A One-Act by Charles Schnell, former Blog Staffer, now freelancer who aspires to write and publish the book A Hundred Ways to Ruin a Date and Two Hundred Ways to Fix It.

(SAM, a teenage boy, is in his bedroom lying on his bed, preoccupied with his phone. He’s wearing a yarmulke. There’s not much to his room: a bed, a dresser, a desk with a chair, a TV, and a video game console. Then, DEATH—a sexy, flirtatious young lady in her 20s—crawls through the window in nothing but her black undergarments, which have skull designs plastered all over. She’s also boasting a skull-plastered small black backpack. She tumbles onto SAM’s carpeted floor.)

SAM. Holy smoke! What’re you doing?

DEATH. (brushing herself off) Hello, Sam.

SAM. Who are you? Jennifer Aniston?

DEATH. No, I’m Death.

SAM. Is that your supermodel name or….?

DEATH. My real name. Listen, can I sit down? Climbing up here really took a lot out of me. (sits next to him on his bed)

SAM. (looking with eyes full of amazement) Okay, well, what do you want, Death?

DEATH. Do you have any Sprite? I could really use a refreshment.

SAM. Only Sierra Mist.

DEATH. Damn mortals.

SAM. What’re you doing here? You wouldn’t have come all this way just for a Sprite, Death. My parents would kill me if they found a girl like you in my room.

DEATH. (surveying him) Or they would pinch themselves out of disbelief. I’ve come to take you to the afterlife.

SAM. Okay….

DEATH. Your time has come.

SAM. Okay….

DEATH. Now all I need you to do is kiss me.

SAM. (does a double take, acknowledges audience) Okay! (leans in toward her)

(He shuts his eyes and goes in for the kiss. DEATH smiles devilishly and leans in. Just as their lips are about to touch, DEATH burps. Loudly. DEATH jumps up, flustered and embarrassed.)

DEATH. Oh, I’m so embarrassed! I thought I had finished digesting all the others!

SAM. Others?

DEATH. My apologies.

SAM. You mean you…

(Death and Sam speak simultaneously.) DEATH. Would’ve sent your soul to the afterlife and eaten your body?          SAM. Go to other guys houses and kiss them?

DEATH. Yes.          SAM. What!?

DEATH. That is the idea. How else are people supposed to go when it’s their time?

SAM. What do you mean?

DEATH. I’ve already told you, silly. I’m Death!

SAM. So when you said my time was up….

DEATH. Yep!

SAM. Wait, hold on! I don’t want to go yet.

DEATH. Oh, oh, what am I supposed to say here!? Sorry, forgive me it’s my first day on the job. Hold on, let me look at the handbook.

(DEATH pulls out the “BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO TAKING SOULS” out of her small black backpack.)

SAM. Job? Handbook?

DEATH. Ah, yes. Here we go. Ahem…. “We sincerely apologize that you don’t want to go yet. But unfortunately, your time has come. In life, we all must undergo things we do not want to. Nor are those things often ever under our control. For example, one time a man booked a ticket on American Airlines and got stuck next to a corporate lawyer for the entire flight.”

SAM. How’s that supposed to make me feel better?

DEATH. “The irony of this story is that after the flight, the guy wanted his time to come. Sometimes it can be a blessing!”

SAM. Look, I have no idea who you are or what crazy organization you belong to or how much red meat you’ve consumed recently. All I know is that you are very hot and I really want to kiss you. But, you ain’t worth going to the afterlife for!

DEATH. C’mon, kiss me!

SAM. No! If I kiss you, my soul will be sent to the afterlife, right?

DEATH. Yep!

SAM. What if I don’t kiss you?

DEATH. Then I’ll just have to take you normally.

SAM. Normally?

DEATH. Like all the other Deaths.

SAM. So you don’t have to kiss me? Then why do you? Not that I’m complaining.

DEATH. Oh, don’t get so fret up. They assign me to people who haven’t had their first kiss yet. That’s my position. I kiss them out of pity.

SAM. Hey, I’ve had my first kiss!

DEATH. Oh, don’t try to lie to me. In the afterlife, we know all. Besides, your cousin doesn’t count.

(SAM opens his mouth, but can’t think of anything to say to defend himself. He turns to hide his shame, notices his game console, and gets an idea.)

DEATH. Well, are you ready? I’m on a tight schedule. Kiss me already!

SAM. Wait! How about we make a deal? Let’s play a game of Madden. If you win, you get to take me. You don’t even need to kiss me! But if I win, you don’t take my soul and let me keep living.

DEATH. What’s in it for me?

SAM. What? You scared you’re going to lose?

DEATH. Scared!? I’m Death! I’ll have you know that at the office, we all play Madden on our time off! You’re on!

(SAM turns on the console, the TV. SAM sits on the bed while DEATH sits in the desk chair as they face the TV. They start playing.)

SAM: So what’s it like in the after life?

DEATH. Way better than here.

SAM. Really?

DEATH. Yeah! We’ve got Madden, cupcakes, blankets, quality plumbing, almost no bugs, quite profitable crop yields, a true democracy (as opposed to the American system), Dunkin’ Donuts. Plus the stock market is soaring right now.

SAM. Wow, it seems as if the afterlife has no downsides.

DEATH. Well, I wouldn’t say that. You’ve gotta die, and that’s a one-way trip. And, as much as reality sucks, it’s really the only place you can take a nice, hot shower.

SAM. Well, you can’t have everything.

DEATH. And the worst part—we’ve still got serial killers, rapists, and insurance salesmen.

(They focus on the game for a beat.)

DEATH. Ha! Interception!

SAM. I’m still up by 7…. So, how long have you been doing this death gig?

DEATH. About three days.

SAM. A newbie?

DEATH. Yep!

SAM. How many people have you kissed so far?

DEATH. 240.

SAM. Were you human before this or….?

DEATH. Nope. I was created three days ago.

SAM. By who?

DEATH. Death! My brothers and sisters and I are all extensions of Death.

SAM. Do you have any allergies?

DEATH. Nuts. Death is VERY allergic to nuts.

SAM. Really? Nuts are the weakness, huh? Nuts: the key to immortality.

DEATH. Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Ah!

SAM. And another touchdown for me! Halftime show!

(SAM gets up and dances. He pulls out his phone and blasts “Get Down Tonight” by KC and the Sunshine Band.)

DEATH. What are you doing?

SAM. I’m winning. I’m cheating Death. This calls for a celebration!

DEATH. Not so fast. Look, half time’s over. Here comes my comeback!

SAM. You’re down by 21….

DEATH. Zip it.

(Sam stops the music and returns to the game, and thus the conversation.)

SAM. So, Death, I guess you know everything about the universe, right?

DEATH. Yes.

SAM. Can I ask you some questions that plague my existentialist mind?

DEATH. Sure.

SAM. Are there any restaurants in the afterlife? If so, how late are they open and what are their Yelp scores?

DEATH. Well, to put things simply, have you ever tried the KFC breakfast specials on a Tuesday morning?

SAM. Yeah.

DEATH. Afterlife food is worse.

SAM. Well, that’s great. At least I can finally lose some weight.

DEATH. Better late than never.

SAM. You know, a bunch of people think that the creation story is a myth, but is evolution really real?

DEATH. This is still quite a heated debate in the afterlife. However, let me put it this way: Evolution is the idea that we’re evolving, or, in other words, getting better as a species, and looking at you, clearly that’s not the case.

SAM. We sure are getting better at Madden though.

DEATH. Yeah, yeah…. You say as I tie up the game!

SAM. Marvelous.  

DEATH. One minute left!

SAM. (attains a serious tone, while still focusing on the game) Hey, Death….

DEATH. (still focused on the game) What!?

SAM. (glances at her, but his priorities are still clearly the game) You’re… really sexy.

DEATH. I know.

SAM. I think… I want to take you up on that kiss.

DEATH. (drops attention to game) You know what’ll happen right?

SAM. (glances at her more, but still pressing buttons occasionally) Yeah, and after hearing about how great the afterlife is, how could I not kiss you?

DEATH. Come here, Sam. Kiss me as if your death depends on it.

(He inches his lips closer and closer to hers. Just as the lips are about to touch….)

SAM. And touchdown! (he celebrates) I ran out the clock and scored at the last second, look!

DEATH. You mischievous midget, I’m gonna kill you!

SAM. Nuh-uh. A deal’s a deal. I’ve won my life! I never lose!

DEATH. (giving him one last glance over) Clearly.

SAM. Buh-bye Death!

DEATH. I don’t get paid enough for this. My brothers and sisters are never gonna let this up! Agh! Farewell, kid. I’ve got other prepubescent boys who need their dreams fulfilled.

SAM. Are you referring to the kissing or dying?

DEATH. Exactly.

(She runs and dives through the window and crashes through the glass, forgetting she closed it earlier)

DEATH. (from outside and below) Ow! My pelvis!

MOTHER. (offstage) Sam! What was that?

FATHER. (offstage) I told you to stop throwing the controller when you lose, damn it!

(BLACKOUT)

Editor: Luke Langlois