Holy Cosmic Entanglements, Robot. By Gavarre Benjamin

 

 

 

 

Holy Cosmic Entanglements, Robot.

By Gavarre Benjamin

 

This work has been published for free and open dissemination, although all intellectual property rights are reserved. Public use of this work requires permission from the author and for permission contact bengavarre@gmail.com or gavarreunam@gmail.com (Reg. Prop. Int. Expte. Inbox)

 

 

Intergalactic Voice:

The planet Beta Cheta, where the walls are made of iridescent cement and the atmosphere smells like wet cotton. The horizon, instead of the sea, is a cosmic landfill of space junk:

Life is a cosmic comedy of errors!

 

A far-flung intergalactic landscape of purple rocks and craters that exhale a vapor smelling of used socks. In the background, the battered remains of the ship "Saturno-0003", smoking comically. The vegetation is alien, with curly stems that look like mustaches.

 

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 Cast of Characters: Cosmic Misfits

• DR. CATET: The Vain Coward. Overly dramatic, obsessed with his appearance and status; the inevitable, yet hilariously ineffective, traitor.
• DOÑA MAMALÚ: The Domestic Matriarch. Practical, exasperated, and reduces cosmic crises to matters of kitchen and nutrition.
• DON ROBINAL PATINSON: The Enthusiastic Pseudoscientist. The eccentric patriarch whose bizarre geological theories drive the action.
• OLÍN PATINSON: The Practical Observer. The young boy, capable of fixing things (with a spoon) and understanding alien languages.
• PENNYLANE PATINSON: The Melodramatic Documentarian. The teen who records every event, exaggerating the horror for her diary.
• NANCY SINIESTRA: The woman with Boots for Walking. Sexy, pragmatic, and believes style and dancing are superior to any survival strategy.
• MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: The Frightened Hero. A military man whose courage quickly fails, relying on bubbles and fertilizer squirts for defense.
• EL ROTOB: The Crybaby  Robot. The harbinger of doom, prone to logical failures, and the constant victim of the crew's absurd chaos.

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SCENE I: The Crash Landing and the Robotized Lament

(The curtain opens. The ship "Saturno-0003" is still emitting green smoke. Olin Patinson tries to "fix" the ship with his selenium spoon. Dr. Catet looks at himself in a hand mirror. Don Robinal Patinson examines a rock. Doña Mamalú organizes luggage.)

DR. CATET: (In a dramatic voice. He feels an itch on his cheek and looks with horror.) Oh, cruel fate that throws me onto these unknown rocks! My face, besieged by Betasigmic germs, my lush complexion ruined by space mud! My prestige, shattered! I won't be able to appear on Intestelar in its delayed broadcasts! I would rather have been devoured by an "Octopus Longarm" than by these mosquitoes or fleas or nits or mites or whatever Venusian bugs they are!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: (In an "exhausted mother" voice) Dr. Catet, please! You know very well they are mosquitoes because you brought them from Earth, and they reproduced here.

DR. CATET: My fault, oh, mother dear, all me... Next, they'll be saying I'm the one to blame for losing the course of our intergalactic journey. When clearly it was Don Robinal for his obsession with turning off the GPS to "find stellar shortcuts"!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: Doctor! Stop complaining and help find the "Quantum Molecule Generator" that Don Robinal says is either here or not here, which might help us, but also might not... We should have brought a quantum Schrödinger's cat; at least you'd know if that helps... Dr. Catet, stop looking at your big face and help!

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: (Without looking up from the rock) Silence, Mamalú! This rock that looks like gelatin and granite possesses a bio-stellar rarity that could be the key to interdimensional teletransportation! Look, look how the reflections of the sunlight appear and disappear...

DOÑA MAMALÚ: That's because you point your flashlight and then stop pointing... Give me some of that gelatin with granules, let's see if I can make a nutritious soup.

DR. CATET: (In a dramatic voice) Granules, oh, no, the horror, I don't want to hear about granules anymore...! My mother, my holy mother, I don't want soup; I just want to end these wicked mosquitoes once and for all... I never, never invited a mosquito aboard!

NANCY SINIESTRA: (Looking at her reflection in a broken ship window) I'm going to put on my sexiest boots and conquer Major Pheromone Squirt... with my charms and a good escape plan.

PENNYLANE PATINSON: (Writing feverishly) Silence, Nancy! I'm documenting the "Talking Rock Monster" that's stalking us! It surely has five eyes and speaks in the language of the ódogo éguede ágadas ígodos úgudos!

OLÍN PATINSON (in ógodo language): Cottonógodo is stuckógodo in the carburetorógodo! I think it's a wickedógodo mosquitoógodo.

(The Rotob appears, walking awkwardly.)

EL ROTOB: Alert! Alert! Danger, Child Olin Patinson! My vibrating antennae have detected... the presence of a... "Furry-Legged Being with Bad Intentions"!

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: (Drawing a laser pistol that shoots soap bubbles) Holy furry beings with eight legs and something dangling...! Unbreakable courage! (Tripping on a rock, he falls flat on his face.) Oh, my knees! Oh... It's going to cover me with its legs... there are more than eight, and no, it's not just one furry scrotum, it's two, it's three furry scrotums! Help!

(Everyone ignores him, except Nancy, who steps on one of the creature's legs.)

NANCY SINIESTRA: Fear not, Major Pheromone Squirt, for Nancy Siniestra never feared. Give it a squirt full of your pheromones, and you'll see it will want to give you kisses.

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: No, no, not kisses... I want it off me...

NANCY SINIESTRA: Very well, my Major... I'm going to kick it with my boots, because you should know, Major, that these boots were made for walking... and for kicking cosmic creatures.

(Music: Brief choreography by Nancy Siniestra. The monster and the Major join in.)

EL ROTOB: Danger, danger... A terrible and fierce alien is coming... it's going to kill us...! We must sing before we die...! These boots are made for walking, for walking...!

NANCY SINIESTRA: Shut up, Rotob, you don't have boots... And stop singing off-key!

OLÍN: The Rotob is right: Something moved behind those Rocks.

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: We must be prepared.

DR. CATET: Good Heavens! Good Heavens! Please, mother of my life, get me out of here!

(The Furry-Legged Monster and The Rotob exchange incomprehensible dialogues. Confusion, lights. Suddenly, from behind a rock appears a small, pink and purple, furry creature with bulging eyes: the Intergalactic Chick.)

OLÍN: Back, wicked chicken!

NANCY SINIESTRA: Back, wickedógodo chickenógodo!

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: Eureka! It's a new species of "Intergalactic Chick"! We could study it, or better yet, we'll have roast chicken!

DR. CATET: (Hiding behind the Rotob) Oh, Heavens, Heavens, I'm so scared... and I want to go home to my mom for triple-scoop ice cream!

EL ROTOB: Warning, Dr. Catet! My sensors indicate that pathetic crying irritates it greatly! Oh... it launched an ultravoltaic ray at me and finished my operating system...

(The Intergalactic Chick pecks at Rotob's foot. The Rotob recovers with a high-pitched voice.)

EL ROTOB: Oh, my titanium foot! Help, Olin Patinson! This wicked Chick pecked my legs, and now I'm terribly itchy and can't scratch!

OLÍN PATINSON: (With his spoon, tries to hit it) Leave my robot friend alone, "Denatured Chicken"! Or you will suffer the wrath of Olin the Loner!

NANCY SINIESTRA: Oh, be quiet, I'm going to step on you with my boots that are made for walking and also work for scratching the itch. Take that, take that, you idiot Rotob!

(The Chick leaves. Don Robinal sighs.)

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: What a shame! My dinner escaped... or my great discovery! And with it, the patent for the "Stellar Roast Chicken"!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: (Exasperated) For the love of the stars, Don Patinson! We can eat boiled potatoes, remember we grow potatoes, lots of potatoes, thanks to my universal organic fertilizer!

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: (Standing up) And I was responsible for them growing so fast because I fertilized them with my special squirt. (He comically falls unconscious.)

DR. CATET: (Maliciously) Mmmh how tasty... the bad thing is that those potatoes without ketchup or hot sauce taste worse than selenium chloride. And well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for my "VIP Survival Kit" (Aside) Which still has some emergency salmon cans.

(Dr. Catet leaves. The Rotob looks at Olin Patinson.)

EL ROTOB: Danger, Olin Patinson! My sensors detect a high level of... of... "Unleashed Cosmic Madness"!

OLÍN PATINSON: (Sighs, uses his spoon to scratch a piece of the ship.) I know, robot friend, I know! But at least we have JOY, Hope, good humor... And who am I kidding! We are lost in Space!

EL ROTOB: Ha, ha, ha... that's a good one...

 

SCENE II: The Mineral Misunderstanding and the Eruptive Drama

(Ten minutes later. Don Robinal Patinson is rubbing the "Granite-Gelatin" rock against the fuselage. Dr. Catet returns, looking more horrified.)

DR. CATET: (Advancing dramatically) The horror! The HORROR! My "VIP Survival Kit" was empty! There was only a note: "The salmon expired. Eat potatoes. Regards, Mamalú"!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: (Without looking) I told you to eat the salmon two days ago, Doctor! And potatoes are rich in starch!

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: (Excited) I've confirmed my theory! This rock has inverse magnetic properties! (The rock sticks to the armor of the Rotob, who walks by.)

EL ROTOB: Alert! Solid-viscous object adhered to my titanium limb! Geological contamination!

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: Eureka! Now the Rotob is a "Patinsonius-Rotob Molecule Generator"! Keep rubbing, my son, Olin!

OLÍN PATINSON: (Rubbing the rock with the spoon) Rubbógodo, rubbógodo!

EL ROTOB: Pain! My operating system registers an irritating tickle level 7!

DR. CATET: (Horrified) That's the key! That rock is what has been causing all my spots! Rotob, you are a focal point of cosmic infection!

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: Back, blob of sebum and gelatin! (Shoots bubbles at the Rotob.)

(The Rotob shakes violently. The rock flies out and hits a nearby crater, causing a comical eruption of lime-green vapor.)

DR. CATET: (Terrified) Good Heavens! The vapor smells like rotten cucumber! It's the gas that ruins my interplanetary Botox!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: (Sniffing) Mmm, no! It smells like concentrated chicken broth! How nutritious! I'm going to try to capture it in a thermos!

(Doña Mamalú runs to the crater with a pot. Don Robinal chases her. Nancy and the Major leave.)

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: Towards the space junk, Nancy! They say they sell the best sunglasses there for an escape with style!

DR. CATET: (To the audience, dramatically) And so, my dear friends, that is how Science and Cooking conspire against Beauty in the far reaches of the universe!

 

SCENE III: The Gelatinous Climax and the Traitor Amongst Us

(It is night. The crew, minus Dr. Catet, is gathered around a huge pile of Granite-Gelatin.)

DOÑA MAMALÚ: Try my Patinsonius Granite-Gelatin! With a touch of crater vapor for broth flavor!

OLÍN PATINSON: (Eating) It's delicious, Mamalú! It tastes like cosmic pineapple and pure science!

(A loud sucking noise is heard. The gelatin pile begins to shrink. The head of a Giant, Slimey Worm emerges.)

EL ROTOB: Alert! Alert! Presence of a "Gelatin-Devouring Polymer Worm"!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: Vile monster! Leave my family recipe alone!

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: It's time for the fertilized counterattack! Don Robinal, reload!

(The Major fires his "special squirt," and Don Robinal throws chunks of the Gelatin. The gelatin regenerates inside the worm, inflating it.)

EL ROTOB: The worm is now a gelatin balloon! I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress from Giant Chicken and sticky jelly!

NANCY SINIESTRA: (Tries to step on it) It's like trying to step on a cloud of snot!

EL ROTOB: Rotob's "Lightning and Thunder Ray Launcher" Mode! (It launches sparks.)

DOÑA MAMALÚ: The potatoes! Throw the boiled potatoes at it!

(Everyone throws piles of potatoes at the Worm.)

THE WORM: (Stops eating gelatin, sniffs a potato, makes a face.) Oh-godo... Bl-and Po-ta-toes! (It eats a potato, turns green.) No ketchup! It's the most tasteless thing in the known universe! (The Worm, with a dramatic look of disgust, runs away at full speed.)

DON ROBINAL PATINSON: The blandness of boiled potatoes has saved the universe!

(They see Dr. Catet devouring potatoes with ketchup.)

DR. CATET: (Laughing maniacally) Mmmh! What delicious potatoes with ketchup! You can eat your Granite-Gelatin, I'll keep my treasure!

DOÑA MAMALÚ: Dr. Catet! Come here and share the ketchup.

DR. CATET: Fools! While you were playing, I repaired the escape module! The expired salmon and the ketchup were a distraction! It was always my plan!

(Dr. Catet runs to the ship, enters, and slams the hatch shut. The engine makes a "clack-clack-POOOF" noise.)

DR. CATET (Voice-over): Farewell, simpletons! I'm going to find a planet with hot sauce! HA HA HA!

(The ship lifts two meters and crashes down. The ketchup bottle rolls out.)

EL ROTOB: Warning! The engine has failed again! Dr. Catet only flew two meters! And the ketchup fell out of his pocket!

NANCY SINIESTRA: (Retrieving the bottle) The Gelatinous worm is not sexy! Major, you know what's sexy? Dancing!

MAJOR PHEROMONE SQUIRT: It's true, Nancy! Dancing!

EL ROTOB: My logic sensors are at 0%! Only rhythm remains!

NANCY SINIESTRA: These boots!

ALL: These boots!

NANCY SINIESTRA: Were made for walking.

ALL: Were made for walking.

(The entire company performs a final choreography while sharing the ketchup. Dr. Catet cries miserably inside the ship.)

(Fast Curtain. End of the Cosmic Farce.)