Mama – (Scene 1)

 MAMA

A Play In Progress

by

© Brett T. Botbyl

Lights up. Kitchen. Mother is sitting in her bathrobe at one end of the kitchen table. Before her is a frilly place mat, cup of coffee, can of gun oil and various cleaning implements. She carefully cleans a chrome, .38 caliber revolver. Billy enters in pajamas and large “monster feet” slippers. He turns his back on the audience as he loudly rummages through the cabinets and cupboards.

BILLY
I had the craziest dream last night.

MOTHER
Hmmmm?

BILLY
I was a hot dog in a roadside diner down off of the Garden State Parkway.

MOTHER
Oh?

BILLY
Yeah. And you were…hey, do we have any more of that Strawberry Toast Cereal?

MOTHER
Behind the sugar. Top shelf.

BILLY
So, yeah. I was a hot dog. And…uh, you were there. And Dad was there. And Jimmy and Peach. It was so fuckin weird.

MOTHER
Language.

BILLY
Sorry. (beat) So…I was a hot dog, right?

MOTHER
Um hmmm.

BILLY
Hey, do we have any more of those toaster Danish double packs left? I love the…

MOTHER/BILLY
(simultaneously)
Grape ones.

MOTHER
All out.

BILLY
Huh.

 (He Billy moves to the refrigerator, removes the milk carton and adds milk to his bowl)

BILLY
Yeahhhh. Anyway, so this really fat lady walks in and asks if we got any more of those hot dogs that she heard about on the Food Talk radio show. That one with those guys.

MOTHER
Mmmmmm.

BILLY
And she walks up to you and you’re wearing one of those old timey waitress uniforms with the apron and all the flower print and shit.

MOTHER
Language.

BILLY
Sorry.

(he moves to the large silverware drawer and rummages until he finds a large soup spoon)

So anyway, she asks you and you just look at her. I think it was because she was really fat.
I mean like just-ate-Brooklyn fat with a face like Randy Jackson.
You were probably shocked that she even fit in the front door of the diner.

MOTHER
Yeah?

(she finishes cleaning the gun and begins to load shells into the chamber)

BILLY
And you know what happens?

(no response)

You KNOW what Dad does?

(Mother shakes her head no)

MOTHER
Mmmm mmmm.

BILLY
Dad just smiles at Randyzilla, grabs his big old barbeque tongs, pinches me by the throat,
lifts me up over the deep fryer and just drops…just drops me in. PLOP!
Just like that. I mean, he doesn’t even say he’s sorry or nuthin. Just drops his only son into the hot oil.

MOTHER
Awwwwww.

BILLY
Right!? I mean, it’s not like I feel pain or anything. But it’s still not right. It really freaked me out that he would do that!

(Billy starts rummaging through cabinets again)

Where’s the sugar?

MOTHER
What dear?

BILLY
Sugar. The healthy kind. Raw.

MOTHER
In front of the Strawberry Toast cereal. Top shelf.

(he returns to the cabinet and finds the sugar bowl. He removes the lid and jams the large spoon in, finding it too large to fit.)

BILLY
Huh. Too big.

(he dumps sugar directly over his cereal)

So, yeah…it didn’t hurt. But it was really hard to breathe.
And I rolled over like a log in a river and looked up through the amber bubbles of the boiling oil and could clearly make out Dad’s face.
And ya know what he was doing?!

MOTHER
No.

BILLY
He was smiling! He was watching me cook and smiling as my skin began to blister and my juices bubbled up through my head. Smiling.

(Billy turns and finally looks at his mother just as she finished loading the last bullet. He holds his bowl up and she snaps the chamber shut with a loud click.)

BILLY
Mom. (beat) What are you doing with that gun?

MOTHER
I’m going to kill your father, Billy.

(from the front room there is a sound of the front door opening, then loudly slamming shut)

FATHER

(offstage)

Honey, I’m home!

(Mother stands smoothly and quickly, walks upstage past Billy and exits to the front room. There is silence, then a loud BANG.
Billy releases the bowl as it crashes to the ground. Lights out.)

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About bretticus

My name is Brett Thomas Botbyl. Iʻm a rogue, nomadic Scorpio madman theatre director with a love of cheese, dogs, zombies and telling the many stories woven from the threads of my fabulous life. You watch as I revise the world... View all posts by bretticus

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