===================================================================== THE YEAR MY EARTH FROZE ===================================================================== a one-act play by Joe Blevins (joeblev@concentric.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "The Day the Earth Froze" ===================================================================== [Lights up. Curtain rises. The setting is the kitchen of a 1950s suburban home. There are all the modern mid-century conveniences -- an oven, a range, a refrigerator, a blender, a toaster. There's a raging blizzard outside, suggested by some soap flakes fluttering down from above.] [The phone rings. We hear the voices of a man and a woman from offstage. They are LEMMANKINAN and ANNAKIE. Lemmankinen speaks in the deep, sonorous voice of a fairy tale hero. Annakie's voice is high-pitched and almost musical, as befits a fairy tale heroine.] ANNAKIE'S VOICE: Oh, Lemmankinan, my dearest, I think I hear the phone ringing. Would you be so kind as to answer it? LEMMANKINAN'S VOICE: Certainly, Annakie, love of my life. I would be more than happy to. [We hear the voice of an offstage CHORUS, singing merrily.] CHORUS: He's walking into the kitchen! Lemmankinan's answering the phone! He's so brave and valiant! We'd sure like to be his friends! [Lemmankinan enters, dressed in the clothes of a 19th century Finnish peasant. You know how 19th century Finnish peasants dress, right? Yeah, like that. Lemmankinan picks up the phone.] LEMMANKINAN: Hello. CHORUS: [singing] He picked up the receiver! Lemmankinan said hello! He's so tall and handsome! We're not fit to lick his boots! LEMMANKINAN: [to chorus] Uh, could you guys cut that out? I'm kinda on the phone here. CHORUS: [singing] We will now stop singing! Lemmankinan told us to stop! His hair smells like potatoes! And his eyes are like radish rosettes! LEMMANKINAN: [on phone] Yes, this is Lemmankinan. [pause] Mm-hmm. [pause] Yes, she's here. [pause] I'll see if she's available. [calling] Annakie, my little tulip? [Lemmankinan puts the phone down on the counter.] ANNAKIE'S VOICE: What is it, my dearest Lemmankinan? LEMMANKINAN: There's a phone call for you, my snowflake. ANNAKIE'S VOICE: Who is it, my valiant Finnish tree-cutting-down type person? LEMMANKINAN: It's the North Wind. He wants to know if you're free to go shopping on Wednesday. ANNAKIE'S VOICE: Oh, not the North Wind. I've been ducking him for the last two weeks. Can't that airstream take a hint? LEMMANKINAN: Well, what should I tell him? ANNAKIE'S VOICE: I don't know. Make up something. Be creative. LEMMANKINAN: Gosh, I'm not very good at this kind of thing. What do you think, O Wise and All-Knowing Blender? [A spotlight hits the BLENDER. Its lid open and closes like a mouth. We hear the blender's strained, scratchy voice.] BLENDER: I cannot help you, Lemmankinan, for I am merely a blender. Blending food into a liquid form is all I do. LEMMANKINAN: Oh, I see. BLENDER: [droning on] Pity me, Lemmankinan. Each day I must mix your sport shakes and Annakie's margaritas, and my blades become gummy with residue. Sad, sad, sad is the life of a blender. [The spotlight moves over to the REFRIGERATOR. Its door opens and closes. The fridge "speaks" in the voice of a nagging mother.] REFRIGERATOR: Ha! What do you know of sadness, foolish blender? Pity me, the poor refrigerator! People keep their smelly leftovers in me, and my box of baking soda has not been changed in many, many years. And sometimes people leave my door open for several minutes deciding what to eat. And now my little lightbulb grows dimmer and dimmer with each opening of the door. LEMMANKINAN: Uh, look, this is fascinating and all, but... [The spotlight now moves to the TOASTER. Two slices of toast kind of wobble around, indicating life. The toaster has a pinched, nasal, adenoidal voice.] TOASTER: What about me, the humble toaster? Does no one know of my hardship? Lemmankinan toasts his awful-tasting whole wheat bread in me and never cleans the crumbs out. [The spotlight now switches to the OVEN, whose door opens and closes. Its voice is shrill and whining.] OVEN: Listen, toaster, you should try being an oven for a day, and then get back to me. You think I like cooking Annakie's wretched herring casseroles? LEMMANKINAN: Stop it, all of you! [to phone] Uh, listen, North Wind, Annakie can't go shopping with you on Wednesday. [pause] Uh, she's attending a, uh... a bar mitzvah. Maybe some other time. [pause] Yeah, sure. [pause] Right. Uh-huh. [pause] You, too. 'Bye now. [He hangs up the phone. A pause.] TOASTER: [scoffing] Bar mitzvah? [All the appliances break into mocking laughter.] LEMMANKINAN: Oh, come on. It was all I could think of. [The laughter continues.] CHORUS: [singing] He's a big, fat liar! Lemmankinan told a fib! Now we can no long trust him! And his clothing shall carry the stench of shame! LEMMANKINAN: Oh, shut up! CHORUS: [singing] We'll pretend that we can't hear you! Our ears are deaf to your words! We'll deny your very existence! The Lemmankinan we once knew is dead! LEMMANKINAN: That's it. I've had it. I'm going to the can. [He exits. We hear a low, somewhat slurred male VOICE from offstage. This the voice of the... uh, well, you know.] LOW VOICE: Oh, hello, Lemmankinan. Beautiful day today, isn't it? LEMMANKINAN'S VOICE: [not interested] Yeah, yeah. LOW VOICE: What service do you require from me today? [pause] Hey! What are you doing? [pause] Oh my god! That's disgusting! [pause] Stop that! No! [screams] [The other appliances emit groans of disgust.] BLENDER: Now THAT guy has a tough job. OVEN: It makes you appreciate being a kitchen appliance, huh? REFRIGERATOR: You got that right! [Lights dim. Curtain falls.] [THE END]