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Play 10 min
| Question | Answer |
|---|---|
| DYLAN: (With certainty.) When they were drunk. | (Danielle enters. She has a packet of papers in one hand. She is dressed professionally, but she is very jittery and nervous.) DANIELLE: Hey guys. Cindy here? |
| BRIAN: (Calling over his shoulder.) Cindy! Your lawyer's here! | DANIELLE: (Instantly paranoid.) Shit! Do I really look like a lawyer? Shit! I need to look like a personnel coordinator! Shit! A lawyer? Shit! Really? Shit! |
| DYLAN: (To Danielle.) So, what's with the new look? Witness Relocation? | DANIELLE: I'm applying for a job. |
| DYLAN: [...] Learn from my mistakes, Danielle...I have permanent scars. Let this be a lesson...look on my twisted form and learn... | (Dylan starts to undo his pants.) DANIELLE: Dylan! |
| DYLAN: My life is nothing if not cautionary example. | DANIELLE: It's an office job! |
| DYLAN: No frozen yogurt? | DANIELLE: No! |
| DYLAN: Soft serve? | DANIELLE: Dylan! It's an office. |
| DYLAN: (Contemplative.) I see. (Pause.) So...no dessert or snack vending of any kind? | DANIELLE: (Emphatic.) It's an OFFICE! |
| BRIAN: (Offering.) I got my hand caught inside the VCR once. (Beat.) I got it out. | DANIELLE: (Frustrated, to Dylan.) Is...your sister...home!? |
| DYLAN: Shower. | (He points vaguely down the hallway. Much on her mind, Danielle exits in that direction.) |
| DYLAN: It's a gift. | (Cindy enters, bathrobe, towel, drying her hair. She is late and in a hurry. Danielle, like a small lap dog, is hot on her heels.) |
| fire me. Do you realize how difficult it is to get fired from a temp agency? | (Cindy brushes her hair in front of a mirror. She continues dressing and preparing throughout.) DANIELLE: I need your help! |
| CINDY: (Resigned.) Talk. | DANIELLE: They want me to answer this essay question... |
| CINDY: What's the question? | DANIELLE: ...And I don't think my answer is what they're looking for... |
| CINDY: What's the question? | DANIELLE: ...In fact, I'm sure it's not what they're looking for... |
| CINDY: What's the damn question?! | DANIELLE: Cindy. Did you ever go to church as a kid? |
| CINDY: That's the question? | DANIELLE: No. I'm asking. Did you ever go to church? |
| CINDY: Nope. My Sunday afternoons started with Abbot and Costello and ended with Godzilla. God bless Channel 11. Why? | DANIELLE: Just curious. |
| CINDY: Why do you ask, Danni? | DANIELLE: Sometimes I... (Unsure, but pushes ahead.) ...Well...there's this Baptist Church...in my neighborhood… and...sometimes I go and... I just...I sit outside and listen. |
| CINDY: To what? | DANIELLE: The singing. It's nice. |
| CINDY: Why don't you go in? | DANIELLE: I couldn't. I don't... I don't belong. |
| CINDY: (Stops. Looks at her.) Are you okay, Danni? | DANIELLE: They've got something. I can't put my finger on it, but... (Searching for words.) ...It's... I don't know. They've got— |
| CINDY: (Threatening them.) Don't make me turn this car around. | (Pause.) DANIELLE: They've got a past. |
| (Pause.) CINDY: How do you figure? | DANIELLE: A past. A history. They come from somewhere. |
| CINDY: Did we spontaneously self-generate, Master Yoda? | DANIELLE: It's different. It's something we don't have. It's a sense of... I don't know...community? |
| CINDY: What was college? | DANIELLE: Yeah, but don't you see? College pulls you out of one community, changes you, and forces you into a new one. Then, as soon as you get comfortable, that new community gets jerked out from under your feet after four years. |
| BRIAN: Six years. | DANIELLE: And where does that leave you? You're a different person now. You can't go backwards. You can't go back home. Because home isn't where you left it. It's different. [...] |
| CINDY: Never speak again. | DANIELLE: (Producing paper.) What's your earliest and fondest childhood memory? |
| CINDY: What? | DANIELLE: That's the question. "What's your earliest and fondest childhood memory and what impact do you think the experience has had on you as a person?" (Beat.) I need yours. Mine sucks. |
| CINDY: So what's your memory, Danni? | DANIELLE: I can't... |
| CINDY: Come on. | DANIELLE: It's totally wrong! |
| CINDY: What is it? | DANIELLE: Do you remember in the opening credits for Tom & Jerry? When Tom's sticking his tongue out? And the big bulldog pounds him on top of the head and makes him bite his tongue off? |
| CINDY: Yeah. (Danielle is quiet.) That's IT? That's your earliest, fondest memory? | DANIELLE: (Smiles.) Tom looks so embarrassed about it! |
| CINDY: I think that's probably on the big list of things NOT to write on a job application. | DANIELLE: Duh! (Beat.) But it's true. (Pause.) Cindy, when my mom was my age she was cooking huge Sunday dinners with her entire family...all the aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents...they all lived right there in the same neighborhood! [...] |
| CINDY: Isn't baklava Greek? | DANIELLE: See! (Beat.) Cindy, I'm half Italian, and I need help ordering spaghetti at the Olive Garden! |
| CINDY: (To Brian.) Don't make me come over there. | DANIELLE: So what do I do? I can't write down the truth. They'll think I'm four years old. I mean, I AM! I might as well be! I feel totally out of place going into an office! |
| CINDY: So you want my advice? | DANIELLE: YES! |
| CINDY: Lie. | DANIELLE: No shit! How? (Following her halfway.) I wanted to use yours, but cheeseburgers and...and...Fonzie's brain juice aren't on Fortune 500's big list of "do's" either! |
| (Cindy re-enters, dressed and ready. Bag in hand, she is out the door.) CINDY: I really wish I could be more help, sweetie, but if I don't leave right now, I'll be filling out job applications too. Relax. Be creative. Good luck. | (A quick peck on the cheek and Cindy is gone. A pause. Danielle stares at the door. Then, lets out a frustrated scream.) |
| DYLAN: Don't deny the island, Danni. | DANIELLE: What?! |
| BRIAN: (Serious.) Ow. | (Pause.) DANIELLE: (With a faint smile.) Yeah. |
| DYLAN: (Without breaking stride.) Doesn't matter. | (They're gone. Danielle, alone, sits thinking. Then takes up her pen and begins to write—with confidence. A smile creeps across her face. For the first time, she is relaxed. A weights been lifter!—more than the application.) {...} |
| (They're gone. Danielle, alone, sits thinking. Then takes up her pen and begins to write—with confidence. A smile creeps across her face. For the first time, she is relaxed. A weights been lifter!—more than the application.) | DANIELLE: (Laughing.) No way I'm getting this job. (Danielle keeps writing. Blackout.) |
| .they all lived right there in the same neighborhood![...] | Like their own little Sicilian embassy in the middle of Brooklyn! The food. The stories. That community. (Beat.) But then my mom moved away and got married...and I grew up in the suburbs. (Beat.) [...] |
| That community. (Beat.) But then my mom moved away and got married...and I grew up in the suburbs. (Beat.) | I was a kid eating Crunch Berries over Schoolhouse Rock at the same age when my mom and my great-great-great-grandmother were making... (Searching.) ... baklava![...] |
| I feel totally out of place going into an office! [...] | Like I've snuck in with my mom's blazer and my dad's briefcase. Petrified they're going to find me out! That they're gonna suddenly look up at me and say, "Silly rabbit! Jobs are for grownups!" |
| Because home isn't where you left it. It's different. [...] | You 're different. You don't really fit in anymore. You don't have anything to hang onto. It's like you're...I don't know… marooned. |
Created by:
Catst
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