DEATH ON CLOUD ELEVEN
© BENJAMÍN GAVARRE SILVA
Contacte a esta dirección si la ha producido o desea hacerlo: gavarreunam@gmail.com
Death on cloud eleven is a comic farce where there are no solemn trials or eternal fire, but a check-in counter staffed by tired bureaucratic angels and a God with the look of a surfer who plays dice. After dying in an absurd gas explosion, five characters must face their final test: to let go of their heavy emotional baggage (their grudges, their fears and their toupees) to discover that the secret of existence was not suffering. Between stamps, windows and ridiculous confessions, they will discover that the only way to get through the final door is to stop taking themselves so seriously. An absurd comedy about how light the spirit becomes when it finally lets go of the ballast.
STAGING & STYLE NOTES
·Tone: Farcical comedy. Fast-paced rhythm ("Ping-pong dialogue"). Melodrama and solemnity are forbidden; sadness must be played with strangeness or irony.
·Improvisation: In the "Absurd Judgment" section, physical and exaggerated improv is encouraged.
·Lighting: Expressionist. Saturated colors. Sharp changes from cold white light (bureaucracy) to warm or colorful lights (moments of truth or party).
·Costumes: Professional or circumstantial clothes from "Earth," but altered with "Afterlife" elements (cheap nativity play angel wings, neon halos, a lizard tail poking out, a dislocated collarbone, an exposed ribcage, or someone carrying their own arm).
· Makeup: Extreme in some cases (very red or blue faces, dramatically runny mascara, a perfect artificial tan).
CHARACTERS
·THE HANDLER (Mr. Lavin): A tired celestial bureaucrat. Wears an impeccable but wrinkled white suit. Has a giant rubber stamp.
·THE ARCHIVIST (Mr. Galvin): Volatile. Sometimes severe, sometimes ridiculous. Carries huge books/tablet. Doesn't give a damn about anyone's fate, until he decides he wants to be a "bitch."
·THE BOSS (Formerly Julian): An enigmatic but jovial figure. Looks like a relaxed surfer. It is implied he is the Divinity or the System Director, but he prefers no labels. Plays dice (literally or metaphorically).
·THE APPLICANTS:
GAVIN: Thinks he’s at a VIP Resort. Vain to the bone.
RAYMOND: Obsessed with order. Thinks he’s at the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles).
LILITH: Recovering drama queen. Thinks she’s in an Airport VIP Lounge.
RHONDA: Obsessive-compulsive housewife. Carries imaginary bags of grudges (and a real iron).
PENNY: An eternal child. The only one who understands (or intuits) the truth quickly.
SCENE ONE: THE WAITING ROOM OF CONFUSION
(Total darkness. A giant "POP" sound is heard, like a cork flying out of a bottle. Brief silence. Then, an insistent celestial office bell: DING-DING-DING! Blinding light hits suddenly. GAVIN, RAYMOND, LILITH, RHONDA, and PENNY are standing there, confused. They hold strange accessories: Raymond has a steering wheel, Penny a doll, Rhonda a clothes iron).
GAVIN: (Looking at a nonexistent watch, very dignified, thinks he is at a Hotel Check-in) Excuse me, I had a reservation for seven. This is unheard of. The valet parking took my car and now I don’t know how I’m getting to the beach… Walking? On the sand? My loafers are Italian!
RAYMOND: (Clutching the steering wheel, hysterical, speaking to Penny as if arguing with a cop) I braked! I swear I braked! The light was yellow! Technically, yellow means green for people in a hurry! (Turns to Gavin) Are you the insurance adjuster?
GAVIN: (Looks at him with disgust) I have a "Fun-Pack" bundle, but the bundle is nothing but a series of problems. I swear, I wish I had "Travel-Safe." If that’s what you mean, I want my money reimbursed.
LILITH: (Touching her hair, dreamy) What a wonderful silence. No one asking me for money. No one asking for dinner. (Suddenly screams) I’M HUNGRY! (Waits for an echo. Silence). No... I’m not hungry. Ah, look, in the back, it seems there’s a VIP Buffet for transit passengers. It says: Crab Omelet... (Makes a disgusted face) Crab, how gross... And the truth is, I’m not hungry at all. How tacky, crab omelet... let your grandma taste that!
RHONDA: (Looking at the iron in her hand, anguished) Oh, I’ve lost my head, I brought my iron and I can't remember if I turned off the stove. I have to go back!
PENNY: You can’t go back anymore, stop worrying, we are all here because we are dead.
RHONDA: We are?
PENNY: (Smiling, very calm) Everyone here just died. We died in a gas explosion.
(Sepulchral silence. Everyone looks at each other. Gavin lets out a nervous laugh).
GAVIN: Me? Dead? Please, child. I have a very elegant engagement on Friday. I have to buy my VIP tuxedo... I have my level 6 tan... And I’m going to have a shrimp cocktail with lots of ketchup... Or maybe not, I might get indigestion and then I could die... (Reflects) I can’t die before Friday. I better go on an apple juice diet. Hey, child, is there a decent boutique here? For gentlemen, obviously.
RAYMOND: (Analytical, ignoring Gavin) Wouldn’t we be blown to pieces if we died in an explosion? I see everyone here quite intact. Even that gentleman who only talks about suits and cocktails...
GAVIN: Gentleman? Don't call me "Gentleman"... How dare you?
RAYMOND: I get the feeling you are one of those, right?... A bit queer.
GAVIN: Queer is your mother's fashion sense, you drooling old man!
PENNY: (Touching her jaw) My toothache is gone... but my arm hurts... Actually, I don’t know why it hurts, if I don't have it anymore...
RHONDA: (Picks up an arm lying on the floor) This must be your arm, child, look... If you want, I can help you put it back on.
PENNY: I don't think it's that simple, but thanks.
(THE HANDLER enters and stands behind the counter. He rings a bell insistently).
HANDLER: Attention! Ticket 140... 144... 145... one thousand one hundred twenty-one! Hey, pay attention because if I call your number and you aren’t here or went to the bathroom, you’re going to be left floating in the infra-limbo! Next! 146? Well, let's see, everyone come in at once!
(A loud buzzer sounds. Drastic lighting changes: from UV to intense red and back to clinical white. A deep drum sound: BOOM-BOOM-BOOM).
SCENE TWO: THE GASTRONOMIC AND ANIMAL PROCEDURE
(The characters crowd the counter. THE ARCHIVIST appears behind the counter with a high-tech Tablet).
ARCHIVIST: (Reading very pompously) Ugh, indeed, almost all of you died from gas accumulation... there was an explosion, it’s already been said. (To the crowd) Yes, yes... you are dead. So if you see nothing but dead people, don't doubt it: they are dead and you, you, and you... dead. Did you understand me?
HANDLER: (Scanning cards with a barcode reader) Attention! This is segment 41-41... kabbalistic number, ha, ha, ha... No, seriously. We are going to determine who goes up, who stays floating, and who goes to the recycling and species-change system...
RAYMOND: (Sober, resigned) Officer. I accept whatever it is. I can work as a subway conductor if you want. I’d love to travel all the time without making the slightest effort... Consider it.
GAVIN: (Steps forward, arrogant) Hey! I am Gavin of the N. I want my upgrade to the "Penthouse" assigned immediately. I have a Platinum Diamond VIP card, you know? Hurry up or I’ll speak to the manager.
HANDLER: (Looks at him with boredom) Ah, Gavin. Do you like noodles? I don’t think we’ll even turn you into a cricket. You’ll serve as soup... or pasta in this case. Do you like fettuccine?
ARCHIVIST: (Checks the tablet) It says here he signed a document preventing his organs from being donated. How ironic... he died crushed by a beam...
GAVIN: What are you talking about? Dying crushed isn’t sexy... How horrible! What do you mean?
HANDLER: Crushed, by a beam, from the gas explosion, and we are going to turn you into a noodle... You’ll like being part of it, it’s gourmet cuisine.
GAVIN: (Changing attitude, interested) Ah, that I do like. I would love a spaghetti carbonara... without parmesan... I just want pomodoro sauce and mushrooms.
HANDLER: Of course. They are waiting for you in the kitchen to give you your pomodoro. Felice estancia.
GAVIN: Grazie, grazie...
(Gavin exits very dignified through a side door. A loud sound of water hitting hot oil is heard: HISS! And a scream from Gavin: "MY HAAAIR!!". The Handler raises an eyebrow. Gavin returns immediately, a bit scorched and with his hair standing up, but feigning dignity).
GAVIN: The service is... very warm. Too much. I preferred to wait for dessert.
LILITH: (Pushing) Doctor... I mean, Handler. I’m Lilith. I processed my upgrade online. I’ve been trying to contact my agent in this lounge but I see nothing but classless people. I am in Very Special class, I get a discount for extra suffering... You don't know, but I suffered a lot. A whole lot. After the flight, I want to confirm my room with a cloud view. I don't want to remember anyone. In fact, I only remember the suffering and I don't remember the causes... But with the clouds, the suffering gets erased, right?
ARCHIVIST: (Interrupts) With the clouds, a scrupulous deletion will be performed. I assure you nothing will remain... Unless you want the Plant package... potted.
LILITH: Plant?
ARCHIVIST: Yes, in a social health clinic. Although we aren't sure if they will water you or not...
LILITH: No plants! The ones I had always dried up. Do the scrupulous deletion, but first I want to see the clouds...
HANDLER: Ma'am, for your request to take effect... you have to make us laugh? Any happy anecdote? Laughable? Comical?
LILITH: (Thinks) Once... once my mother-in-law fell down and her panties showed. They had smiley faces... and little red hearts.
(The Handler and the Archivist look at each other and let out a suppressed giggle).
HANDLER: That is funny. Put her on the waiting list: Think of a funnier joke.
RAYMOND: I know a subway joke: "Please do not commit suicide during rush hour... think of other people's time."
RHONDA: (Indignant) That is trash! I am very funny! And I want to be turned into a vine... poison ivy. I want to finish off a few wretches who made my life impossible.
ARCHIVIST: Rhonda. Accumulated hate: incalculable. Capacity to love: zero. Bile: about three liters.
HANDLER: Rhonda, dear. For you, we have the greenish reincarnation, we are going to turn you into a Cactus. Do you agree?
RHONDA: (Lowers the iron) I... don't know. I wanted to be a scorpion or a poisonous spider. I like hating, you know... My hate is an engine. Without my hate, I am empty.
HANDLER: And what about the sense of humor, nothing, right?... Because you are hateful... That is for sure... Although you said you can be funny. Or were you confused...
ARCHIVIST: Let's see, tell us a joke. Now! To clear up any doubts, I say.
RHONDA: (Nervous) Very well: Here it goes: How do you know if a vampire is playing dead?...
ARCHIVIST: How do you know?
RHONDA: Because he is cold, pale, and has no pulse.
ARCHIVIST: (Laughs exaggeratedly, with contagious laughter) Ha, ha, ha!... Very good, because he has no pulse... Ha, ha...
HANDLER: That's right... Very good, Rhonda. We are going to turn you into a playwright.
RHONDA: Into a man? No, frankly I prefer to be liver and onions.
ARCHIVIST: She’s hopeless. We’ll leave her as poison ivy... And when she dies again, we’ll turn her into a comic actress.
RHONDA: That is very good.
HANDLER: Perfect, one less. Next!
PENNY: (Sweet) I know what I want... I want to be a Labrador puppy.
ARCHIVIST: Oh, how quaint! (Throws the books/tablet) I’ve changed my mind! I want to be a dog too... A bitch!
PENNY: That comes naturally to you, of course. So? A honey-colored Labrador puppy?
ARCHIVIST: (Fed up, liberating himself) Done. Very well. (Notes frantically) A honey-colored Doberman, with extra fangs.
PENNY: But... you didn't hear me right...
ARCHIVIST: Next!
PENNY: (Despairs comically) Hey, you didn't hear me... You are mistaken.
ARCHIVIST: (Screaming) I do want to be a bitch, listen! I want to be a damn Doberman bitch! Can't you hear me?
SCENE THREE: THE APPEARANCE OF THE SURFER BOSS
(Suddenly, a vending machine opens and from inside steps THE BOSS (Julian). He wears board shorts, a rock band t-shirt, and is eating an apple. There is a light change, everything turns golden and "Surfin' USA" plays.)
BOSS: (Mouth full of chocolate) What's up, Lavin? Why all the yelling? I was playing my round of dice.
HANDLER: (Stands at attention, nervous) Mr. Director! Boss! Excuse me. It's the new batch. They are... dense. Very empowered, thinking they are know-it-alls and wanting everything they desire, just like that without effort... and they aren't even Gen Z.
RAYMOND: (Points at The Boss) Hey! You were there at the moment of the accident, when the explosion happened... Look, that makes two of us... And you are so young...
BOSS: (Smiles) Hi, Raymond. Let's say I am the Supervisor.
RHONDA: You, Supervisor? With that surfer look?
BOSS: I love the waves. Plus, I always survive, ha, ha. God knows why... or maybe I know.
PENNY: Hey, Supervisor, don't you think God plays dice with human destinies?
BOSS: (Sits on the edge of the counter, very close) Ah, Penny. That is the million-dollar question. You guys take life too seriously. Life is recess. A playground. And above all, it is very brief. You spent your time fighting over who had the best toy or who you could make miserable. And suddenly it was all over... plop! And well, now it's your turn to become a snail, a tree, a noodle, a cat, or a snake...
RAYMOND: Becoming spaghetti is too much, don't you think?
BOSS: Some people ask for it... (Looks at Gavin, who adjusts his scorched hair).
RAYMOND: Listen, I always behaved well, and you don't even pay attention to me... I was always responsible, I educated entire generations, I corrected exams, I paid taxes... And what would it cost you to make me a Metro conductor?
BOSS: Raymond, Raymond... you need to see the world, literally. When was the last time you looked at a cloud and saw the shape of a rabbit without thinking it was going to rain? We are going to make you a Seagull. What do you think? It's a very nice life.
RAYMOND: (Confused) Flying isn't bad, but... don't you think that might be too much freedom? In the Metro everything is programmed, and we only go from one place to another...
BOSS: Exactly, Raymond. Your life will now be a wonderful metaphor for freedom, without fear... I'm sure you'll like it.
SCENE FOUR: THE ABSURD TRUTH MACHINE
BOSS: We are going to do something different today. Lavin, Galvin, put away the books. We are going to play "The Naked and Ridiculous Truth."
ARCHIVIST: But Sir, the protocol...
BOSS: To hell with the protocol! (Covers his mouth feigning surprise) Oops, pardon the expression, my competition gets offended. Let's see, everyone gets one chance. You have to tell me the most ridiculous moment of your life. If you laugh at yourselves, you cross the door to the Great Cosmic Party. If you start crying or complaining... you reincarnate as worker ants.
ALL: Ants?!
BOSS: Yes, and they work 20 hours a day. So, get laughing. You first, Gavin the Magnificent.
GAVIN: (Sweats) Ridiculous? I have never been ridiculous. I am a man of the world. Sexy... Brutally attractive.
LILITH: Tell them about when your toupee fell in the pool!
GAVIN: It was a removable hair implant! Very expensive!
BOSS: Hahaha! That counts! Toupee in the water! How did you feel?
GAVIN: (Ashamed, but starting to see the humor) Well... it looked like a drowned rat floating in the chlorine. And I tried to fish it out with my foot, but I slipped and fell on top of the mayor's wife.
(Everyone laughs, even Raymond).
GAVIN: (Smiles) Yes... it was... quite stupid. I looked pathetic.
BOSS: (Claps) Welcome to humility, Gavin! Approved! Next. Rhonda.
RHONDA: (Timid) I... I once put laxative in my mother-in-law's coffee.
ALL: Ohhh!
RHONDA: But I grabbed the wrong cup. And I drank it.
ARCHIVIST: (Laughing) And what happened?
RHONDA: I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of my own wedding. At the moment of "I do," I said "I go!" and ran out with the white dress... which didn't end up so white.
(General laughter. Rhonda laughs out loud, releasing tension).
RHONDA: Oh God! How embarrassing! But it's good that I don't have an intestine anymore.
BOSS: Now you've liberated and purged yourself. Approved! Raymond, the uptight one... your turn. Relax for one day of your life, haha, or your non-life.
RAYMOND: I don't have anecdotes like that. I am serious.
PENNY: Raymond... do you remember when you wore different colored shoes?
RAYMOND: That was a lighting error!
BOSS: Come on, Raymond. Let go of control. The steering wheel is useless here.
RAYMOND: (Sighs) Fine. Once... I was teaching a class about Henry VIII and his wives... You know he ordered them killed... And I said, very solemn in front of the whole school: "And then the King's erections..." And some students corrected me... "Professor, you meant executions"... And I, angry at the interruption, shouted louder: "Silence! I said the King's ERECTIONS...!"
(Silence for a second. Then an explosion of laughter. Raymond doubles over laughing).
RAYMOND: (Covers his face, laughing) Erections! The kids didn't stop laughing all semester. They called me "The King's Boner."
BOSS: That's it! Life can be funny, even with a word that sounds wrong, Raymond! Approved!
SCENE FIVE: LILITH'S REVELATION AND THE PARTY
BOSS: You're left, Lilith. The drama queen.
LILITH: (Smiles, calm) I don't do drama anymore, Young Boss... I don't remember anything... I remember I suffered, but it was like carrying a glass of water all the time... and it made no sense to carry that glass... it wasn't a heavy glass, but it was on my arm all the time, tense... I simply dropped it and that's it. Now I am calm.
HANDLER: And the ridiculous part?
LILITH: The ridiculous part is that... I lost my memories. I was busy crying. But you know... my makeup would run and I looked like a specter with mascara all over my face... a black mess... (Laughs) Ha, ha, ha... I looked like a depressed raccoon. Once I decided to leave the suffering in peace, they gave me a facial treatment and now I go around without makeup, with my natural face... and relaxed like this, I look very good... Do you agree?
BOSS: The image of the runny mascara is funny... I like it. Acceptable. (To Penny) And you, little one?
PENNY: I don't have jokes. But I like seeing them laugh. Before it was only demands and screaming. Even I screamed. Can I become a Labrador dog... And while we wait for reincarnation... Can we listen to some music? And if we want, can we dance? And can you put my little arm back on? Please...
BOSS: (Jumps up) Granted, everything you asked for! Music, Mr. Archivist!
ARCHIVIST: (Pulls a record player out of nowhere) How about Mozart's Requiem, Boss?
BOSS: No! For the love of life! Hahaha, it's a habit I can't leave behind, sorry. Play cumbia! Or better... Surf music! Let's think we are at the beach, let's enjoy the waves.
(Very cheerful Beach Boys-type surf music or a frenetic instrumental version starts playing).
HANDLER: Now let's shake those skeletons, ha, ha, ha... watch out for your clavicles!
LILITH: Don't be rude, we aren't decomposing yet.
HANDLER: That's what you think because you don't have a sense of smell anymore, hahaha.
LILITH: (Flirtatious) You are awful, what bad manners... Shall we dance?
(Everyone starts to dance. But it is not a normal dance. They dance doing absurd steps, jumping, freeing themselves from their "characters." Gavin messes up his hair on purpose. Raymond uses the steering wheel as a tambourine. The Boss reattaches Penny's arm. Rhonda hugs and spins on her axis).
BOSS: (To the audience/imaginary camera) Look at them. It took them a whole lifetime and an explosive death to understand it. The secret wasn't "getting ahead" or "having success." The secret was simply... getting out to dance.
(The Boss snaps his fingers. The back door opens and colored light comes out, like a disco, and lots of smoke).
BOSS: Come to the party! Today is open bar on Happiness! And no hangovers!
GAVIN: (Going towards the door doing the twist) Me first! Make way for the life of the party!
RAYMOND: (Pushes him playfully) Shut up, show-off! I'm flying!
RHONDA: Wait for me! I don't know what happened to my hate! Ah, who cares! I don't miss it, how wonderful!
(They all exit in a conga line towards the light, laughing).
HANDLER: (Remains at the end with the Archivist) Hey, Galvin.
ARCHIVIST: Yes, Lavin?
HANDLER: I think this group wasn't so bad.
ARCHIVIST: No. It almost made me want to be alive again.
HANDLER: Don't exaggerate. Let's go, the clouds are getting cold. And you wanted to be a bitch, right? Look, you already were one, ha, ha, ha!
(They exit dancing clumsily. The stage remains empty, only with the vending machine).
(The vending machine makes a mechanical noise and spits out a can that rolls to the center of the stage. The can reads in bright letters: DEATH ON CLOUD ELEVEN).
FAST AND CHEERFUL BLACKOUT
