#32: LITTLER WHITE LIES

AARON BURR: "Kill him? No way! Alex and I are besties!"

MAYOR OF SALEM, MA: "Witch Smitch! Salem will be synonmous with one thing and one thing only, chicken feed. We're the 6th largest city in America, and the 6th we'll stay!"

COLONIAL SETTLER: "Oh don't worry, whiny pants. It's just the sniffles. It's called smallpox - how bad could it be?"

BEN FRANKLIN: "I didn't, repeat didn't, get black out wasted on month old moonshine and crack that bell. I swear!"

#31: LITTLE WHITE LIES

(Lights up. A long line of characters. They speak.)

SMALL BRITISH BOY: Little White Lies from History. Overheard, recorded, hidden away for centuries and now dramatized before your very eyes.

GEORGE WASHINGTON: "I cannot tell a lie. No president can. He that lies shall never take this office!"

BETSY ROSS: "Thirteen makes complete sense. Anything more is overkill. Twenty? Thirty? What's next, fifty?!?! Come on, no one is that power-hungry and manipulative that they need the whole continent. Besides, that land belongs to the natives. No one in a million years would - or could for that matter - ever take that land away from them. Ever. What are we just going to say "get out" and move 'em?? Silliness."

MARTHA WASHINGTON: "In my lifetime it will be done. I can see it as clear as daylight. Two words: flying cars!"

JOHN HANCOCK: "People will get over it. It's just a last name. Society is not as juvenile as we think them to be. They'll see past the cock as see the real me."

(BETSY AND MARTHA giggle.)

LITTLE BRITISH BOY: He said cock!

TIMOTHY MIFFLIN: "I will be remembered and not overshadowed by the likes of Franklin, Adams and the rest."

GEORGE WASHINGTON: You sure will, Tom! (MARTHA whispers in his ear.) Tim!

BENEDICT ARNOLD: "Switch sides? I would never."

WILLIAM LIVINGSTON: "As the first governor of this fine state, let be known: New Jersey will rise to great triumphs. Its natural wonders, pleasant smells and friendly people will be admired forever!"

GEORGE CLINTON: "As the first governor of this fine state, let be known: New York will lead by example. No elected official in the future of my fine state will ever use a prostitute again!"

WILLIAM EWEN: "As the first governor of this fine state, Georgia, let be known: of course I know what a buffer colony is!" (He takes out a nice pair of shoes and begins buffing.)

LITTLE BRITISH BOY: Get it? He's buffing shoes, thus implying he has misunderstood the meaning of the word "buffer" in context with the colonial history of his own state! Silliness abounds everywhere. Let's take a further look.

HENRY CLAY: "With full confidence, I promise that many fine academic institutions of our newborn nation - Harvard, Yale, and the likes - will be swallowed whole and eaten up by a certain scholastic juggernaut that is sure to surpass the others in reputation, endowment, and presitge within the next five to ten years. This rising gem will leave all others in the dust. The college that I am proud to call my home away from home: Kentucky's very own, Transylvania University!"

(To be continued...)

#30: OLD MAN ANTICS

(1870. WILLIAM CANBY, the grandson of BETSY sits at the beside of HENRY, his distant relative. HENRY is 95 years old and lovin' it.)

WILLIAM: This is to be an official document. You'll have to be a little more consistent with your replies.
HENRY: (offended) Don't call me consistent!
WILLIAM: I didn't.
HENRY: You're pressing me for memories that I can't produce. But I will.
WILLIAM: Uncle Henry, that's not -
HENRY: Great uncle Henry!!
WILLIAM: (agreeing begrudgingly) Okay, great uncle Henry -
HENRY: Once removed!
WILLIAM: (more frustrated) Okay.... great uncle Henry once removed -
HENRY: Loving and literate brother to Marie Evelyn, Joseph Hunter, and the long-gone but impeccably-clean Claire Elizabeth!
WILLIAM: Loving and literate - (giving up) How about I just call you Henry, eh?
HENRY: Henry A.? Okay!
WILLIAM: Great. Now, back to your memories. This affidavit must be one hundred percent truth. They've got their fact-checkers so we must not have holes. The stories I collect from you and the others must be truth beyond any doubt. This is essential to setting the record straight and getting our family the recognition we deserve once and for all. Now tell me again your memory of how grandma came to sew the flag. Details are key.
HENRY: Funny isn't it.
WILLIAM: What is?
HENRY: If you think of it, the Civil War was not very civil. The opposite really.
WILLIAM: Are you even listening to me?
HENRY: So what does the A stand for?
WILLIAM: The A?
HENRY: Henry A. You said it yourself. Abraham I hope.
WILLIAM: Henry please. It took me weeks to track you down. I have a deadline and I need information about Betsy.
HENRY: Perhaps you'd like the signed letter in which she confesses to the world that she was the true and only designer of the flag? The signed letter that she kept hidden away the entirety of her lifetime so she could humbly sink into the shadows and collect dust before her looming and pathetic consumption by a slow and unnoticed death? The signed letter which I swore to her that I would reveal to you if you ever came looking for me wanting the truth and nothing but the truth so help you God??
WILLIAM: Yes, Henry, yes! Where is it?!?
HENRY: It's the left drawer of the desk. Run and fetch it! Before it's too late! It's right next to the sword in the stone and the jeweled treasures of Atlantis.
WILLIAM: Shame on you!
HENRY: Bah! The list of things that I've convinced people are in that drawer! Letters, midgets, more drawers. I could go on forever.
WILLIAM: Take this seriously. This is serious stuff!
HENRY: Here we go. Why should I take anything seriously? I've lived more life than anyone I know. And lived it well. Fact and fiction are the same when you've lived what's I've lived. I'll go out laughing or I won't go out. Take that seriously!
WILLIAM: Just tell me the story as your remember it, the one you said you knew by heart, so I can write it down and leave.
HENRY: You want the story? Fine: it was a Tuesday. I was young. Definitely five or six or seven maybe. There was an argument going on between your grandmother Betsy and my mom, Aunt Catherine. Or was her cousin Judith, yes her, the one who was your sister. But most likely in all actuality, it was my uncle Anthony, the short round one. Anyhoo, I was out in the yard playing make believe 'cos it was Wednesday.
WILLIAM: Wednesday or Tuesday?
HENRY: That's right. And I swear as strong as the sun is shining east, I hear your grandma scream at the top of her lungs: I'm a LIAR, a next-to-nothing LIAR! I can't sew, I can't read. I love juggling and pottery!

(Beat)

WILLIAM: Thanks for nothing Henry.
HENRY: You betchya. Screaming crazy Betsy Ross. There's your proof or your money back.
WILLIAM: I'll remember to quote you in court when the suited cynics are breathing down my neck. It'll come in handy.
HENRY: I wasn't there, okay. I mean I was, but I wasn't.
WILLIAM: Do old people not have eardrums? Can they not hear themselves and their constant contradictions?
HENRY: The civil war was civil. Anyone who says otherwise should be drawn and quartered. Anyhoo -
WILLIAM: Anyhoo is right.
HENRY: Hmm? You've lost me. Anyhoo?
WILLIAM: You can't lose the lost. If you'll excuse me, I have to catch a train to Albany.
HENRY: Tell Martha I say hello. Hope your school project turns out decent. I'm sure you'll get an A.
WILLIAM: I'm twenty-seven years old in two weeks.
HENRY: Twenty-seven? Geesh, well, aim for a hundred next time. The teacher will forgive and forget.
WILLIAM: Yes, the teacher... I should be going.
HENRY: I'll probably die before I see you next. Or not. So anyhoo, thanks for the company.
WILLIAM: Can I have my pen please?
HENRY: I gotta sign that affidavit if it's to hold up in court. I've seen a thing or two.
WILLIAM: Of course you have. Here you are.

(He tears a blank piece of paper from his book. HENRY signs it.)

HENRY: Knock 'em dead! Tell him Henry A. sent you!
WILLIAM: A great uncle once removed. That's for certain.

(WILLIAM rushes out of the room.)

HENRY: (suddenly full of passion:) You want the truth!? You want the truth??? You can't handle the Truth!

(Silence. He relaxes again.)

HENRY: Unexplained and bizarre event of my life number 43,209. That's gotta be a record.

WEIRD BLACKOUT FOR A WEIRD PLAY

#29: REALITY CHECK

(The PLAYWRIGHT and BETSY stand on a large empty stage.)

PLAYWRIGHT: I overestimated my will power, I understimated my free time, and I just don't think I can do this every day.

BETSY: You need to calm down. You're only human.

(pause.)

PLAYWRIGHT: Wrong on both accounts.

(The PLAYWRIGHT's massive dragon wings and dragon tail break through his human clothing. He screams the high-pitched scream of an eight year old girl who is determined to shatter glass. A car alarm sounds. The PLAYDRAGON flies effortlessly over the audience and out the lobby door narrowly missing a frightened house manager. Somewhere a baby cires. BETSY is confused.)

BETSY: Deja Vu.

BLACKOUT

#28: PENGUINS VS. BABY ELEPHANTS

(An audience enters a theater. They sit down and open their programs. Inside, there is a note from the PLAYWRIGHT and nothing else.)

"Dear Audience Member(s):

Penguins versus Baby Elephants.

I wrote this title as a space filler to make it look like I was going to write a play on Friday March 7th, 2008. The title represents a silly but ongoing debate that I've been having with two high school friends for a few years now. After I went out to dinner for chimichangas and over-priced margaritas with these good friends, I returned home with the intent to write a play about Betsy Ross. I had a title that I posted hours before, but no play and no plot. Perhaps I would flesh out Betsy's opinions on the penguin vs. elephant debate - or even better (!) put her on the newly formed board of directors of a colonial zoo that is debating which animals to collect for its inaugural zoo collection. Betsy would probably get mad at someone for no reason and release a tiger on his or her ass!

I could have, I could have, but I didn't.

Instead, I chose sleep. (gasp) I never wrote the play. I awoke refreshed on Sat. 3/8 determined to write the missing play and ready to write a new one, but I got lazy and am dealing with this whole mess today, Monday 3/10.

ALSO, I don't care what anyone says: a Baby Elephant would be a horrible and smelly choice for a pet. CLEARLY, if forced to domesticate, raise, and live with either a penguin or a baby elephant, a majority of the free world would side with me and choose the penguin. They may be flightless and dress in "mini-tuxedos" (two "great" "arguments" against me from my competition in this debate), but no, no, and not at all. Penguins would make awesome companions. Baby elephants have nothing to offer the world but poo and the harsh reality that they will inevitably grow up to become actual adult elephants. Anyone who thinks a pet baby elephant would act like Disney's Dumbo is dead wrong. Dead wrong.

What a horrible pet a baby elephant would be. Sorry Laura, you're just wrong.

- PLAYWRIGHT"

(The audience is confused about this note and worried about the PLAYWRIGHT; they wonder who the hell Laura is. Then they stop caring. Each member of the audience is distracted by some trivial and unrelated thought. Maybe yesterday's news or a sudden craving for a Twix bar. They exit the theater in turn. They throw their programs in the trash bins in the lobby. BETSY is hidden somewhere eating a chimichanga. We can't see her, but we know she's there.)

BLACKOUT

#27: A CONVERSATION WITH PAUL BUNYAN

(The upper branches of the tallest tree. The fingers of the giant right hand of PAUL BUNYAN are firmly wrapped around BETSY. PAUL places her onto a sturdy tree limb. A flock of birds flees the tree; this startles BETSY. PAUL BUNYAN squats and his giant face stares face-to-face with BETSY's. He speaks with a low, deflated voice.)

BETSY: Sorry about that. Where were we?

PAUL B: You were saying that you thought I was unqualified.

BETSY: Right.

PAUL B: Unsuited for this job.

BETSY: Yes, about that. We're looking for someone whose heart lies in the details of the craft. You're just so, well, forgive me: large.

PAUL B: You invited me here to have a conversation. I didn't think it was going to be an actual interview. I would have prepared!

BETSY: Forsight is the keystone of upholstery.

PAUL B: I threw together a resume while you were on the ground.

BETSY: I'll give it a look-see. Since you did make such a long trip down here. I suppose it won't hurt me.

PAUL B: Thank you.

(PAUL hands BETSY a huge piece of paper with ease. She struggles to hold it. Its weight and size overpower her and she topples down to a lower branch.)

BETSY: Ow!

PAUL B: Oopsies.

BETSY: No worries. It happens to everyone...

(BETSY stands up and examines the resume.)

BETSY: So Paul, care to explain to me how any of these "accomplishments" make you in any way qualified for this line of work?

PAUL B: Well, um. Inadvertently making ten thousand lakes was kinda cool. It taught me about nature I guess. And being a good team player and goal-setting. And recessing -

BETSY: Surpassing.

PAUL B: - those goals. Whatever.

BETSY: I think this about concludes our conversation.

PAUL B: Interview, just admit it!

BETSY: We come from different worlds.

PAUL B: I like plaid. That's upholstery right?

BETSY: Right... well, I don't wish to keep you from your buffalo.

PAUL B: Ox.

BETSY: Whatever.

PAUL B: I could be a huge asset to your business. A HUGE asset.

BETSY: This I know. You'll have to excuse me. I have another appointment.

PAUL B: I'm sure that regular-sized non-freak will be perfect for the job.

BETSY: Now, Paul -

PAUL B: Thanks for nothing!

(PAUL angrily walks the walk of a giant. He is gone. BETSY assesses her situation and begins to cautiously climb down the tree. A squirrel throws an acorn at her.)

BLACKOUT

#26: NORTHWARD HO!

(BETSY has fallen asleep on a makeshift bench on a dirt road just outside of Philadelphia. She clutches two small suitcases and is sleeping soundly. An OFFICER approaches her.)

OFFICER: Yet another one. Miss, MISS. Wake up.
BETSY: (in her sleep) Let me see... they all smell so good...
OFFICER: Wake up, Miss.
BETSY: (in her sleep) I'll have the strudel this time...
OFFICER: Miss, you need to wake up -

(The OFFICER goes to shake her awake. She snaps to life just before he makes contact.)

BETSY: Wha, who, oh!
OFFICER: You were asleep miss. On this bench.
BETSY: So I was. Not anymore. Thank you for your help officer.
OFFICER: My my my, how long were you out for? You were dreaming deep about pasteries or something.
BETSY: I, I don't know. Well, what time is it now?
OFFICER: Let me see. It was one p.m. when I got to McCarthy's. I spent awhile there because it's Saturday and we always get slippy on Saturdays. That puts it at half past five p.m. when I left McCarthy's. And that was a solid two hours ago.
BETSY: Half past five - two hours ago?!?
OFFICER: Probably puts it at about seven p.m. No, seven thirty p.m. right now. Something like that. Feels right to me. Sun's setting.
BETSY: I've been stood up!
OFFICER: Now who would stand such a pretty sight up?
BETSY: My stupid brother.
OFFICER: Oh! (Beat.) Oh I see. Well, to each his own. Or her own as the case may be. How long have you two been open about this?
BETSY: Open about - Gross! He's my brother
OFFICER: I see this all the time. No need to be ashamed. He'll come to his senses and take you back.
BETSY: (Spelling it out clearly.) I was waiting on this bench for my brother and his wife to pick me up. We are spending the week in New York.
OFFICER: Oh! (Beat.) Oh I see. Well, that's now a new one, but pretty darn exciting. Good for you three to have found one another.
BETSY: Look, the last time I checked it wasn't illegal to be sitting on a bench, so if you'll excuse me, I am going to sit some more until they show up.
OFFICER: About that. It actually is illegal now. This is a public road. You've been inactive. So that's loitering. It's the newest law as of about half past three yesterday.
BETSY: Loitering?
OFFICER: Loitering. Fact: people standing still get into trouble. We're done with trouble in this city.
BETSY: For your information, I'm very well connected here. I'm going to have a few words about this "law" when I'm back from New York.
OFFICER: By all means, feel free to. But in the meantime, I'm under strict orders to take all necessary action to deal with any loiterers.
BETSY: Is waiting for an overdue carriage a crime?
OFFICER: Sounds like a question a loiterer would ask, doesn't it?
BETSY: What? Look, I may be at the wrong bench, I will try the one further down the road in case they're waiting there.
OFFICER: Two counts of loitering if you do that. We'll be talking jail time.
BETSY: If you persist with this I will see to it that I write a series of strong letters to the right people that will leave you without job by month's end. We don't want that now, now do we?
OFFICER: No we don't. (He takes out a large book and a pen with ink. He writes.) One count of loitering. One count of plotting to loiter. And one count of threatening an officer. Three counts at seven thirty p.m. Perhaps seven twenty-five.
BETSY: Did Hamilton put you up to this?
OFFICER: We are required to keep a written record for when it goes to trial.
BETSY: While you're at it, don't forget about the bank I robbed last Tuesday, or the church I lit ablaze.
OFFICER: (He is writing furiously.) How do you spell ablaze?

(We hear the sounds of a horse-driven carriage rapidly approaching from offstage. BETSY collects her belongings and looks with great anticipation in the direction of the noise.)

OFFICER: So we're looking at five separate charges here. Two of which are accompanied by documented confessions. Please sign here.
BETSY: I'll be in New York buying Dutch shoes and eating fine foods. Feel free to send the state militia after me.

(The carriage enters and stops. BETSY jumps inside. It quickly exits. A cloud of hoof-induced dirt hangs in the air.)

OFFICER: (writing in his book) Charge number six. Fleeing the scene of a crime. (He closes the book and packs up.) She'll soon be America's most wanted. (Beat.) If only I knew her name....

BLACKOUT