back your fifteen percent, but you don’t have to worry about that Al…Why? Because your fifteen percent, the manager’s ten percent and the publisher’s twenty percent all lost to an ace high full house in Atlantic City last weekend. My fifty percent? That lost to a straight flush the hand before. Just my luck there was no bad beat pool at that casino….What do you mean you’re coming over? You’re coming to Staten Island?, From Manhattan? You never come to Staten Island. You’re calling from the ferry? It’s pulling in the terminal. Yeah, we have buses on Staten Island Al. Yeah, taxi’s too. Last I heard we might eventually get Uber and the internet! My place is a five minute cab ride or twenty minute walk from the terminal. You’ll walk? Figures. Okay Al, but I’m pretty tired. I’ve been working all night, I didn’t get much sleep. How’s Cassandra? My girlfriend Cassandra? Don’t ask. We haven’t spoken for a week. Well according to her I’m a flaming asshole. You don’t have to agree with her Al, I’m your client, not her. Between the play deadline and Cass and me having a little trouble it hasn’t been a banner week…yes, that’s right Al, let’s not forget my losing all my money in Atlantic city, thanks for reminding me. Okay, I’ll see you later. (He puts down phone and sits back down at the computer) Al’s coming over. Not good. I’ve got to finish this play. Come on Gordon boy, you got this. You’ve written plenty of plays that are all starting to sound the same. ….(back to laptop) Now where was I? Oh yeah, they just had an argument then (He recites as he types) “She maliciously throws a shoe at him, barely missing as she exits the house stage…? (Looks straight ahead) Audience (Looks right) Stage right? (Looks left) . Stage left. Okay,(recapping to himself) she throws shoe at him, exits front door stage left then…whoa, wait a minute…she can’t leave the house without her shoe! Who does that? Come on Gordon, you got this….Oh yeah..(starts typing) She returns to retrieve her shoe, realizes the colossal mistake she has made, apologizes to him profusely, and they make passionate love on the living room couch. Then, she gets up and exits stage left. (stops typing) Yeah, in a perfect word. (Hits the button) Delete. Okay, what if we switch apartments? I make it her apartment and she throws the shoe at him as he’s leaving. That’s it! Now all I have to do is rewrite act one! Yeah, that’s not happening. (He stands) Think Gordon think. What do you do when you get writer's block? Oh yeah…internet poker! Nah, no money in the account. Internet porn? (looks at his right hand) Nah, I’m too tired. I need a power nap. (He lays down on the couch and there is a knock on the door) I don’t need a power nap. Who is it? CASSANDRA. (from off) Your ex girlfriend. GORDON. Ex girlfriend? Ah, she doesn’t mean it.(He sits up) And even if she does….Hello, make up sex! Come in, it’s open. (Cassandra enters carrying a box of Gordon’s belongings and an empty shopping bag. She places box down on coffee table and empty bag on the wing chair.. Later Gordan will place the box next to the couch where it will remain the entire play. CASSANDRA. Here’s your stuff Gordon. (She marches off to bedroom and comes out with an arm full of various articles of clothing and places them in the bag. The last item is a skimpy night gown which she displays to Gordon ) CASSANDRA. Remember this little number? GORDON. That was my favorite. CASSANDRA. Well from now on I’m the only one who’s going to wear it. GORDON. Damn. CASSANDRA. That about does it. Now there is no reason for us to ever speak again. Wait! (She exits once more to the bedroom) GORDON. (lifting night gown) Well it never fir me right anyway. He sits as Cassandra re-enters with a set of handcuff’s which she deliberately holds above the bag, releases, and it falls in.) GORDON. Oh you wouldn’t. Not the handcuffs? (She crosses to door to exit giving Gordon a dirty look on every following line) GORDON. Sure, make this about me... So I’ll call you later? I love you!? CASSANDRA. Gordon, you are a flawed individual vibrating at a very low level. GORDON. You’re the first person who’s ever told me that. (She exits abruptly) Thinks she’s so smug. (Picks up box) At least I got a cardboard box out of this relationship.(goes through box) Let’s see…Toothbrush, Sweat shirt, another sweat shirt. Another sweat shirt. Maybe I should upgrade my wardrobe. What’s this,(sweetly) My Valentines card to her from last year. Oh, and look at this, she drew the international NO symbol all over the front. And my picture, also with the international NO symbol drawn over the front. I am now an international dating pariah. (NOTE:The international NO sign is denoted by a red circle with a diagonal line through it.) (he continues searching frantically for something) Hey, where’s my Neil Simon Bobble Head? She forgot to return my Neil Simon Bobble head. I loved that thing. {ALTERNATE DIALOGUE} Hey Where’s my David Mamet bobble head? She forgot to return my fucking David Mamet Bobble head! Ah fuck Mamet. (He moves box to the side of the couch lies on the couch) I can’t deal with this now, I’m exhausted. (He starts to nod off and there is another knock at the door, he sits up) She’s back! The “I love you’s” get ‘em every time! (he goes to the door) Coming my sweet. (he opens the door) I love you! (Al enters) AL. I love you too, now get back to work. GORDON. (Despondent) Oh, hi Al. AL. Hey, don’t act so happy to see me. After all, I come to Staten Island how often? Oh yeah…never. GORDON. (deadpan) Great Al, I’m thrilled you’re here. AL. I ran into Cassandra outside. What’s with her? GORDON. What do you mean? AL. I asked her how she was and she told me she never wanted to see you again. GORDON. I told you we were having a little trouble. AL. You having a little trouble is like the Titanic having a little leak. GORDON. She’s just a bit upset. She’ll get over it. AL. No doubt. And she’ll probably get over you too. Permanently! You know I don’t get you. She’s a lovely woman. What did you do to her? GORDON. Oh sure, lay the blame at my feet. AL. It’s not just her….how long have I been your agent? GORDON. Too long if you ask me. AL. That’s gratitude for you. Eleven years. GORDON. (correcting him) Thirteen years, but it seems like thirty. AL. Thirteen years we’ve been together. Thirteen years of my fraternal nurturing. Of carefully crafting every nuance of your career and what do I get for it? GORDON. You get awfully annoying, that’s what you get. You also get fifteen percent of everything I write. AL. And now you’re bringing up money. Is that all you think this relationship is about? The lousy money? GORDON. I’m glad you feel that way Al. Let’s lower your cut to ten percent. AL. You know I would, but you’d only gamble away the extra five percent. And why do you gamble so much anyway? GORDON. My brother gambled, my grandfather gambled, and his grandfather gambled. I’m just trying to keep up the family tradition. AL. How come your father never gambled? GORDON. Who knows, maybe it skips a generation. AL. You know Gordon, you may be a talented writer, but you are a very flawed individual. GORDON. Really, you’re the second person who’s pointed that out to me today. AL. You should learn how to manage your money better….hey, you know what would be a great idea!? Gordon. No, what? AL. I take that extra five percent you mentioned and invest it for you! You know, sock it away in a retirement account for your golden years. GORDON. You’d do that for me Al? Al. No, but it would be a great idea. GORDON. (Losing patience) Goodbye Al. AL. What are you goodby-ing me for? I just got here. You got any bananas? GORDON. I don’t think so. I just bought some tangelos if you want one. AL. No, it’s got to be a banana. It’s a new diet. I’ve got to eat at least two bananas a day. GORDON. A banana diet? Does it work? AL. Have you ever seen a fat monkey? GORDON. Funny. And I thought vaudeville was dead. AL. If you don’t like that one I can think of plenty more. GORDON. Why can’t you just think of a way to get one of my plays to Broadway? AL. Why are you complaining? I’ve gotten your plays into plenty of theaters. GORDON. Plenty of amateur, community theaters. AL. Yeah, all around the country…and those royalties are starting to add up. Ten plays published and another on the way, for which you have just squandered a big advance. GORDON. I need professional productions. My stuff is as good as anybody’s. AL. I’ve gotten you professional productions. Didn’t I get you the Barter theatre last year? GORDON. No, I got me the Barter theatre last year, through an email inquiry. And you still took your fifteen percent. AL. Don’t muddy the water with details. The Barter is the State Theatre of Virginia. Broadway quality shows. This isn’t the nineteen seventies anymore where you can have three plays running on Broadway at one time. Today it’s all big business and bottom line. Why do you want to fool around with Broadway when you have a bright future in regional theater? GORDON. Why does any playwright want to be on Broadway? AL. I don’t know. To get skewered by the New York Times? GORDON. Again, goodbye Al. AL. You’ve got to learn to be more sociable. No wonder Cassandra left you. GORDON. Oh, she left me? She left me huh. Well maybe I got rid of her. AL. Yeah right. I know you for too long…they all leave you. You drive them crazy. But Cassandra…if there ever was a “keeper” it’s her. She was your muse the past three years! GORDON. She was? AL. Of course she was! You’ve written two of your best plays in the last three years! What the hell is wrong with you? GORDON. Oh my God, you’re right. She was. AL. That woman had the patience of a saint. And you go screw it up just like you screwed up two marriages and four other relationships. That’s a lot of screw up’s in eleven years! Gordon. Thirteen years. Wait…my first marriage was before I even knew you. AL. Granted. But you still have a pretty bad track record. GORDON. Well you can’t count those other relationships. AL. Why not? GORDON. Because Cassandra is different than those other woman. AL. Really, how so? GORDON. All those other women were…, they were…what’s the word I’m looking for? AL. Bar trollops, Pole dancers. Hookers? GORDON. Are you kidding? That would have entailed temporary pleasure before the misery started. No, I’m referring to that other word. AL. Oh, you mean they were all actresses. GORDON. Bingo! That’s the word. Needy, drive me crazy, no part is ever big enough, actresses. AL. I told you not to socialize with them during the run of a play. GORDON. Who socialized? You know actors and actresses show up here unannounced all the time. These women used to show up here at the house to discuss a scene and never leave. AL. And I’m sure you put up a big fight. GORDON. That’s beside the point. Anyway, Cassandra is no actress. AL. She pretended to like you for three years. GORDON. Funny Al. Maybe you should write the plays and I’ll take the fifteen percent. AL. I am going to ignore that remark and address your current lack of muse dilemma. GORDON. What do we do? AL. We’ve got to get her back so you can finish writing. GORDON. Obviously, but how? AL. Have you tried begging? GORDON. Not yet but I’ll consider it. Al. How about Groveling? GORDON. Absolutely. I groveled twice. Didn’t work. AL. (getting exasperated) Flowers? Candy? Jewelry! GORDON. I’m Broke! Broke! Broke! Remember? AL. Oh yeah, I forgot. GORDON. Besides, money means nothing to Cassie. She’s a romantic. She’s with me because of my charm, talent, devil may care sense of adventure. AL. (laughing in disbelief) Yeah right…(a beat) Hey, maybe I can get you another advance from the publisher. Is there a jewelry store around here? GORDON. Would you forget the jewelry! AL. Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures. GORDON. What are you going to do? Al. Talk to her myself. (He pulls out his cell phone) What’s her number? Wait, I think I have it saved. GORDON. What are you doing with my girlfriend’s phone number? AL. Ex-girlfriend….I’m an agent, I have everybody’s number. GORDON. (Patting him on the shoulder) You’re a good friend Al. AL. Don’t forget it…..(to phone) Hello Cassandra? It’s Al. Well, ah, no Gordon is not putting me up to this. I just thought that you and he were together so long that…oh really? Oh really? Hmm, well when you put it that way…no kidding, that long huh?...I don’t know, I’ll ask him. (To Gordon) Have you seen the key to the handcuff’s anywhere? GORDON. No, but a bobby pin works sometimes. Al. No, he hasn’t seen it but he says…oh, you heard. Tell him he can do what with that bobby pin? Okay, I’ll let him know. Bye. (to Gordon) She said you can shove that bobby pin… GORDON. Yeah, thanks, you don’t have to spell it out Al. So, got any other idea’s oh super agent? AL. Well according to Cassandra we can always wait till hell freezes over. GORDON. I don’t think the publisher’s going to wait that long. What else you got? AL. Well, I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but I guess we’ll just have to go with plan B. GORDON. I know I’ll probably regret this but what exactly is plan B? AL. I visit her personally and lay on the old charm. What’s her address? GORDON. You mean the same “old charm” that just didn’t work on the phone is going to work in person? AL. Got any better suggestions? GORDON. Gee Al, I don’t think you going over there is such a great idea. After all, I have my pride you know. Sending you over there on my behalf is just… AL. Just what? GORDON. (As he’s writing on a pad) Well it’s humiliating, demeaning, underhanded. (Hands Al paper) Here’s her address, what are you going to say. AL. Just leave it to me. You know, before I was an agent I was a Broadway booking manager. We can be pretty persuasive. Remember CATS? GORDON. Who? Harry Katz the entertainment lawyer? AL .No. CATS the musical. GORDON. Al, you? You got CATS to Broadway? Al. Certainly not. But I’m sure someone pretty persuasive did. GORDON. (Pushing towards the door) Just go Al… I’ve got to take a nap. (he lies on the couch) AL. Good Idea. Take a nice short power nap then get up and start writing again. I’ll bring back lunch. (He notices the plastic skull on the bookshelf and holds it up in front of him) A little early for Halloween, isn’t it? Anyone I know? (He tosses the skull to Gordon on the couch and opens the door ) hey, looks like rain, you got an umbrella? GORDON. What would a recluse who never leaves the house be doing with an umbrella? Walk between the drops. Bring back some pastrami. And Al? AL. Yeah. GORDON. If the charm doesn’t work on her. Just try begging. Al. Gotcha! (He exits) GORDON. (Holding skull) I guess you don’t have to worry about writers block anymore pal. (He places the skull on the coffee table and falls asleep. A few beats and some lightning flashes and thunder are heard and seen through window accompanied by ‘angelic’ music. Then all is quiet as there is knocking at the door. Gordon groggily gets up to answer it.) GORDON. Looks like I’m never going to get any sleep. (He opens the door to find William Shakespeare standing there in traditional Elizabethan garb .On occasion Will may hear a new word such as ‘lap top’ and repeat the word as the actor playing Gordon says it thinking this is the correct pronunciation. I.E. if the actor has a heavy New York accent, Will would repeat any new word he heard that way. It is up to both actor and director to determine when in the play Gordon comes to realize that Will is actually Shakespeare) WILL. Good day sir. Might I, perchance, seek temporary shelter in your manor? GORDON. Oh no. Not another one… Nice costume fellow but we’re not auditioning for any Shakespeare this season. (Starts to Close door) WILL. How dost thou know my name? Tis certain we have never met. GORDON. What are you talking about? WILL. Pray thee, may I enter? I fear it may commence to rain anon. GORDON. Why not. This may be good for a laugh. Besides, you went through all the trouble of dressing up. Where did you rent the costume? WILL. (As he enters) These garments are mine own sir. (He looks around) Such strange surroundings…tis thus astounded am I! I pray you, what is that device on yonder table? GORDON. What device? Oh, you mean the lap top? WILL. (walks towards lap top which is on and glowing) Such illume! Soft, what light breaks from yonder lap top. And there is writing on it! What form of trickery is this? Tis thus astounded am I! GORDON. Alright, this has gone far enough. But I have to admit, you are pretty good. Now who put you up to this? My publisher? Al? WILL. Pray, but tell me what year this be? GORDON. Okay pal, that does it. (Gordon starts pushing him towards the door) I told you you’re good and I’d be happy to read you for a part if I ever want to do a re-interpretation of Hamlet? WILL. You know of my play? GORDON. (Putting him on ) Oh, your play? Oh sure, sure pal. I’ve heard of all thirty eight but I’m really busy and I have a feeling that some guys wearing white coats may be outside searching for you. WILL. (crosses center) Thirty eight? But tis only thirty six I’ve writ so far. GORDON. Yeah, some people had a feeling you didn’t write the last few, who did, Francis Bacon? (he chuckles) WILL. (exasperated he backs Gordonl to door)) Bacon!? That lack wit. Second rate. John Fletcher is the poet I have written with of late. At least mention you not The Earl of Oxford. GORDON. Earl of Oxford? I was going to mention The Earl of Sandwich but that’s only cause I skipped breakfast. WILL. Prithee, kind sir, what is your name? I am a stranger here. GORDON. I’ll say you are. (Gordon crosses center to get away from him) WILL. How could I expect you to understand? You could not possibly. Pray, allow me but an opportunity to explain. GORDON. Come on, are we really going to do this? WILL. Do what? GORDON. Sure, why not. This may prove to be interesting. Let’s hear your story. WILL. May I sit for a moment? For I fear I have just been through a great ordeal. GORDON. Knock yourself out. WILL. Pray thee? Why should I wish to harm myself. GORDON. Many pardons. I beseech thee. Perchance if thou would sitest on yonder throne. (Indicating wing chair) WILL. Before I tell you of my tale…perchance, humor me kind sir, by telling me what year this be? GORDON. (sits on couch) This be the year two thousand and twenty. As if thou didn’t knowest.
By Joe Franklin – Bloomberg Radio
I’ve been around, going to and reviewing New York theatre for over sixty years and though I’m not old enough to have known William Shakespeare personally, after watching Joe Simonelli’s new romantic comedy, ‘Where there’s a Will’ , I feel like we’re old friends! The plot revolves around 21st century Staten Island playwright Gordon Coldridge, a moderately successful working playwright with a few published plays and some regional pro theatre under his belt, but still striving to get his big Broadway hit! As portrayed expertly and with ample angst by Tim Weinert, the moody and introspective scribe gambles too much and has trouble moving on from past relationships which seriously threatens his current relationship to his muse Cassandra. (A standout performance by Samantha Rivers Cole in a supporting part) To add to the pressure, his overbearing manager Al, played by playwright Simonelli, who offers a solid character role performance, is after him to finish the play he is struggling with because they have already received a nice advance and the ‘publisher’s deadline is looming.’ Just when all seems lost who shows up to save the day but the ‘Bard’ himself, played effectively by British actor Mark Smith, offering advice and commenting on the modern accoutrements of the day. I’m not going to give away any plot points on how he got there or what happens to him, you’re just going to have to venture over to the American Actors Theatre on West 54th Street to see, and laugh, for yourself! The play is directed adeptly by veteran theatre maven Richmond Shepard. There are only four performances left unless they extend the run, try not to miss them! At just twenty dollars admission, it just may be the cheapest, and funniest play you will see in New York this season! The American Theatre of Actors is located at 314 West 54th Street.Remaining performances are Friday May 2nd and 3rd at 8 pm, with a Saturday and Sunday matinee at 3pm on May 3rd and 4th. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------PRODUCTION HISTORY American Theatre of Actors NYC 2020 (premiere) Unitarian Stage NYC 2021 Cultural Park Theatre FL 2022 First Ave Playhouse NJ 2023 By The Sea productions California 2024 Fort Myers Theatre FL 2024 Marco Island Theatre FL 2024 Cultural Park Theatre FL 2026 check out a video on you tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PR9tlxqah-o&t=1443s SAMPLE DIALOUGE: CAST OF CHARACTERS
Gordon - a playwright 40Will - a playwright 50 Al - an agent 50-60Cassandra 35- 40
Authors Note: For amateur performances only. The F- bomb is dropped here and there throughout the play as an inside theatre joke. Feel free to substitute less egregious verbiage if you feel your audience may be offended. I’ve supplied alternate language in parenthesis. (it does kind of kill the inside theatre joke however)
ACT 1 SCENE 1 SETTING: The living room of Gordon Coleridge in Staten Island, New York. Main entrance is up left. Archway to kitchen is back center. Bedroom is up right. Front door is up left. Window is on wall left. A desk with a lap top computer is down right. Couch, coffee table, bar, bookcase, wing chair and other customary living room furniture is evident. The room is messy. (crumbled papers and clothing strewn about) A plastic skull sits on top of the bookshelf and a small vacuum cleaner rests next to it. AT RISE: Mid- morning. Gordon is sitting at his desk at his computer. His head rests on the desk as he sleeps. (Cell phone starts to ring and he stumbles around looking for it) GORDON. Where is it? (Following the sound he finds it under some clothes on the couch.) Oh shit. Yeah, Hi Al (Allison)….yeah Al, the play? I’m working on it as we speak. Stop nagging me, you’re my agent, not my ex -wife. What do you mean which ex wife? All of them! I know the deadline is next week…Yes, I realize we have to forfeit the advance if I don’t deliver the play…God forbid you have to give back your fifteen percent, but you don’t have to worry about that Al…Why? Because your fifteen percent, the manager’s ten percent and the publisher’s twenty percent all lost to an ace high full house in Atlantic City last weekend. My fifty percent? That lost to a straight flush the hand before. Just my luck there was no bad beat pool at that casino….What do you mean you’re coming over? You’re coming to Staten Island?, From Manhattan? You never come to Staten Island. You’re calling from the ferry? It’s pulling in the terminal. Yeah, we have buses on Staten Island Al. Yeah, taxi’s too. Last I heard we might eventually get Uber and the internet! My place is a five minute cab ride or twenty minute walk from the terminal. You’ll walk? Figures. Okay Al, but I’m pretty tired. I’ve been working all night, I didn’t get much sleep. How’s Cassandra? My girlfriend Cassandra? Don’t ask. We haven’t spoken for a week. Well according to her I’m a flaming asshole. You don’t have to agree with her Al, I’m your client, not her. Between the play deadline and Cass and me having a little trouble it hasn’t been a banner week…yes, that’s right Al, let’s not forget my losing all my money in Atlantic city, thanks for reminding me. Okay, I’ll see you later. (He puts down phone and sits back down at the computer) Al’s coming over. Not good. I’ve got to finish this play. Come on Gordon boy, you got this. You’ve written plenty of plays that are all starting to sound the same. ….(back to laptop) Now where was I? Oh yeah, they just had an argument then (He recites as he types) “She maliciously throws a shoe at him, barely missing as she exits the house stage…? (Looks straight ahead) Audience (Looks right) Stage right? (Looks left) . Stage left. Okay,(recapping to himself) she throws shoe at him, exits front door stage left then…whoa, wait a minute…she can’t leave the house without her shoe! Who does that? Come on Gordon, you got this….Oh yeah..(starts typing) She returns to retrieve her shoe, realizes the colossal mistake she has made, apologizes to him profusely, and they make passionate love on the living room couch. Then, she gets up and exits stage left. (stops typing) Yeah, in a perfect word. (Hits the button) Delete. Okay, what if we switch apartments? I make it her apartment and she throws the shoe at him as he’s leaving. That’s it! Now all I have to do is rewrite act one! Yeah, that’s not happening. (He stands) Think Gordon think. What do you do when you get writer's block? Oh yeah…internet poker! Nah, no money in the account. Internet porn? (looks at his right hand) Nah, I’m too tired. I need a power nap. (He lays down on the couch and there is a knock on the door) I don’t need a power nap. Who is it? CASSANDRA. (from off) Your ex girlfriend. GORDON. Ex girlfriend? Ah, she doesn’t mean it.(He sits up) And even if she does….Hello, make up sex! Come in, it’s open. (Cassandra enters carrying a box of Gordon’s belongings and an empty shopping bag. She places box down on coffee table and empty bag on the wing chair.. Later Gordan will place the box next to the couch where it will remain the entire play. CASSANDRA. Here’s your stuff Gordon. (She marches off to bedroom and comes out with an arm full of various articles of clothing and places them in the bag. The last item is a skimpy night gown which she displays to Gordon ) CASSANDRA. Remember this little number? GORDON. That was my favorite. CASSANDRA. Well from now on I’m the only one who’s going to wear it. GORDON. Damn. CASSANDRA. That about does it. Now there is no reason for us to ever speak again. Wait! (She exits once more to the bedroom) GORDON. (lifting night gown) Well it never fir me right anyway. He sits as Cassandra re-enters with a set of handcuff’s which she deliberately holds above the bag, releases, and it falls in.) GORDON. Oh you wouldn’t. Not the handcuffs? (She crosses to door to exit giving Gordon a dirty look on every following line) GORDON. Sure, make this about me... So I’ll call you later? I love you!? CASSANDRA. Gordon, you are a flawed individual vibrating at a very low level. GORDON. You’re the first person who’s ever told me that. (She exits abruptly) Thinks she’s so smug. (Picks up box) At least I got a cardboard box out of this relationship.(goes through box) Let’s see…Toothbrush, Sweat shirt, another sweat shirt. Another sweat shirt. Maybe I should upgrade my wardrobe. What’s this,(sweetly) My Valentines card to her from last year. Oh, and look at this, she drew the international NO symbol all over the front. And my picture, also with the international NO symbol drawn over the front. I am now an international dating pariah. (NOTE:The international NO sign is denoted by a red circle with a diagonal line through it.) (he continues searching frantically for something) Hey, where’s my Neil Simon Bobble Head? She forgot to return my Neil Simon Bobble head. I loved that thing. {ALTERNATE DIALOGUE} Hey Where’s my David Mamet bobble head? She forgot to return my fucking David Mamet Bobble head! Ah fuck Mamet. (He moves box to the side of the couch lies on the couch) I can’t deal with this now, I’m exhausted. (He starts to nod off and there is another knock at the door, he sits up) She’s back! The “I love you’s” get ‘em every time! (he goes to the door) Coming my sweet. (he opens the door) I love you! (Al enters) AL. I love you too, now get back to work. GORDON. (Despondent) Oh, hi Al. AL. Hey, don’t act so happy to see me. After all, I come to Staten Island how often? Oh yeah…never. GORDON. (deadpan) Great Al, I’m thrilled you’re here. AL. I ran into Cassandra outside. What’s with her? GORDON. What do you mean? AL. I asked her how she was and she told me she never wanted to see you again. GORDON. I told you we were having a little trouble. AL. You having a little trouble is like the Titanic having a little leak. GORDON. She’s just a bit upset. She’ll get over it. AL. No doubt. And she’ll probably get over you too. Permanently! You know I don’t get you. She’s a lovely woman. What did you do to her? GORDON. Oh sure, lay the blame at my feet. AL. It’s not just her….how long have I been your agent? GORDON. Too long if you ask me. AL. That’s gratitude for you. Eleven years. GORDON. (correcting him) Thirteen years, but it seems like thirty. AL. Thirteen years we’ve been together. Thirteen years of my fraternal nurturing. Of carefully crafting every nuance of your career and what do I get for it? GORDON. You get awfully annoying, that’s what you get. You also get fifteen percent of everything I write. AL. And now you’re bringing up money. Is that all you think this relationship is about? The lousy money? GORDON. I’m glad you feel that way Al. Let’s lower your cut to ten percent. AL. You know I would, but you’d only gamble away the extra five percent. And why do you gamble so much anyway? GORDON. My brother gambled, my grandfather gambled, and his grandfather gambled. I’m just trying to keep up the family tradition. AL. How come your father never gambled? GORDON. Who knows, maybe it skips a generation. AL. You know Gordon, you may be a talented writer, but you are a very flawed individual. GORDON. Really, you’re the second person who’s pointed that out to me today. AL. You should learn how to manage your money better….hey, you know what would be a great idea!? Gordon. No, what? AL. I take that extra five percent you mentioned and invest it for you! You know, sock it away in a retirement account for your golden years. GORDON. You’d do that for me Al? Al. No, but it would be a great idea. GORDON. (Losing patience) Goodbye Al. AL. What are you goodby-ing me for? I just got here. You got any bananas? GORDON. I don’t think so. I just bought some tangelos if you want one. AL. No, it’s got to be a banana. It’s a new diet. I’ve got to eat at least two bananas a day. GORDON. A banana diet? Does it work? AL. Have you ever seen a fat monkey? GORDON. Funny. And I thought vaudeville was dead. AL. If you don’t like that one I can think of plenty more. GORDON. Why can’t you just think of a way to get one of my plays to Broadway? AL. Why are you complaining? I’ve gotten your plays into plenty of theaters. GORDON. Plenty of amateur, community theaters. AL. Yeah, all around the country…and those royalties are starting to add up. Ten plays published and another on the way, for which you have just squandered a big advance. GORDON. I need professional productions. My stuff is as good as anybody’s. AL. I’ve gotten you professional productions. Didn’t I get you the Barter theatre last year? GORDON. No, I got me the Barter theatre last year, through an email inquiry. And you still took your fifteen percent. AL. Don’t muddy the water with details. The Barter is the State Theatre of Virginia. Broadway quality shows. This isn’t the nineteen seventies anymore where you can have three plays running on Broadway at one time. Today it’s all big business and bottom line. Why do you want to fool around with Broadway when you have a bright future in regional theater? GORDON. Why does any playwright want to be on Broadway? AL. I don’t know. To get skewered by the New York Times? GORDON. Again, goodbye Al. AL. You’ve got to learn to be more sociable. No wonder Cassandra left you. GORDON. Oh, she left me? She left me huh. Well maybe I got rid of her. AL. Yeah right. I know you for too long…they all leave you. You drive them crazy. But Cassandra…if there ever was a “keeper” it’s her. She was your muse the past three years! GORDON. She was? AL. Of course she was! You’ve written two of your best plays in the last three years! What the hell is wrong with you? GORDON. Oh my God, you’re right. She was. AL. That woman had the patience of a saint. And you go screw it up just like you screwed up two marriages and four other relationships. That’s a lot of screw up’s in eleven years! Gordon. Thirteen years. Wait…my first marriage was before I even knew you. AL. Granted. But you still have a pretty bad track record. GORDON. Well you can’t count those other relationships. AL. Why not? GORDON. Because Cassandra is different than those other woman. AL. Really, how so? GORDON. All those other women were…, they were…what’s the word I’m looking for? AL. Bar trollops, Pole dancers. Hookers? GORDON. Are you kidding? That would have entailed temporary pleasure before the misery started. No, I’m referring to that other word. AL. Oh, you mean they were all actresses. GORDON. Bingo! That’s the word. Needy, drive me crazy, no part is ever big enough, actresses. AL. I told you not to socialize with them during the run of a play. GORDON. Who socialized? You know actors and actresses show up here unannounced all the time. These women used to show up here at the house to discuss a scene and never leave. AL. And I’m sure you put up a big fight. GORDON. That’s beside the point. Anyway, Cassandra is no actress. AL. She pretended to like you for three years. GORDON. Funny Al. Maybe you should write the plays and I’ll take the fifteen percent. AL. I am going to ignore that remark and address your current lack of muse dilemma. GORDON. What do we do? AL. We’ve got to get her back so you can finish writing. GORDON. Obviously, but how? AL. Have you tried begging? GORDON. Not yet but I’ll consider it. Al. How about Groveling? GORDON. Absolutely. I groveled twice. Didn’t work. AL. (getting exasperated) Flowers? Candy? Jewelry! GORDON. I’m Broke! Broke! Broke! Remember? AL. Oh yeah, I forgot. GORDON. Besides, money means nothing to Cassie. She’s a romantic. She’s with me because of my charm, talent, devil may care sense of adventure. AL. (laughing in disbelief) Yeah right…(a beat) Hey, maybe I can get you another advance from the publisher. Is there a jewelry store around here? GORDON. Would you forget the jewelry! AL. Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures. GORDON. What are you going to do? Al. Talk to her myself. (He pulls out his cell phone) What’s her number? Wait, I think I have it saved. GORDON. What are you doing with my girlfriend’s phone number? AL. Ex-girlfriend….I’m an agent, I have everybody’s number. GORDON. (Patting him on the shoulder) You’re a good friend Al. AL. Don’t forget it…..(to phone) Hello Cassandra? It’s Al. Well, ah, no Gordon is not putting me up to this. I just thought that you and he were together so long that…oh really? Oh really? Hmm, well when you put it that way…no kidding, that long huh?...I don’t know, I’ll ask him. (To Gordon) Have you seen the key to the handcuff’s anywhere? GORDON. No, but a bobby pin works sometimes. Al. No, he hasn’t seen it but he says…oh, you heard. Tell him he can do what with that bobby pin? Okay, I’ll let him know. Bye. (to Gordon) She said you can shove that bobby pin… GORDON. Yeah, thanks, you don’t have to spell it out Al. So, got any other idea’s oh super agent? AL. Well according to Cassandra we can always wait till hell freezes over. GORDON. I don’t think the publisher’s going to wait that long. What else you got? AL. Well, I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but I guess we’ll just have to go with plan B. GORDON. I know I’ll probably regret this but what exactly is plan B? AL. I visit her personally and lay on the old charm. What’s her address? GORDON. You mean the same “old charm” that just didn’t work on the phone is going to work in person? AL. Got any better suggestions? GORDON. Gee Al, I don’t think you going over there is such a great idea. After all, I have my pride you know. Sending you over there on my behalf is just… AL. Just what? GORDON. (As he’s writing on a pad) Well it’s humiliating, demeaning, underhanded. (Hands Al paper) Here’s her address, what are you going to say. AL. Just leave it to me. You know, before I was an agent I was a Broadway booking manager. We can be pretty persuasive. Remember CATS? GORDON. Who? Harry Katz the entertainment lawyer? AL .No. CATS the musical. GORDON. Al, you? You got CATS to Broadway? Al. Certainly not. But I’m sure someone pretty persuasive did. GORDON. (Pushing towards the door) Just go Al… I’ve got to take a nap. (he lies on the couch) AL. Good Idea. Take a nice short power nap then get up and start writing again. I’ll bring back lunch. (He notices the plastic skull on the bookshelf and holds it up in front of him) A little early for Halloween, isn’t it? Anyone I know? (He tosses the skull to Gordon on the couch and opens the door ) hey, looks like rain, you got an umbrella? GORDON. What would a recluse who never leaves the house be doing with an umbrella? Walk between the drops. Bring back some pastrami. And Al? AL. Yeah. GORDON. If the charm doesn’t work on her. Just try begging. Al. Gotcha! (He exits) GORDON. (Holding skull) I guess you don’t have to worry about writers block anymore pal. (He places the skull on the coffee table and falls asleep. A few beats and some lightning flashes and thunder are heard and seen through window accompanied by ‘angelic’ music. Then all is quiet as there is knocking at the door. Gordon groggily gets up to answer it.) GORDON. Looks like I’m never going to get any sleep. (He opens the door to find William Shakespeare standing there in traditional Elizabethan garb .On occasion Will may hear a new word such as ‘lap top’ and repeat the word as the actor playing Gordon says it thinking this is the correct pronunciation. I.E. if the actor has a heavy New York accent, Will would repeat any new word he heard that way. It is up to both actor and director to determine when in the play Gordon comes to realize that Will is actually Shakespeare) WILL. Good day sir. Might I, perchance, seek temporary shelter in your manor? GORDON. Oh no. Not another one… Nice costume fellow but we’re not auditioning for any Shakespeare this season. (Starts to Close door) WILL. How dost thou know my name? Tis certain we have never met. GORDON. What are you talking about? WILL. Pray thee, may I enter? I fear it may commence to rain anon. GORDON. Why not. This may be good for a laugh. Besides, you went through all the trouble of dressing up. Where did you rent the costume? WILL. (As he enters) These garments are mine own sir. (He looks around) Such strange surroundings…tis thus astounded am I! I pray you, what is that device on yonder table? GORDON. What device? Oh, you mean the lap top? WILL. (walks towards lap top which is on and glowing) Such illume! Soft, what light breaks from yonder lap top. And there is writing on it! What form of trickery is this? Tis thus astounded am I! GORDON. Alright, this has gone far enough. But I have to admit, you are pretty good. Now who put you up to this? My publisher? Al? WILL. Pray, but tell me what year this be? GORDON. Okay pal, that does it. (Gordon starts pushing him towards the door) I told you you’re good and I’d be happy to read you for a part if I ever want to do a re-interpretation of Hamlet? WILL. You know of my play? GORDON. (Putting him on ) Oh, your play? Oh sure, sure pal. I’ve heard of all thirty eight but I’m really busy and I have a feeling that some guys wearing white coats may be outside searching for you. WILL. (crosses center) Thirty eight? But tis only thirty six I’ve writ so far. GORDON. Yeah, some people had a feeling you didn’t write the last few, who did, Francis Bacon? (he chuckles) WILL. (exasperated he backs Gordonl to door)) Bacon!? That lack wit. Second rate. John Fletcher is the poet I have written with of late. At least mention you not The Earl of Oxford. GORDON. Earl of Oxford? I was going to mention The Earl of Sandwich but that’s only cause I skipped breakfast. WILL. Prithee, kind sir, what is your name? I am a stranger here. GORDON. I’ll say you are. (Gordon crosses center to get away from him) WILL. How could I expect you to understand? You could not possibly. Pray, allow me but an opportunity to explain. GORDON. Come on, are we really going to do this? WILL. Do what? GORDON. Sure, why not. This may prove to be interesting. Let’s hear your story. WILL. May I sit for a moment? For I fear I have just been through a great ordeal. GORDON. Knock yourself out. WILL. Pray thee? Why should I wish to harm myself. GORDON. Many pardons. I beseech thee. Perchance if thou would sitest on yonder throne. (Indicating wing chair) WILL. Before I tell you of my tale…perchance, humor me kind sir, by telling me what year this be? GORDON. (sits on couch) This be the year two thousand and twenty. As if thou didn’t knowest.