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I don’t know where the time is going. I’m reading plays for a few contests and trying to keep up with people Zoom socially, and I did have a project with Women’s Theatre Festival, but the days just seem to fly by. I hope you’re all continuing to be safe and well, wherever you are, and thank you for spending a few minutes here.

 

There’s not much to discuss in the way of process this week, because it’s all about getting in the house and getting those ashes! I do have to note that in this time, it’s hard not to let bits of the mindset seep into whatever it is we’re working on, and so it is that Tina is a germophobe who doesn’t leave the house. Adjacent to our current situation; it’s inevitable.

 

And so… it’s time to join FINDING NEIL PATRICK HARRIS, already in progress:

 

 

TINA: Are you any good?

 

CHA-CHA: At murder?

 

TINA: At pedicures.

 

CHA-CHA: Please. The fucking best.

 

TINA: I’m a bit of a hermit.

 

KATIE: Like a germaphobe? Afraid of dirty things?

 

CHA-CHA: Like ashes…

 

KATIE and CHA-CHA try looking beyond Tina into the house.

 

KATIE: Because we…

 

CHA-CHA: Clean houses!

 

KATIE: We do?

 

TINA: Not a germophobe, nothing like that. I don’t wipe doorknobs.

 

KATIE: There’s nothing wrong with wiping doorknobs.

 

CHA-CHA: Wiping doorknobs is part of our service.

 

TINA: Sure. I just don’t. Go ahead, touch the doorknob if you want.

 

KATIE: I don’t think we–

 

TINA: Touch it!

 

KATIE cautiously touches the doorknob.

 

CHA-CHA: Can we clean your house?

 

TINA: I thought you worked at a nail salon.

 

CHA-CHA: Gig economy. Side hustles. We could clean your house.

 

TINA: I’d actually rather talk to you about a pedicure. And Tonio. I missed his funeral.

 

CHA-CHA: Can we come in?

 

TINA: Well, I’m not coming out. You promise you’re not going to try to save my soul?

 

CHA-CHA: Swear to Christ.

 

TINA: Oh, I get it.

 

TINA steps aside to let them in. “Inside,” there doesn’t need to be any more furniture than a chair and a table with a very conspicuous urn that KATIE and CHA-CHA obviously notice immediately.

 

CHA-CHA: That’s a lovely urn.

 

TINA: My late husband and I bought in on a trip to the Middle East. It’s one of a kind or at least that’s what they told us. They probably lied. But my husband was one of a kind.

 

KATIE: True love.

 

TINA: No, he really was. He had a rare disorder that was challenging at times.

 

KATIE: I was also in a mixed marriage.

 

CHA-CHA: Your husband was the same race as you.

 

KATIE: I’m a vegetarian.

 

CHA-CHA: That does not–

 

TINA: We were not mixed. My husband had Woodpecker Syndrome.

CHA-CHA: What the fuck– excuse me. What, pray tell, is that?

 

TINA: He got an erection whenever he saw a bird.

KATIEL: That’s awful!

 

TINA: Not really. When I was younger, I kept birds.

 

CHA-CHA: Ah–

TINA: When he got older, I phased them out. But he did love that urn so we brought it home and saved it for a special occasion. Would you like some tea?

 

KATIE: Oh no, we couldn’t–

 

CHA-CHA: We’d love some.

 

TINA exits. CHA-CHA grabs the urn.

 

CHA-CHA: Let’s go.

 

KATIE: We can’t steal the urn.

 

CHA-CHA: We have to.

 

KATIE: It’s one of a kind. Like her husband. There are memories attached to it.

 

CHA-CHA: There are memories inside it. And we need them more than she does.

KATIE: Maybe we can just take the ashes.

 

CHA-CHA: How are we gonna do that?

 

KATIE looks around the room and sees nothing (because it’s an empty set lol!)

 

KATIE: Oh!

 

KATIE opens her purse and starts pulling things out and putting them in her coat pockets.

 

KATIE: Here. Put these in your pockets.

 

CHA-CHA: What the–

 

KATIE: Just do it.

 

CHA-CHA puts things in her pockets but is not happy about it.

 

CHA-CHA: Now what?

 

KATIE: Put the ashes in my purse.

 

CHA-CHA: I can’t just pour Tonio in your purse.

 

 

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