Play 5


Scene: D is half sitting half laying on couch playing video games.
D: Come on come on! COME ON! Gotcha sucker! Woo! – ahhhh
E: Offstage, but coming on stage. Hey are you okay in there?
D: I’m fine, go away.
E: Look, you can’t even play Team Skylo without hurting yourself.
D: It’s TS2. And there are eight year olds that need to be put in their place.
E: You need to be put in your place – the doctor’s office.
D: What? Actually puts down controller. There is NO way that I am going to let some quack poke and prod me all over and then tell me to eat better. I feel better today actually.
E: Better. Really?
D: Yeah. Returns to the game.
E: You’ve been like this for two weeks. You essentially haven’t left the couch. In two weeks.
D: I got up to go to the bathroom.
E: And thank god for that. But I’ve even brought you food. Although in retrospect I suspect that your constant request for pizza and beer probably didn’t help anything.
D: Go away. I feel fine.
E: You got hurt playing a video game!
D: Yeah, well, it’s only when I capture a Skylo. I get a little excited.
E pulls the plug on the console. D jumps up then collapses in pain.
D: HEY! What ar – ahhhhh!
E: Mutter Finally. Drags D off stage.
Scene: Examination room at the doctor’s office. D is on the butcher paper on the slab, E is in the chair.
D: When the doctor comes and asks me to take my pants off I’m gonna tell him I’ll see him in his office with HIS pants off! Ha! owww
E: Without looking up Shut it Jerry.
D: As C walks in wearing a lab coat and stethoscope holding a chart Nothing wrong with a bit of creative borrowing.
C: Well, what do we have here?
D: Nothing! I’m fine. My dumb friend over there insisted I come in.
E: He hasn’t moved off the couch in weeks and collapsed from the excitement of catching a Skylo. Something’s wrong.
C: Let’s see what we have here. Why don’t you take off your pants and tell me where it hurts?
E: Jumps up. He’s says it’s his stomach! Or abdomen or whatever. Above the belt.
C: Right then… well, let’s get those pants and shirt off and see what’s going on.
D: Why don’t YOU take —
D gets hit with a pair of stares.
D: Hmph. Strips down to underwear.
C: Alright, now I just need you to tell me where it hurts. Starts poking D in the stomach.
D: WHAT? What is this? Are you kidding me? C pauses. Those are like icicles! Shaped like daggers! And you mean to tell me that with all those MRI machines and whatnot the best we’ve got is you poking me in the stomach??
C: Yes?
D: I won’t go for it. I’ve had enough. Goes to put pants back on and cringes in pain.
C: Hmmm, looks like you could have IBD we’ll need…
E: What? Wait, what’s that?
C: Oh right. Um, let’s see here, ah yes. Inflammatory bowel disease. Or gastrointestinal hemorrhage. Can’t tell yet. We’ll need to do a full colonoscopy to determine the source of the problem.
D: Wait gastro what? Bowel disease? What’s going on? What’s a colon-ask-a-pea?
C: A colonoscopy is the endoscopic examination of the distal regions of your large and small bowels. Before the procedure you’ll have…
D: Slow down! I deserve to know what’s going on! Explain that to me again. But no more doctor talk.
C: Right. We’re going to insert a miniature fiber-optic viewing device into your colon.
D: blank face. E: holding back a snicker.
D: Uh, one more time, just for practice. A bit simpler you know?
C: I’m not really sure how else to explain a colono…
D: JUST TRY! owww
C: Well, we’re going to take a little tube we can see through…
D: Okay…?
C: And with it we will be…
D: Yeah…?
C: Sigh. Plumbing the depths of your anus.


Composed June 8, 2013.
Inspiration: Planetary science: Plumbing the depths of Uranus and Neptune


Physics, beer, or dart related thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s