Who Wrecks?
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Dec 6, 2005
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Black Bishop
(The entire play is set within a cushioned psychiatrist's room. The room appears comfortable at first glance, but is extraordinarily sterile and covered in plastic wrap from head to foot in order to protect it from its more vile visitors. It appears well maintained and cleaned, despite its rather unsavory purpose. A sofa, heavily covered in plastic to keep it from being damaged or stained, sits across the room's far wall. Two plastic covered cairs and a covered table sit in the center of the room. A surveillance camera hangs in the right corner, almost unnoticeable, save for its tiny red light. The floor is covered in lavish rug, which is also covered in a neat plastic coating. The plastic and the camera defeat the purpose of the comfortably small room, making what should be comfortable feel sinister and wrong.)
(A boy sits in one of the chairs. He is relatively skinny for his age, and appears to be around 15, but with closer examination one would feel that he is a bit older than that. A red scarf is tightly fastened around his neck, worn almost like a tie with a sports coat, collared white shirt, and skintight black pants. A pair of black loafers with tassels completes the outfit. There isn't a single visible spot on any of the boy's clothes, and his immaculate appearence, as well as his blank stare seem to match the room. The boy seems hot, yet refuses to remove his scarf or sweater as an act of almost masochistic self repression. He waits, sitting in his chair, unblinking with impeccable posture and an unemotional constant stare at the door. He looks very uncomfortable, seeming to believe that if he were to move, security would pounce on him immediately and drag him back to his cell.)
(Obviously late, a man who appears to be the exact opposite of the boy stumbles into the room. His attire seems sloppy and unprofessional: a stained white tee shirt, and loose khakis with what appear to be thong sandals. Not quite something many would expect to see from the so called "authority" of this office. He's balding, but makes up for it with his thick beard. It's such a contrast that it seems that he is making a conscious effort to make up for his lack of hair. He sighs deeply as he sits down across from the boy, staring at him, and waiting for him to acknowledge his existence. The boy does not, and the man sighs again before putting on a mask of happiness that many adults wear when speaking to children.)
Simon White: Hello, as you probably already know, I am Simon White. I apologize for my tardiness, I misplaced my watch....
(The boy stays quiet)
Simon White: Yes, ummm... Anyway, I have a game for you, a very special game with some very simple rules. It's like chess, except that whenever I take a piece I get to ask you a question. How you're feeling, what you're thinking, things like that. If you take one of my pieces, you can do the exact same thing. If I win, I get to ask you as many questions as I want, and if you win, you can leave. Sound good? Nod if it sounds good.
(Boy nods)
Simon White: Excellent, now let's begin. I'll take the white pieces, if you don't mind.
(He moves his piece. The boy responds by moving one of his own pieces. Mr. White smiles as if he's already won something. Mr. White takes one of the boy's pawns)
Simon White: I've taken your pawn, now I get to ask you a question. What is your name?
Anders Ebony: Anders Ebony.
(They play a little more before Mr. White takes another pawn)
Simon White: How do you feel right now Anders?
Anders Ebony: I feel likg you're treating me like a child. I must warn you, I'm no child, Mr. White.
(Ander immediately snatches a rook)
Anders Ebony: Now I have a question for you, Mr. white. My parents sent you here, didn;t they?
Simon White: Yes. Your parents did hire me to oversee your mental health.
(They play a bit more, and then Anders takes a piece)
Anders Ebony: Are you reporting back to them, Mr. White? Are you spying on me for their sake?
Simon White: I swear that anything and everything that's said in here will remain confidential.
(Simon takes another piece)
Simon White: Do you trust me, Anders?
Anders Ebony: My last psychiatrist landed me here in the first place, Mr. White. I have absolutely no reason to do so.
(Anders takes another piece)
Anders Ebony: Would you deceive me, Mr. White? Because if there's one thing I disdain above all others, it's a liar. And believe me, I can smell a liar from miles away.
Simon White: No Anders, I would never deceive you.
(Mr. White takes a piece)
Simon White: Why do you call me Mr. White instead of Simon? Is it because you don't trust me?
Anders Ebony: No, it's because I don't know you well enough just yet, Mr. White, and I prefer the formal term.
(Anders takes a piece)
Anders Ebony: I would prefer it if you referred to me as Mr. Ebony instead of Anders. Can you do that?
Simon White: Yes. But why is that, Anders?
Anders Ebony: Because it would show that you respect me and don't think I'm a immature child.
Simon White: But you are a child, Anders, you are a child
(Mr. White takes a piece)
Simon White: Why should I call you Mr. Ebony, Anders, when it puts such a distance between the two of us? I want you to trust me, and there can be no trust without comfortable communication.
Anders Ebony: Because if you refer to me as Anders, I won't respond. If I don't respond, you won't be able to do your job. If you cannot do your job, then you'll eventually be replaced by a more intelligent, more capable therapist willing to bend to my whims. I've done it before and I'm not afraid to do it again, Mr. White. You have your rules, I have mine. You respect me, I respect you.
(Anders makes a move)
Anders Ebony: That's checkmate, Mr. White. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to catch up on in my cell.
(Starts to leave, but then circles back)
Anders Ebony: One more thing, Mr. White.
Simon White: Yes?
Anders Ebony: Do not underestimate me. I have all the power in this situation, and I can make your life hell if I so choose. I expect just a little bit of dignity, are we clear?
Simon White: Good night, Mr. Ebony.
Anders Ebony: Likewise, Mr. White, likewise.
(Anders exits the scene with a slight victory smile across his face. It is clear that he was the winner of this round)
More to come
(The entire play is set within a cushioned psychiatrist's room. The room appears comfortable at first glance, but is extraordinarily sterile and covered in plastic wrap from head to foot in order to protect it from its more vile visitors. It appears well maintained and cleaned, despite its rather unsavory purpose. A sofa, heavily covered in plastic to keep it from being damaged or stained, sits across the room's far wall. Two plastic covered cairs and a covered table sit in the center of the room. A surveillance camera hangs in the right corner, almost unnoticeable, save for its tiny red light. The floor is covered in lavish rug, which is also covered in a neat plastic coating. The plastic and the camera defeat the purpose of the comfortably small room, making what should be comfortable feel sinister and wrong.)
(A boy sits in one of the chairs. He is relatively skinny for his age, and appears to be around 15, but with closer examination one would feel that he is a bit older than that. A red scarf is tightly fastened around his neck, worn almost like a tie with a sports coat, collared white shirt, and skintight black pants. A pair of black loafers with tassels completes the outfit. There isn't a single visible spot on any of the boy's clothes, and his immaculate appearence, as well as his blank stare seem to match the room. The boy seems hot, yet refuses to remove his scarf or sweater as an act of almost masochistic self repression. He waits, sitting in his chair, unblinking with impeccable posture and an unemotional constant stare at the door. He looks very uncomfortable, seeming to believe that if he were to move, security would pounce on him immediately and drag him back to his cell.)
(Obviously late, a man who appears to be the exact opposite of the boy stumbles into the room. His attire seems sloppy and unprofessional: a stained white tee shirt, and loose khakis with what appear to be thong sandals. Not quite something many would expect to see from the so called "authority" of this office. He's balding, but makes up for it with his thick beard. It's such a contrast that it seems that he is making a conscious effort to make up for his lack of hair. He sighs deeply as he sits down across from the boy, staring at him, and waiting for him to acknowledge his existence. The boy does not, and the man sighs again before putting on a mask of happiness that many adults wear when speaking to children.)
Simon White: Hello, as you probably already know, I am Simon White. I apologize for my tardiness, I misplaced my watch....
(The boy stays quiet)
Simon White: Yes, ummm... Anyway, I have a game for you, a very special game with some very simple rules. It's like chess, except that whenever I take a piece I get to ask you a question. How you're feeling, what you're thinking, things like that. If you take one of my pieces, you can do the exact same thing. If I win, I get to ask you as many questions as I want, and if you win, you can leave. Sound good? Nod if it sounds good.
(Boy nods)
Simon White: Excellent, now let's begin. I'll take the white pieces, if you don't mind.
(He moves his piece. The boy responds by moving one of his own pieces. Mr. White smiles as if he's already won something. Mr. White takes one of the boy's pawns)
Simon White: I've taken your pawn, now I get to ask you a question. What is your name?
Anders Ebony: Anders Ebony.
(They play a little more before Mr. White takes another pawn)
Simon White: How do you feel right now Anders?
Anders Ebony: I feel likg you're treating me like a child. I must warn you, I'm no child, Mr. White.
(Ander immediately snatches a rook)
Anders Ebony: Now I have a question for you, Mr. white. My parents sent you here, didn;t they?
Simon White: Yes. Your parents did hire me to oversee your mental health.
(They play a bit more, and then Anders takes a piece)
Anders Ebony: Are you reporting back to them, Mr. White? Are you spying on me for their sake?
Simon White: I swear that anything and everything that's said in here will remain confidential.
(Simon takes another piece)
Simon White: Do you trust me, Anders?
Anders Ebony: My last psychiatrist landed me here in the first place, Mr. White. I have absolutely no reason to do so.
(Anders takes another piece)
Anders Ebony: Would you deceive me, Mr. White? Because if there's one thing I disdain above all others, it's a liar. And believe me, I can smell a liar from miles away.
Simon White: No Anders, I would never deceive you.
(Mr. White takes a piece)
Simon White: Why do you call me Mr. White instead of Simon? Is it because you don't trust me?
Anders Ebony: No, it's because I don't know you well enough just yet, Mr. White, and I prefer the formal term.
(Anders takes a piece)
Anders Ebony: I would prefer it if you referred to me as Mr. Ebony instead of Anders. Can you do that?
Simon White: Yes. But why is that, Anders?
Anders Ebony: Because it would show that you respect me and don't think I'm a immature child.
Simon White: But you are a child, Anders, you are a child
(Mr. White takes a piece)
Simon White: Why should I call you Mr. Ebony, Anders, when it puts such a distance between the two of us? I want you to trust me, and there can be no trust without comfortable communication.
Anders Ebony: Because if you refer to me as Anders, I won't respond. If I don't respond, you won't be able to do your job. If you cannot do your job, then you'll eventually be replaced by a more intelligent, more capable therapist willing to bend to my whims. I've done it before and I'm not afraid to do it again, Mr. White. You have your rules, I have mine. You respect me, I respect you.
(Anders makes a move)
Anders Ebony: That's checkmate, Mr. White. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to catch up on in my cell.
(Starts to leave, but then circles back)
Anders Ebony: One more thing, Mr. White.
Simon White: Yes?
Anders Ebony: Do not underestimate me. I have all the power in this situation, and I can make your life hell if I so choose. I expect just a little bit of dignity, are we clear?
Simon White: Good night, Mr. Ebony.
Anders Ebony: Likewise, Mr. White, likewise.
(Anders exits the scene with a slight victory smile across his face. It is clear that he was the winner of this round)
More to come
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