[The action of this piece begins without an introduction, immediately following the preceding piece – preferably Sgt. Rigsby.]
[As Sgt. Rigsby is breaking down, PAUL and BEN enter, wearing helmets and protective gear and carrying whiffle bats (or other such items of mild blunt trauma).]
PAUL: Jaye? Are you ready for us?
BEN: Hey Scot.
SCOT: Hi Ben.
PAUL: Ben, come on. We only have two minutes to tech.
BEN: Oh, sorry.
PAUL: So Jaye, we’re going to come out after Bruce introduces us, you can just keep the lights how they are.
BEN: I’ll say “Hi, I’m Ben.”
PAUL: And I’ll say “I’m Paul.”
BEN: Pause for laughter.
PAUL: We’ll banter back and forth.
BEN: I’ll have my ukulele handy. Don’t forget your concertina.
PAUL: Right. Concertina.
BEN: Then we’ll do something crazy.
PAUL: Wacky.
BEN: We don’t know what though.
PAUL: Then we’ll start the song. We’re gonna do Billy Idol’s “White Wedding”.
BEN: A funny “White Wedding”.
PAUL: Yeah, it’ll be good. The audience will really dig it.
BEN: God I hope so.
PAUL: And then we’ll end. Lights out.
BEN: Got that, Jaye?
JAYE: Um, what?
PAUL: Awesome!
BEN: Okay, we’re done.
[PAUL and BEN take a seat in the audience. BRET enters, irritated.]
BRET: What the fuck are you two doing?
PAUL: Teching our piece for tomorrow’s Spin the Bottle.
BEN: Yeah.
BRET: But Spin the Bottle is tonight!
BEN: Isn’t today Thursday?
BRET: Yes, it’s on Thursday this month. Don’t tell me you think we’re all here to watch you tech, do you?
[PAUL and BEN gaze out into the audience. They re-enter the stage.]
PAUL: Oops.
BRET: And just what the fuck are you wearing?
[RICHARD speaks from the audience and enters the stage during the following:]
RICHARD: I can answer that, Bret. Paul and Ben here are under my tutelage, and every Thursday I train them in the Hai-kee-do method of personal protection and assault I learned while studying abroad in the mid-seventies.
BRET: Japan?
RICHARD: No, Moses Lake.
BRET: Would you care to demonstrate this training?
RICHARD: It would be my pleasure. But I must warn you Bret, as well as you out there in theatre-land that this is a highly technical training method and should not, under any circumstances, be executed at home or at work without proper supervision by a Hai-kee-do sensai such as myself. Let us begin. Hah!
[PAUL and BEN snap to attention.]
RICHARD: Hah!
[PAUL and BEN assume a Tai-Chi-style pose of defense.]
RICHARD: Hit him!
[PAUL hits BEN with his bat.]
RICHARD: Harder!
[PAUL hits BEN harder.]
RICHARD: Hit him! Hit him! Hit him! Kick his ass! Fuck him up!
[PAUL wails on BEN until he is on the ground in a fetal position.]
RICHARD: Okay, you may stop now.
[PAUL continues to hit BEN.]
RICHARD: I said stop! Hah!
[PAUL snaps to attention.]
BRET: That’s unbelievable.
RICHARD: Would you like to try?
BRET: But I’m not a certified sensai.
RICHARD: Fuck that. You wanna hit him, don’t you?
[BRET grabs PAUL’s bat and starts whacking BEN, still on the floor.]
BRET: Whack! Whack! Whack!
RICHARD: You’ve done this before.
[BRET takes a moment to wipe his brow.]
BEN: This sucks.
RICHARD: What’s that?
BEN: I said this sucks.
RICHARD: Congratulations Ben, you’ve ascended to the next level in your Hai-kee-do training.
BEN: [standing up] What’s that?
RICHARD: Fending off three attackers.
[RICHARD picks up two more bats, hands one to PAUL, and the three of them chase BEN off stage, hitting him.]
[Lights out.}
