© 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
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