Monkey Feces, Monkey Doo-Doo

By Arlen Lawson

Who returns, now, to sketch comedy, so that we may all see why he left it (319)354-9374

 

   Lights up!!!  Jamal and Arlen sit on the stage.  Jamal is mid-joke.  What’s he saying?  Let’s see if we can find out.

 

Jamal: And so I say, “Well, Your Honor, that depends on your definition of ‘sexual assault.’”

 

   They share a good laugh.

 

Arlen: I’ll say.  That’s funny.

 

Jamal: Yeah.  (Beat)  But, I’m very scared.

 

    Enter Neil, stage right.

 

Neil: (addressing audience)  Monkey see.  Monkey Do.  An act in two parts!  Part one:  Monkey see!

 

   Exit Neil.

 

Arlen:  Hmmm.  Say, Jamal.  It would be safe of me to say that you were my friend, right?

 

Jamal: Well, how do you mean, Arlen?

 

Arlen:  Well, like, you would say that we have regular sexual intercourse.

 

Jamal:  Regular?

 

Arlen:  Well, not regular like normal…

 

Jamal:  Hold that thought.  (pointing offstage left)  Do you see that?

 

Arlen: Well, what do you know?  I guess that sort of depresses me.

 

Jamal:  That old lady sure is getting beat up.

 

Arlen:  We should do something, probably.

 

Jamal: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

 

Arlen: If what you’re thinking is “Monkey See, Monkey Do,” then you bet I am!

 

   Exeunt Jamal and Arlen.  Enter Neil.

 

Neil:  And now a part in two acts.  There will be no intermission.

 

Jamal: (as Old Lady)  Oh!  I am an old lady!  And I am getting beat up!

 

Arlen:  Ha!  Ha!  You sure are!

 

Neil:  Part II.  Monkey do.

 

   Enter Arlen and Chris, laughing.  Chris has taken the role away from Jamal.  Neil remains onstage, or, if he has wandered offstage on account of not looking ahead in his script, he now bursts back onstage and waits.

 

Arlen:  Wow, Jamal, that old lady sure got beat up!  And dead!

 

Chris:  You said it, Arlen!

 

Neil:  Monkey See.

 

Chris:  But now I feel all hollow inside.  And scared of God.

 

Neil: Monkey Do.

 

Arlen:  This one time I was driving around the neighborhood I used to live in when I was a kid, because I wanted to see if I could remember what it was like to be alive, and I saw this kid who looked around seven running around with a kite, trying to get the thing off the ground, but he can’t do it, so I pull up to him, open the passenger door, and I say, “Hey, Kid, if you want to try something cool, hop in,” and, of course, he hopped right in, because he thought I was going to force him to perform fellatio on me.  But that’s not what I wanted.  My intentions were completely altruistic.  I told him to roll down his window and hang on tight to the kite string and we took off and that kite started soaring up, rippling hard and sonically.  And the kid is thrilled, right.  So I can’t just stop now.  I’d been fully intending to stop once the kite got airborne, but if you see the look on this kid’s face, you know you got to keep going.

   So I drove around a bit, ‘til I notice that the kid is holding on so tight his knuckles are white.  And I said, “Hey, Kid, you want me to slow down.”  And he just shakes his head, shakes his tightly closed eyes, and holds on tighter.  And it must have been then when the kite got caught in the power lines, ‘cause that was when the kid got torn right out of the car through the window.  It looked like he jumped up and flew out of my window, so of course I’m startled and I don’t put any of this shit I’m telling you now together until I turn around and see what he’s connected to and why.

   I turned around just in time to see him hit the ground… hard.  I couldn’t see him very clearly - thank God - but he looked pretty dead to me.  And I just kept on driving.

 

Lights Down