Neonesco

©2005 Christopher Dippel

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Note: Anything contained in brackets should be substituted with the truth of the moment.

A bell rings several times.

Chris: There. It’s time for this play. The audience has called for it, we have pulled it down, and now we are performing it. That’s because we live in New York City and because we are Neo-Futurists.

Yolanda clicks her tongue.

Chris: My name is Chris, and your name is Yolanda. We won’t be joined soon by Sarah and Molly and then finally we won’t be joined by Justin. I like to eat Kit Kats but they make me fatter.

Yolanda: Hm. Why don’t you tell us what this play is about?

Chris: It’s about 2 minutes long. HA HA HA. I just finished spending a month and a half directing two Ionesco plays at Hofstra University. The interesting thing is that they were written by different Ionescos.

Yolanda: But weren’t they both written by Eugene Ionesco?

Chris: Both authors are named Eugene Ionesco, but the Eugene Ionesco who wrote The Bald Soprano was two years younger than the Eugene Ionesco who wrote The Lesson.

Yolanda: But weren’t they both written by the Eugene Ionesco who wrote Rhinoceros and The Chairs?

Chris: No, you’re thinking of two other Eugene Ionescos. The two Eugene Ionescos who wrote those plays were decidedly older than either of the first two Eugene Ionescos we mentioned.

Yolanda: But aren’t we talking about Eugene Ionesco, the playwright?

Chris: All the Eugene Ionescos are playwrights.

Yolanda: What a difficult trade. Were the plays at Hofstra understood?

Chris: People laughed at the right parts, but one cannot say that they were understood. The plays are too chaotic and too inconsistent. People didn’t laugh at the right parts, but still one can say that they were understood. The plays are too robotic and even. They’re absurdist.

Yolanda: You’re a dick.

Chris: (standing up, yelling) If you’re saying that just because I wrote that line for you, you know very well I don’t appreciate that kind of blind adherence to my scripts. I prefer a little spontaneity.

Yolanda: But you didn’t write any into this play.

Chris: Yes I did. Just not for you.

Marta enters

Marta: I’m Marta. I’m also a Neo-Futurist. I’ve spent a [pleasant] day [listening to music], and now, I’m here.

Chris: I hope you had a [pleasant] day [listening to music].

Yolanda: And now, you’re here.

Marta: Yolanda, Chris, I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but since I saw the plays I… I would like… I would like to say something about them myself.

Chris: Go right ahead.

Long silence as Marta stands in discomfort.

Yolanda: Why isn’t she speaking?

Chris: I didn’t write her any more lines.

They exit, leaving Marta onstage still unable to speak.

Curtain

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