[Lights up. A dungeon. A masked executioner stands over a sacrificial martyr – his head on a block.]
Executioner: In darkness we meet, and in darkness shall we thrive.
Martyr: We are well met, in darkness.
Executioner: Your blood is the harvest.
Martyr: My blood is the harvest.
Together: This is good work. This is good work. (etc…)
[A chant of “Good work” “Good work” arises from the multitude. The executioner raises his blade.]
Executioner: This is good-
[The executioner’s cell phone rings. The company is silent. After a few more rings, the executioner
answers, in a hushed tone.]
Executioner: Hello? Honey, I’m kind of in the middle of- How long have you been waiting? I thought we said midnight. Okay, fine. Look, it’s going to take a bit more-. Fine, okay, I’ll be down soon. Soon! (Pause) I love you!
[Executioner puts his phone away, sheepish.]
Executioner: Where were we?
Martyr: Uh. My blood is the harvest?
Executioner: No, we did that part.
Martyr: Oh, right. Uh, oh! We were doing the final verse of the sacrificial chant.
Executioner: Right!
[Executioner raises his blade menacingly.]
Executioner: Shall we?
Ben: Let’s.
Together: This is good work. This is good work. (etc…)
[The executioner’s phone rings again. A collective groan spreads through the multitude.]
Executioner: What? Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-
Martyr: That wasn’t even five minutes.
Executioner: No, I’m on the elevator. I’m by the elevators, I mean. Almost down. Soon. Very soon. I love you!
[Executioner hangs up, sighs.]
Executioner: What can you do?
Martyr: Tell me about it.
Executioner: It’s like she doesn’t even care about the harvest.
Martyr: Oh, don’t say that! I’m sure she cares, she’s just-
[The phone rings again.]
Together: (frustrated) Jesus!
[Executioner reaches for his phone, pulls it out, looks at it.]
Martyr: Not me.
[Martyr reaches in his pocket. Pulls out his cell phone.]
Martyr: Oh, it’s mine. (answers) Hi honey. No, I missed the first bus, so I have to catch the next one. No, I didn’t do it on purpose. But- No, we settled that yesterday, didn’t we? Look, can we talk about this when I get home? (sly wink to executioner) Lovies. Bye.
[Martyr begins texting. Executioner clears his throat.]
Martyr: Oh, Sorry I just want to send a quick text. Almost done. Aaaand…send!
[Martyr puts phone away.]
Together: This is good work. This is good work. (etc…)
[The chanting “Good work” begins again. The executioner raises his blade. The phone rings again, and again, and again as we fade to black.]
