===================================================================== THE TROUBLE WITH THINGS THAT CAN'T DIE ===================================================================== a one-act play by Craig J. Clark (cjclark@earthlink.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "The Thing That Couldn't Die" ===================================================================== [Lights up on an upscale restaurant. The severed head of JAN COMPTON -- a.k.a. JAN IN THE PAN from "The Brain/Head That Wouldn't Die" -- is in her pan on the table at center. There is a menu lying flat on the table in front of her and a long tablecloth to hide the fact that JAN is not actually being played by a bodiless actress. After a few seconds, a WAITER approaches the table.] WAITER: Good evening, madame. Can I get you something to drink while you look at the menu or would like to order now? JAN: Actually, I'm waiting for somebody. WAITER: Very well. I shall come back. [The WAITER leaves.] JAN: Wait, waiter! Damn, I should have asked him for the time. Oh, I wish I had arms so I could wear a watch and be able to look at it to see what time it is. Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm sure I'm being stood up. Word probably got around to the poor sap that he was going out with a bodiless woman. I swear, this is the last blind date I'll ever go on. [She looks down and strains to read the menu, but is having trouble.] JAN: Uh, waiter? [After a few seconds, the MAITRE D' enters, leading MIKE, the big dumb farmhand from the movie -- who is nevertheless dressed in a tux -- over to the table. He is carrying the old copper chest that contained GIDEON DREW's head. He sets it down on the table and, after giving the actor playing GIDEON enough time to stick his head up through the hole in the table, he opens the chest. He then then takes a step back and folds his arms behind him, waiting to be called upon to do something else. Anyway...] GIDEON: Ah! Miss Compton, I presume? JAN: You presume correctly. Are you Mr. Drew? GIDEON: Yes, I am. I hope we're not too late. JAN: Well, I have no way of knowing, so I guess it doesn't matter. [They both laugh.] JAN: Did you have any trouble finding the restaurant, Mr. Drew? GIDEON: Please, call my Gideon. JAN: All right. And you may call me Jan. GIDEON: Very well. And no, we didn't have any problems. Your directions were impeccable. JAN: Who's that with you? GIDEON: Oh, don't mind Mike. He's just some big, dumb farmhand I control. He's so useful to have around. Don't you have somebody to...look after you? JAN: Well, my husband used to, but then he was killed by one of his mutant creations, partly at my instigation. GIDEON: I see. So, who took care of you after that? JAN: Umm... [spies the passing WAITER] Oh, waiter! [The WAITER comes over to the table.] WAITER: Are you ready to order now? JAN: No, but I would like some water, please. GIDEON: Oh, yes. Me, too. I'm parched. [The WAITER starts to leave.] JAN: Wait! Could you also stand our menus up? I know mine is difficult enough to read. [to GIDEON] What about yours? GIDEON: Mike can take care of that for me. WAITER: So, just you, then? JAN: I guess. [The WAITER stands JAN's menu up, effectively blocking her from the audience. MIKE comes forward and holds GIDEON's up for him. The WAITER leaves.] GIDEON: What an interesting selection. Pickled pigs feet, chicken fingers, artichoke hearts... JAN: Mmm, the frogs legs look good. So what do you do? GIDEON: I worship the devil mostly. I was with Sir Francis Drake and was beheaded by his crew when they found out about it. JAN: That must have been awful. GIDEON: The beheading part wasn't so bad. It was the waiting around for four centuries for somebody to dig me up -- that was the worst part of the whole ordeal. There I was, my disembodied head, alive in a box. [pause] Do you ever think of yourself as actually dead, lying in a box with a lid on it? JAN: No. GIDEON: Neither do I, really... It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean one thinks of it like being alive in a box, one keeps forgetting to take into account the fact that one is dead... which should make all the difference...shouldn't it? I mean, you'd never know that you were in a box, would you? It would be just like being asleep in a box. Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you, not without any air -- you'd wake up dead for a start, and then where would you be? In a box. That's the bit I don't like frankly. That's why I don't think of it. [pause, looks at menu again] Anyway, I think I know what I want. JAN: You mean besides a body? [They both laugh. MIKE puts down the menu and goes back to standing behind GIDEON. The WAITER, meanwhile, arrives with their waters and sets them down.] JAN: Oh, is that our water? Could you pour that in my pan, please? Thank you. [The WAITER pours JAN's water into her pan.] WAITER: Are you ready to order now? JAN: Yes. I would like the leg of lamb. GIDEON: You changed your mind? JAN: No, I changed my leg. [They both laugh.] WAITER: And for you, sir? GIDEON: I'll have the chicken breast. WAITER: Excellent. Anything else to drink? JAN: The water's fine. GIDEON: Er, I could use a straw, preferably one of those bendy ones. WAITER: Coming right up. [He leaves and takes their menus, giving us a clear view of JAN once again. There is an uncomfortable pause.] GIDEON: So, how did your head become separated from your body? JAN: Oh, I was in a car crash. My husband was driving at the time and -- feeling somewhat responsible for my decapitation -- he stuffed my head in a bag and carried it to his lab, where he set me up in this nifty pan contraption to keep me alive. GIDEON: Yes, that seems so much more comfortable than this stuffy old box. Then again, I don't have the same need for liquid to keep me going. My living death stems from my pact with the devil and the desire to be reattached to my body. JAN: Yes, unfortunately I don't have that sort of drive. Mostly I just want to die. [The waiter arrives with GIDEON's straw, which he places in the glass and moves so that GIDEON can reach it with his mouth.] GIDEON: Ah, that's great. Thank you very much. [The WAITER leaves. GIDEON takes a big, long sip of the water, emptying the glass.] JAN: Wait. I thought you said you didn't need liquid. GIDEON: I don't. It just goes right through me. [There is, in fact, a water stain spreading out from under the box.] GIDEON: See? JAN: Yes, I do. GIDEON: Actually, I thirst for human blood, but none of the samples in this restaurant will do. [Suddenly, JESSICA BURNS -- young, dumb-as-rocks psychic water witch -- enters, being lead by a dowsing rod. She passes near JAN and GIDEON's table and pauses.] JESSICA: That's funny. I could have sworn there was water here, but it's gone now. Now there's something evil here. [turns and sees GIDEON] Oh, my God! Get it out of here! It's evil! Evil! [Nobody moves.] JESSICA: You're all horrible. I hope you all die! [She runs out. JAN gives GIDEON a sidelong glance.] JAN: Friend of yours? GIDEON: Hardly. You know, you never really answered my question earlier. Who took care of you after your husband was ripped apart? JAN: Oh, there have been a few...people. No one serious. GIDEON: Ah, that's good. I'd hate to think that I have competition. JAN: Oh, believe me. You're head and shoulders above the rest. [Before GIDEON can react, DR. CARL HILL -- professor at Miskatonic University -- enters. Or, rather, his body enters, carrying his head in his hands. The head has to talk, however, which will have to be a neat trick. To achieve this, DR. HILL can be played by a midget wearing a fake torso on his back with arms that look like they're holding his head in place. Of course, this would mean that DR. HILL has extremely short legs, but I won't worry about that if you don't. Anyway, DR. HILL stalks over to the table.] DR. HILL: Jan! JAN: Carl! What are you doing here? DR. HILL: I'd like to ask you the same question! And who is this cad? JAN: It's none of your business who this cad is. We broke up two weeks ago, remember? DR. HILL: I know, but I still love you and I'll do anything to win you back. JAN: But I don't want you to win me back. GIDEON: Don't worry, Jan. I can handle this. Mike? [MIKE steps forward and engages DR. HILL in hand-to-hand combat. Actually, I suppose that would be more like hand-to-face combat since DR. HILL's hands are already occupied and they can't let go of his head or else it would fall. No matter, because the scuffle manages to take them offstage. Now it's GIDEON's turn to give JAN sidelong glance.] GIDEON: Well, I hope we won't have any more surprises. Who's going to show up next, the headless horseman? JAN: Oh, you silly. [The WAITER enters, carrying a tray with a cover on it.] JAN: Oh, look! Our meals have arrived. [The WAITER sets the tray down on the table between JAN and GIDEON.] WAITER: Not quite, madame. A gentleman asked me to bring this to you. GIDEON: A gentleman? JAN: Who? [The WAITER removes the cover with a flourish, revealing the partially decomposed head of a MEXICAN. It nevertheless speaks.] MEXICAN: Senorita, I love you! Forget about this greasy Spaniard and make a run for the border with me! JAN: Oh, no! GIDEON: What? Who is this scoundrel? JAN: It's the head of Alfredo Garcia! [Blackout.] T H E E N D ===================================================================== THE MST3K ONE-ACT PLAYS BY CRAIG J. CLARK ===================================================================== [801] Return of the Creature [802] Boy, Am I Gland to See You [803] How to Irritate Mole People [804] Kiss Me Deadly Mantis [814] Riding with Death on Long Island [815] Re-Animation Agent for H.A.R.M. [816/906] The Prince of Space Children [817] The Mild Apprehension of Party Beach [818] Touched by a Devil Doll [901] The Alan Parsons Projected Man [902] Phantom Planet, Schmanet or: The Next-to-the-Last of the Dogmen [903] Strong Enough for a Puma Man... [904] Where Wolf? There Wolf! [905] The Deadly B-Sides [907] Hobgoblins 2: The Grue Batch [908] Analyze What? or: The Bad Touch of Satan You can read these one-act plays and more at http://home.earthlink.net/~cjclark/mstplays.htm