===================================================================== STRONG ENOUGH FOR A PUMA MAN... ===================================================================== a one-act play by Craig J. Clark (cjclark@earthlink.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "Puma Man" ===================================================================== [Lights up on a mostly empty stage. To stage left is a table with the silly gold Aztec mask on it, as well as a number of knobs and controls. KOBRAS -- the bad guy from the inexplicable movie "Puma Man" -- is standing in front of it. Standing to stage right is the equally inexplicable Puma Man himself, TONY. He is dressed in the same stupid outfit and short cape, and KOBRAS is in his black leather thingy.] KOBRAS: Well, now you know how I managed to survive that helicopter crash and got hold of another Aztec mask. TONY: _And_ how you gained control of my mind once again. KOBRAS: Yes. Well, that wasn't too difficult. You see, with that hulking Aztec out of the picture, you were simply ripe for the picking, Pyuma Man. TONY: Actually, it's _Puma_ Man. KOBRAS: What did you say? [KOBRAS moves behind the mask.] TONY: Nothing! It was nothing! Really! You don't have to-- [But he is already doing it. We hear the sound effect of KOBRAS scrunching up TONY's face with the mask. TONY writhes in agony.] KOBRAS: [menacing-like] Now, what was that again? TONY: Errr, it's Pyuma Man. Pyuma. [The sound intensifies. TONY sinks to his knees.] TONY: PYUUUUUMA! [The sound ceases as KOBRAS steps out from behind the mask.] KOBRAS: Thank you. You may leave now. [TONY stands up and limps out.] TONY: [muttering under his breath] I knew I should have stayed dead when I had the chance. [He exits. KOBRAS goes to the table and presses a button.] KOBRAS: Send the next subject in. INTERCOM VOICE: Right away, sir. [KOBRAS smiles and in walks a "Kids in the Hall"-era MARK McKINNEY. He wears ratty clothing and carries a folding chair, which he opens up and sets down on the floor.] KOBRAS: I didn't say you could have a seat. MARK: Yes, well I didn't say you could have an unflattened head, so I guess that means we're even. [He sits down in the chair and holds up his hand, flexing his fingers. KOBRAS paces around the room, bemused.] KOBRAS: Why did you come here? MARK: I have heard that you crush people's heads. Is this true? KOBRAS: In a manner of speaking, yes. My goal is to control people, and one of side effects of the mechanism I use is that their heads do get...crushed. Do you have a problem with that? MARK: Oh, no. I don't have a problem with that...EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT YOU STOLE IT FROM ME! KOBRAS: You? MARK: Yes, I have been crushing people's heads for many years now. Of course, you are not the first to challenge my head-crushing authority, and probably won't be the last. KOBRAS: And just what do you intend to...do about me? MARK: Why, I intend to CRUSH YOUR HEAD! KOBRAS: And I intend to control your mind. Shall we say...to the death? MARK: May the best man not have his head flattened! [MARK moves his hand into head-crushing position, but KOBRAS ducks behind the mask.] MARK: Oh, you're a crafty one, you are. KOBRAS: I always prefer to strike first. [KOBRAS frantically presses buttons. Sound effect of the mask doing its thing.] KOBRAS: You will do my bidding. You will do my bidding. [MARK looks around, but is largely unaffected. KOBRAS is nonplussed. The mask sound effect ceases.] MARK: I don't think so, you silly little man. Now it's my turn. I am crushing your-- [He tries, but is unable to crush KOBRAS' head. He puts his hand down.] MARK: Oh, it appears I cannot crush your head while you are hiding behind that silly little mask. Well, that's easy to fix. [He raises his hand again and does the quick snapping motion.] MARK: I am crushing your mask. I am crushing your mask. I am crushing your mask. [KOBRAS watches in horror as his mask folds under the pressure of MARK's assault. KOBRAS staggers backward.] KOBRAS: What have you done? MARK: The same thing I am about to do to you. Prepare to become a flathead! KOBRAS: That was a priceless artifact. MARK: Well, now it's garbage. [He places his fingers in position to crush KOBRAS's head.] KOBRAS: Help! Help! Pyuma Man! Come quickly! [MARK spins the chair around as TONY enters. MARK goes to crush his head, but cannot.] MARK: No! His head has already been crushed! [KOBRAS takes a moment to laugh evilly.] KOBRAS: Yes, and he is under my control. Pyuma Man, kill this moron. [TONY makes a move toward MARK and then stops suddenly.] KOBRAS: Pyuma Man, do as I command. [TONY just stands there, hands on his hips.] TONY: No. Without your mask, you're powerless, Kobras. And I am free to go home to my vapid wife and make more Puma Men. I'm out of here. [He starts to leave. KOBRAS is livid.] KOBRAS: PYUMA MAN----!!! TONY: [at the door] Sorry, I only answer to Puma Man. [And he exits. Meanwhile, MARK has turned his chair around and is preparing to flatten KOBRAS's head again.] MARK: This will teach you to challenge me. [KOBRAS puts his hands on either side of his head and howls in pain.] KOBRAS: NO------!!!!! MARK: I'm crushing your head! I'm crushing your head! [He snaps his fingers together, effectively crushing KOBRAS's head.] MARK: There. Done. [He puts his hand down and immediately gets up, closing up his folding chair. KOBRAS is stunned, but largely unaffected.] KOBRAS: Wait, that was it? MARK: Yes. What did you expect? KOBRAS: You mean you don't control my mind now? MARK: Me? No. Besides, what would I want with the mind of a FLATHEAD? [MARK takes his chair and leaves. KOBRAS stands there, confused. He then remembers his mask and attempts to unfold it. It crumples like the gold foil it is.] KOBRAS: Oh, great. Now I have to find another one. [He presses a button on the control panel.] KOBRAS: Schedule another trip to Mexico. INTERCOM VOICE: Sorry, sir, but I don't answer to flatheads. KOBRAS: Oh, wonderful. [Blackout.] T H E E N D COMING SOON (in the funky order they're being broadcast on SCI FI): [905] The Deadly B-Sides [904] Where Wolf? There Wolf! [906] Jim Henson's Space Children Babies