Washed Up

A little one act play I wrote a few years ago. It was selected to be produced for a competition, but the production company wanted more of my time than I had to spare. Let me know if you'd like to produce it.

Washed Up
by
Scott Ennis

Phone (703) 994-9037
Email: scottennis@gmail.com


An actor suffering from a bad review of his Hamlet performance finds a skull on a beach and engages in a discussion of theatrical philosophy, ironically, with the skull, who turns out to be the actual Yorick, jester of Elsinore.

Shawn is a stage actor just coming off a bad review of his recent performance as Shakespeare’s Hamlet. He is probably on the cusp of being too old to play Hamlet.

Yorick is the skull of the actual Yorick, jester of Elsinore. Besides his time playing in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, he carries a dislike for thoughtless humanity, expressed through theater and his own being dropped from a ship into the Long Island Sound.

Note: Yorick should be an actual actor in complete black attire with head painted like a skull. Yorick skull would be best “picked up” by Shawn and “placed” on a box or table. Flowers may be retrieved offstage by Shawn.

__________

SHAWN picks up a skull from the beach.

SHAWN
Well, here’s irony after my shitty Hamlet reviews.

SHAWN holds up the skull and proceeds like an actor reciting lines.

SHAWN (CONT’D)
Yorick? No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be.

YORICK
Prufrock? Or Polonius?

SHAWN
(astounded)
How would Yorick know a poem by T. S. Eliot?

YORICK
I was in a troupe in the 60s that fucking worshiped Tommy.

SHAWN
The 60s? How long have you been doing theater?

YORICK
Pretty much since they dug me up to bury Ophelia. I started out as a simple candle holder until that dude from England wrote his version of that little shit, Hamlet. Then I got cast as myself. Tough role, hey?

SHAWN
You are Yorick.

YORICK
Yes, I am.

SHAWN
How'd you get here?

YORICK
Where's here?

SHAWN
Connecticut.

YORICK
Near New York?

SHAWN
Closer than Elsinore.

YORICK
I was supposed to be performing in New York.

SHAWN
I used to perform in New York. I just finished playing “that little shit, Hamlet.” What happened to you?

YORICK
Some dickhead on the ship took me up on the deck and tried reciting lines. Dropped me over the side. Too much to drink, probably. What about you?

SHAWN
The critics didn’t like my performance.

YORICK
Why not? Are you a dickhead too?

Shawn stares out at a cargo ship in the sound. He is lost in thoughts about his last performance.

YORICK
Hello? Anybody home?

SHAWN
Sorry. I'm just a little stunned.

YORICK
Wow. Stunned. And nobody even dropped you off a ship into the ocean.

SHAWN
I’m glad I smoked all that weed before coming here.

YORICK
Weed? I like weed.

Shawn pulls out a pipe, fills it with marijuana from a small bag, and takes a hit.

SHAWN
Yeah, but how are you gonna smoke it? You no longer have those lips that Hamlet kissed, how oft, we know
not.

YORICK
I have a shell that I use for a pipe. Clench it between my teeth.

SHAWN
Classy.

YORICK
What’s that supposed to mean?

SHAWN
It means you sound like a weed slut who would do anything for a hit.

YORICK
Including quoting some cheesy poem?

SHAWN
Pretty ballsy calling Eliot cheesy.

YORICK
Not Tommy. Just his poem.

SHAWN
So, the actor is the play, but the poet is not the poem?

YORICK
Whatever. Did you find my shell?

SHAWN
Didn’t look.

YORICK
So, that would be no?

SHAWN
Of course.

YORICK
How hard is it for you to just say yes or no?

SHAWN
I said no.

YORICK
No. You said, “didn’t look.”

SHAWN
Well that implies no.

YORICK
Kind of like asking for a hit implies that I can smoke it.

SHAWN
But you never asked.

YORICK
Yes I did.

SHAWN
No. All you said was, “I like weed.”

YORICK
Wasn’t the request for a hit implied?

SHAWN
Tell you what. Let’s hear what you’ve got. If the poet is the poem I’ll give you a hit.

YORICK
So, you want me to compose a poem requesting a hit of your weed?

SHAWN
Yeah.

YORICK
There once was a man from Nantucket

SHAWN
It has to be original.

YORICK
There once was a man with some ganja.

SHAWN
Good luck with that one. Nothing rhymes with ganja.

YORICK
Poems don’t have to rhyme.

SHAWN
True. Go ahead.

YORICK
That’s it. That’s my poem. When you give me a hit, the poet will be the poem.

SHAWN
Ok. Let me see if I can find that shell pipe.

YORICK
Or something of a similar pattern.

SHAWN
You make it all so enticing.

YORICK
Let’s break the expected pattern.

SHAWN
With the prosody of intellect. I’ll be Rosencrantz.

YORICK
And I will be Guildenstern.

SHAWN
Yes. We are not Prince Hamlet, nor were meant to be . . .

YORICK
To be, or not to be? That is the question.

SHAWN
Alas, poor questions, I knew them well.

YORICK
And who will declare that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead?

SHAWN
I think it’ll be Tom Stoppard.

YORICK
Fitting to have death declared by clowns, digging one up or dramatizing one’s breath.
(cough, cough)

SHAWN
Are you sick?

YORICK
Yes. My lungs are sick and spotted.

SHAWN
Ah, not a volta already.

YORICK
Out, out damned spot.

SHAWN
And next?

YORICK
Et tu, Rosencrantz?

SHAWN
Fitting. Any knife?

YORICK
Only the dagger I see before my eyes.

SHAWN
I deserved that.

YORICK
Let's go back to Elsinore. Let's go back to my grave.

SHAWN
Your grave? Isn't it Ophelia’s now?

YORICK
Exactly. She loved gathering flowers.

SHAWN
So you want to talk about flowers?

YORICK
Yes. Go pick some and bring them over here.

Shawn leaves the driftwood and walks back to some flowering bushes then returns with a handful of flowers.

SHAWN
(falsetto)
There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue for you; and here's some for me: we may call it herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died: they say he made a good end,--

SHAWN
(normal voice)
Just kidding. It’s all beach scrub.

YORICK
These flowers are like you.

SHAWN
How do you figure?

YORICK
Throw them out into the water.

Shawn stands and throws the flowers into the sound.

SHAWN
Okay, now what?

YORICK
Where are the flowers?

SHAWN
In the water.

YORICK
Really?

Shawn stands up and sees the flowers are back on the beach.

SHAWN
Ok. So the waves brought them back to the beach.

YORICK
Anything wrong with that?

SHAWN
No. That’s the normal course when you throw flowers into the ocean.

YORICK
Exactly. Nothing wrong with being washed up.

END

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