VITAL SIGNS
ANOMALY IN CUBICLE THREE
(A One-Act Dream Farce)
By Benjamin
Gavarre
benjamingavarre@filos.unam.mx
CHARACTERS
- BEN: An on-call doctor newly promoted to
attending. His lab coat is wrinkly, his stethoscope is tangled like old
wired headphones, and his pockets are bursting with pastry crumbs.
- NOAH: His identical twin brother. He wears a lab
coat so heavily starched it looks like bulletproof cardboard. His hair is
parted with geometric precision, and he wears a stopwatch around his neck.
- THE FIREFIGHTER (THE INFILTRATOR): A towering, sculpted Black man with a
magnetic gaze. He never walks; he seems to glide on invisible roller
skates.
- THE HIPPIE ANESTHESIOLOGIST: Ben’s ultimate ally. She wears tie-dye
scrubs, quartz crystal necklaces, and uses a burning incense stick instead
of a thermometer.
- THE MOM (VOICE OVER INTERCOM): Chief of Medicine and Head of Nursing.
Seventy-five years old. The ultimate, omnipresent authority booming from
the ceiling speakers.
SCENE 1: THE ON-CALL ROOM
The wall clock reads 9:59 AM, even though its face
features thirteen numbers and its hands are two snakes twisted around a staff,
mimicking the medical symbol. On the right, NOAH stands stock-still, like a
storefront mannequin, ironing the sleeve of his own lab coat—while wearing
it—with a disconnected travel iron. On the left, in a bunk bed, BEN is fast
asleep, tightly strapped in with an airplane seatbelt. A glowing neon sign
shines above his forehead, reading: AIRPLANE MODE.
A heavenly chime rings from Noah’s side.
NOAH
(In a smug, military cadence)
Ten zero-zero. One hundred percent efficiency. My coat is entirely
wrinkle-free, and my work ethic shines brighter than a brand-new OR. Our
seventy-five-year-old mother will be proud... unlike that distant relative of
ours who probably keeps rescuing stray dogs without disinfecting them first.
Suddenly, from Ben’s side, the sound of a cargo
ship horn blasts, mixed with a blender and a helicopter hovering over the
hospital. The ceiling lights flash red.
THE MOM (VOICE OVER INTERCOM)
Protocol change! The ten AM medical mission is now assigned to Doctor
Ben-Ben-Ben! I repeat: Doctor Ben-Ben-Ben is required in Trauma Bay One as of
yesterday... Chop-chop!
BEN
(Wakes up with a start, wrestling with the airplane belt and the sheets)
What?! Already?! Chop-chop?! Is it ten?! Come on, they were supposed to send me
a pre-pre-alert at nine-forty... and nine-forty-five! I was in Airplane Mode!
NOAH
(Crossing his arms in outrage)
And they gave my star shift to you? To you?! You’re never
entrusted with anything important. Last month you weren’t even an attending,
you were a half-time honorary gardener! You tended to daisies!
BEN
Oh, shut up, you hater, and help me teleport to the ER! (He runs to a wall
panel covered in giant buttons labeled "CAFETERIA,"
"X-RAY," and "ON-CALL TELEPORTATION." He tries to press
one, but it screeches and jams) Dammit, it’s stuck! (He bangs on the
dashboard three times; a thick cloud of white powder and crumbs erupts)
Right, I ate powdered donuts and Pop-Tarts over the console last night, and the
sugar got into the controls. (He blows hard into the panel like an old video
game cartridge, covering Noah’s face in white powder).
NOAH
(Coughing and brushing himself off in horror)
Gross! You have organic residue in the central mainframe! When I was a
resident, I never allowed a single speck of dust in my jurisdiction...
BEN
(Scraping the button slots with a key)
I swear you seem older than your mommy, Noah. I mean, older than my
mommy too, haha. You’re so old-fashioned. All starch and stopwatches, but you
have the soul of a bitter old rat! Just mash all the buttons already or we’ll
be late!
Noah sighs, presses a single button on his own
wrist, looking down on his brother. A deep, booming cinematic sound effect
plays. The two brothers run in slow motion without moving from the spot, while
THE HIPPIE ANESTHESIOLOGIST crosses the stage pushing a gurney covered in a
white sheet. As the gurney stops center stage, the lights shift: they are now
in the ER.
SCENE 2: THE TRAUMA BAY
10:03 AM. THE FIREFIGHTER lies unconscious on the
gurney, covered from head to toe by the surgical sheet. The Hippie
Anesthesiologist waves a smoking incense burner over him, then holds a giant
syringe filled with glowing neon-green fluid.
THE HIPPIE ANESTHESIOLOGIST
Glad you guys teleported in. They just brought this firefighter, but I feel
he’s not from this astral plane. His chakras are completely misaligned. Could
he be an alien? We need to ground his energy before he MANIFESTS...
Suddenly, a tribal drum beats. The Firefighter
wakes up and sits up, facing away from the audience, letting the top half of
the sheet fall. Simultaneously, in the middle of the gurney, the sheet covering
his waist rises sharply toward the ceiling with the sound of a circus tent pole
deploying, forming a monumental, pointed tent that casts a colossal shadow on
the back wall. As the Firefighter shifts his hips slightly, this structure
beneath the fabric knocks over a tray of scalpels and an IV pole with a loud
metallic crash.
BEN
(Leaping backward, tongue-tied with panic)
HOSPITAL SIGNS!! RED ALERT, HE HAS HOSPITAL SIGNS!!
NOAH
(Looking at Ben bewildered)
What on earth are hospital signs?! You mean vital signs, you idiot!
BEN
YES, VITAL SIGNS!! (Pointing a trembling finger at the gigantic tent of
fabric, which seems to have a life of its own) BUT LOOK AT THAT VITAL SIGN,
NOAH, IT HAS ITS OWN ECOSYSTEM!!
NOAH
(Adjusting his glasses, taking a step back)
By holy Hippocrates! What is that topographical anomaly?! Is it a hernia?! Is
it a grade-eighteen strangulated inguinal hernia?!
BEN
(Hiding behind an aluminum tray)
It’s not a hernia, it’s moving!! It’s a bobblehead Alien! It’s a tumor!! It’s a
mutant tumor pointing right at our faces!! No way!
THE HIPPIE ANESTHESIOLOGIST
(Awestruck, pressing her hands together in reverence)
It’s not a tumor, brothers, it’s an intergalactic visitor! It’s an ancestral
monolith! It’s an Egyptian obelisk of pure vital energy!
BEN
It’s... it’s... a...! I don’t know what it is, but it’s alive! Impressive! We
need to cover it! (He throws a towel over it, but the towel bounces off and
hits the floor) Security!! Call security, there’s an alien infiltrator in
the hospital and he’s carrying non-regulation... celestial... weaponry!!
The Firefighter stands up, his back still to the
audience. His silhouette beneath the hospital gown is so imposing it defies
structural engineering laws. NOAH steps forward to enforce order, but seeing
the magnitude of the phenomenon up close, his metal clipboard slips from his
hands and clatters to the floor.
For an oniric moment, the music shifts to a
romantic 1980s movie saxophone. Noah slowly takes off his glasses; his knees
tremble, his military posture melts like butter, and he covers his mouth with a
handkerchief.
NOAH
(Completely hypnotized, spellbound)
Mother of mercy... look at that architecture... (He lets out a goofy laugh,
breaking character for the first time) Haha... ha... It’s like the
Lighthouse of Alexandria... Ben, please tell me I’m hallucinating... this
wasn’t in my anatomy textbooks... such power, such rigidity... such volume...
what audacity, what utter disrespect for gravity...
BEN
(Shaking him by the shoulders)
Noah, you are my rock, my fortress! You’re drooling, brother!! Pull it
together, remember you’re the one in charge, the coherent one, the frigid—I
mean, the cold and calculating one... Do something, dammit!
NOAH
(Slaps himself across the face, jerks his lab coat straight, and recovers
his stone face)
You’re right! I am a professional! Noah, Noah, snap out of it, you saw nothing,
nothing of interest to you, nothing… The Institution comes first! Ethical,
solid clinical practice comes first! I saw nothing and I felt nothing! I feel
nothing, I am an oak, I am made of wood, I am solid and I am your bastion, your
rock, your guide… Move aside, you useless slacker!
Noah snatches a giant, colorful syringe from the
Hippie, does a completely unnecessary barrel roll across the floor, dodging the
Firefighter’s shadow as if it were a laser beam, and stabs the needle into his
shoulder. The sound of a loud factory or coal mine whistle blows, marking the
end of a shift. The Firefighter goes stiff as a marble statue. Noah hoists him
over his shoulder like a storefront mannequin and marches out, while Ben pulls
a bag of Doritos from his sleeve and eats compulsively as the Hippie scatters
flower petals.
SCENE 3: THE WAITING ROOM
10:45 AM. The lighting changes. A long plastic
bench in the waiting room next to a fake plastic palm tree that seems to lean
in to overhear the gossip. THE FIREFIGHTER is sitting on the far left. By the
grace of dream-logic, he is now impeccably dressed from head to toe in a
tailored dress uniform, tie, polished boots, and shows no trace of having just
been on a gurney. He is "neutralized," but he crosses his legs
elegantly and darts his eyes from left to right with a mischievous, highly
suspicious smirk.
NOAH and BEN enter. Noah holds his medical chart
right in front of his own face to block eye contact.
NOAH
(Reading at a million miles an hour in a robotic voice)
Right, sir. We are here to inform you about your... sudden volumetric anomaly
back in the trauma bay. Analysis indicates a spontaneous inflammation of your
anatomy, so vast and undoubtedly colossal, never before seen, nor
anticipated...
THE MOM (VOICE OVER INTERCOM)
Doctor Noah! Report to the executive office this instant! A biological hazard
is underway, I repeat, a hospital emergency... things have completely gotten
out of hand... Well, it’s not that bad... one of my rescue dogs chased a rat...
a big, fat rat, a giant rat, but he caught it in his beautiful stray-dog
jaws... and he’s bringing it to me like a trophy. That’s how those dogs are,
they’re beautiful, unlike others, unlike my sons who are completely
good-for-nothing. I need you here, you’re the cleaning expert, bring gloves, a
vaccine for the dog, and another one for me, hurry! And don’t be offended by
what I said, I’m just building your self-esteem... You’re much better than a
rat, you know... Get up here, now!
NOAH
(Squaring his shoulders toward the ceiling)
On my way, Mother! I mean, Doctor, Boss, Chief! (He shoves the chart into
Ben’s chest, avoiding any glance at the Firefighter) Finish discharging
him. Don’t ask what planet he’s from, don’t make eye contact, and for the love
of God, stop eating Doritos.
Noah marches out, almost running. Ben is left
alone. He looks at the Firefighter, gulps, and sits on the opposite end of the
bench, leaving three empty seats between them.
BEN
(Opening the chart with trembling hands)
Okay... so... like my brother said, you just need to sign down here, stating
that the... infiltrator, alien, heavyweight, Superman, super-patient... I mean,
that your vital signs have been neutralized according to protocol...
The Firefighter doesn’t even look at the pen.
Without breaking eye contact, he slides across the plastic bench, producing an
endless, loud squeaking sound until his thigh is pressed right against Ben's.
THE FIREFIGHTER
(In a deep, velvety voice, two inches from Ben's ear)
Forget the paperwork, doc. Tell me about yourself instead. What exactly do you
do when you go into "Airplane Mode"? Do you shut down your engines,
disconnect from the control tower, or do you just hide under the covers so the
world won’t ask you to work at ten in the morning?
BEN
(Leaning back until he's bent over the armrest)
Excuse me? I’m just the on-call doctor, sir, I’m not here to... chat... You
want to chat... I’m very good at chatting... I’m a great listener, actually...
Not like my brother... he’s very uptight... You know...
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Picking a Dorito crumb off Ben's lapel with extreme slowness)
You have Dorito dust on your coat, Ben. And powdered sugar crumbs everywhere.
Do you eat pastries in secret in the middle of the night? Or do you let the
controls get clogged with crumbs on purpose, just to have an excuse every time
the alarm goes off?
BEN
(Using the chart as a shield between their faces)
Hey, that is professional confidentiality between me and my donuts!
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Lowers Ben's chart with a single finger, unblinking)
And who really is this Noah guy? Explain that mystery to me. If you’re
identical twins, why does he walk like he has an open umbrella shoved up his
spine, while you look like you showed up late to your own birth? But did you
see how he looked at me on the gurney before he injected me? The boy went weak
in the knees... Does he always get that nervous around large-scale emergencies?
BEN
(Sweating cold)
Noah is the pride of this hospital! Nothing went weak, it was a tactical spasm!
I barely made attending last month... I used to take care of plants... I was a
gardener... I like plants and rescue dogs... My mom always ends up giving me
the dogs she doesn’t want to care for anymore... and... wait a second! Why am I
explaining myself to a patient?!
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Leaning in closer, trapping him against the backrest, hypnotizing him)
Because deep down, you really like me. You really... really like me. You were
waiting for me, and now... I’m here, close to you... very close...
BEN
(Hypnotized)
Very close, very, very close...
THE FIREFIGHTER
Now tell me something else that fascinates me... Why is your mom the Chief of
Medicine, seventy-five years old, and yells at you through the intercom like
some Big Brother entity? Did she sing you lullabies through a megaphone when
you were kids, or did she invoice you for diaper changes?
BEN
(Snapping out of the hypnosis, offended... trying to slip under the
Firefighter's arm, unsuccessfully)
My mother is an institution of modern medicine, you giant stranger! She is
strict but fair!
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Plants a massive hand on the wall behind Ben, blocking his escape, and
sniffs the air)
Strict but fair... right. And what is a hippie doing working as an
anesthesiologist in this hospital? Explain that one to me. While you two were
screaming that I had a tumor or an alien under the sheet, she winked at me,
told me my root chakra had Mercury in retrograde, and injected me with a
sedative that smelled like incense. Why hasn’t your mom fired her? Is she your
underground ally?
BEN
(In a choked voice, squished against the plastic bench)
She administers alternative medicine approved by the union of my dreams! And
you shouldn’t be asking so many invasive questions! You’re not HR... Are you?
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Smiles with a delightful calmness, looking him up and down)
Maybe I am, maybe I’m not... It’s just that the injection didn’t make me
sleepy, doc... it made me curious. Tell me the truth, Ben... back there, when
the sheet went up... did you yell "hospital signs" because you were
scared... or because you were jealous it wasn’t you on that gurney?
BEN
(Blushing bright red, fanning himself desperately with the pages of the
chart)
Hey! I don’t like your line of questioning! You need to moderate yourself
immediately, sir! You’re dressed and discharged, so please stop looking at me
like that, I feel like you’re unbuttoning my coat with your eyelashes!
THE FIREFIGHTER
(Bringing his face a millimeter closer, in a conspiratorial whisper)
Relax, Ben... I’m just making sure you don’t get crumbs in the controls.
The Firefighter gently takes the pages from Ben's
hands, lets them drop to the floor in slow motion, and leans over him at an
absurdly, scandalously compromising angle, leaving them almost nose-to-nose.
At that exact second, the door flies open and NOAH
bursts in holding a paperclip in a pair of surgical clamps.
NOAH
(Freezes on the spot, drops the clamps which hit the floor with a metallic
ring, and slaps his hands over his face)
What is the meaning of this?!
BEN
(Without moving a single muscle under the Firefighter’s towering shadow,
slowly turns his head toward his brother with absolute peace)
Oh, chill out, Noah... you’re dreaming.
NOAH
(Blinks three times, looks at the Firefighter, looks at Ben, then takes a
step forward, staring directly at the audience with existential dread)
Dreaming?... This is a dream?!
The plastic palm tree moves on its own and waves
cheerfully at the audience with one of its leaves. A sharp, dry
"BEEP!" from a microwave timer rings out.
THE MOM (VOICE OVER INTERCOM)
Benjamin! Your dogs pooped in the living room again!
THE HIPPIE ANESTHESIOLOGIST
(Appears out of nowhere, joining her hands in a lotus position and aligning
her chakras)
This is not the end, the end is never the end… it could be the beginning of
something… I shouldn’t even be here, I am part of the light and the light is
colorful. Namaste.
!!SHARP
BLACKOUT AND CUE CUT!!
