1837 N. Alexandria Ave.
L.A. CA 90027
EVAN ON EARTH
(THE TIME IS THE PRESENT, VERY LATE AT NIGHT. THE SETTING IS THE KITCHEN/DINING ROOM OF A SMALL, CLEAN, MANHATTAN APARTMENT. IT IS DARK EXCEPT FOR STREETLIGHT THROUGH OPEN VENETIAN BLINDS. THERE IS A DOORWAY TO A BEDROOM. THERE IS A TABLE WITH TWO FACING CHAIRS. ONE CAN REACH BEHIND ONE’S SELF FROM ONE CHAIR TO OPERATE THE BLINDS. THE TABLE HOLDS A LAMP, A COFFEE POT ON A TRIVET, AND A COUPLE OF CUPS. THERE IS A LIGHT SWITCH ON THE WALL.)
(AT RISE, A MATURE MAN SHUFFLES IN NAKED WITH A TOWEL AROUND HIS NECK, A BOOK IN ONE HAND, AND CIGARETTES AND LIGHTER IN THE OTHER. HE POURS COFFEE FROM A PROBABLY-COLD POT ON THE TABLE, SITS FACING THE WINDOW, TRIES TO READ, GETS UP, GOES TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TABLE WITH HIS BACK TO THE WINDOW, SITS, SEES THAT THE LIGHTING IS NOW SATISFACTORY FOR READING, PUTS HIS FEET UP, HEAVES A SIGH OF PERFECT CONTENTMENT, AND STARTS TO READ.)
MAN (Sniffs coffee): Ah, mother’s milk. (Takes sip, makes face) Yick. EVAN’s mother’s milk. (Sips and reads)
EVAN (Offstage): What are you DOING?
MAN: Nobody, Evan. (Lights a cigarette)
EVAN (Offstage):: Come back to BED!
MAN: If I come back to bed you’ll expect me to hump your rump you while you pump your stump. Go back to sleep.
EVAN (Offstage):: I can’t sleep with you IN THERE.
MAN: You make me sleep on the far side of the bed and you take all the covers. You can’t possibly miss me.
EVAN (Offstage):: Come back IN HERE.
MAN: You want me to sodom your bottom while you pull your pole?
EVAN (Offstage):: I want you to OBEY ME. I want you to COME IN HERE……Are you READING?
EVAN (Offstage):: It’s too LATE to read….WHAT are you reading?
MAN: Your diary.
EVAN (Offstage):: I don’t KEEP a diary! What are you READING?
MAN: Don’t worry, honey. I promise I’m not reading anything about AIDS.
EVAN (Offstage):: Don’t mention that WORD! …What ARE you reading?
MAN: Nothing by your stupid Stuart, either. Leave me alone.
EVAN (Offstage):: Stuart was a GOD.
MAN: Stuart was a two-bit whore.
EVAN (Offstage):: You’re a fucking hippie FAILURE. What are you REALLY doing?
MAN: Jerking off with the cheese grater.
EVAN (Offstage):: Are you SMOKING?
MAN: No. (Grinds cigarette out, throws it out window)
EVAN (Offstage):: Are you DRINKING COFFEE?
MAN: Don’t worry your petty little head about it.
EVAN (Offstage):: Don’t tell me what to DO. COME HERE.
MAN: You’ll wake the neighbors.
EVAN (Offstage):: What are you DOING? Can they SEE YOU?
MAN (Closes blinds without looking up from book): No, they can’t SEE me. They’re in Jamaica. (Turns on table lamp) They can HEAR you.
EVAN (Enters, ravishing, in the world’s whitest jockey shorts. Matter-of-factly): I hate you.
MAN: You adore me. I adore you.
EVAN: No, you don’t, I don’t let you…That’s unsanitary, sitting there NAKED!
MAN: How can you even form the word “unsanitary” after what we just did?
EVAN: That never happened.
MAN: Evan, I have blisters on my knees.
EVAN: It never happened because it meant nothing to me. I only let you because I pity you. I pity your pitiful dick.
MAN (Suiting actions to words, never taking his eyes off his book): So I’m wrapping and snapping your quaint middle-class gym-towel around me. One size fits all. I was sticking to the chair anyway.
EVAN: Lie. You don’t want me to see you get hard when you see me in my jockey shorts.
MAN (Opening blinds behind him without neglecting his book): In the moonlight.
EVAN (Frantically rushing to close blinds:) STOP THAT! Close those blinds!
MAN (Still reading, imitating EVAN): Anybody climbing the streetlight to take down the tennis shoes hung on it can SEE us!
EVAN (Standing behind MAN): I want those to stay closed! You’re crazy!….I never want to see you again.
MAN: According to you, you’re not going to after tomorrow……What’s your second wish?
EVAN: I haven’t decided for sure yet if I’m leaving……Come back to bed.
MAN: Only if you reverse those jockey shorts again so the flap is in the back.
EVAN (Smiling at the memory): I never did that. That would be sleazy and Bohemian, and I’m middle-class, so I don’t DO that.
MAN: Then curl up on the floor and sleep at my feet. It’ll be fetching.
EVAN: Don’t give me orders.
MAN: Better yet, go out and fetch me a corned-beef sandwich.
EVAN (Presses his crotch against back of MAN’s head): Shut up and die.
MAN: You keep that up and I’m going to lunge over this chair at you and we’ll both go out the window.
EVAN: We’ll probably fall on the whore and her customer down on the basement steps.
MAN: And crush them into those rusty mattress springs.
EVAN (Still nudging): And all of us just keep right on doing it.
MAN: And the paramedics will have to call in Stephen King to write the case description. QUIT THAT! (Swipes out behind him with book. EVAN jumps nimbly out of the way) Go make phone calls you can’t afford. I’m busy.
EVAN (Standing at the other side of the table): I thought you probably got up and came in here to wash more DISHES.
MAN: I weep that there are no more dishes to wash.
EVAN: I don’t want you washing any more dishes. I don’t want you cooking anymore. I don’t want to wake up and find a lot of BREAKFAST in here tomorrow. You’re supposed to be my big MAN and all you do is cook and wash dishes.
MAN: And pound you into the mattress like an Acme Safe pounding Wile E. Coyote into the asphalt.
EVAN: Oh, ha-ha, don’t make me laugh…….I don’t want you in the kitchen.
MAN: You did the other night when we, as your sticky Stuart would have described it, “loved on the linoleum.”
EVAN: Shut up. Don’t talk like that.
MAN: You wouldn’t even let me stop to get us out of the spilled garbage.
EVAN: That was disgusting.
MAN You chewed on the missing-children milkboxes and moaned.
EVAN I felt sorry for you.
MAN You felt slimy to me.
EVAN You’re disgusting. You don’t even know how to cook. You use too many dishes. My mother never used that many dishes.
MAN (An extraordinary explosion, stands and bellows) DON’T EVER FUCKING TELL ME WHAT YOUR FUCKED-UP MIDDLE-CLASS MOTHER COOKED IN HER FUCKING CONNECTICUT COVEN TO FUCK YOU UP! (He sits down and with dignity resumes reading and sipping) Quit smiling, you conceited cunt; I CHOSE to yell just then.
EVAN (Pleased)You’re completely out of control. Drugs ruined your brain in the seventies. You never met my mother. I’ll kill you if you come near my mother.
MAN It would kill us all. Space explodes when matter and anti-matter meet.
EVAN No one would ever believe what I let you do to me. I have all the breeding. I have all the beauty. I have all the cards.
MAN And usually all the covers.
EVAN What book is that you’re reading?
MAN None of your business.
EVAN It better not be Stuart’s.
MAN Dear, rather than read that reconstituted pulp your slut lover exuded like earwax, I am reading “Her Serene Highness,” an exposé of Grace Kelly’s love life.
EVAN (Turns on room lights) Where did that come from? I don’t want you bringing faggot shit like that in here. You should be ashamed.
MAN It was on your shelf. You should be ashamed of your shelf.
EVAN My sublettor left a lot of faggot shit like that here. I hate faggot shit.
MAN Evan, do stop talking like that in the presence of her Serene hiney.
EVAN Faggot shit. Fairy shit. Shit, shit, shit.
MAN (in motherly voice) Why, son, I wouldn’t have that in my hands, much less in my mouth.
EVAN Stuart got offered to write that kind of faggot shit. He never would.
MAN Stuart only wrote things where they gave him an outline of the “genre” and he just filled in the adjectives and place-names.
EVAN Shut up.
MAN Young Adult Friction Fiction and Weight-Watchers Romances.
EVAN I told you to shut up.
MAN Under twenty different pen-names so nobody could catch him.
EVAN You’re not worthy to talk about him.
MAN That stuff has the shelf life of a banana.
EVAN At least he got PAID to write them.
MAN Yeah, twenty-five hundred a pop, just enough to buy you batteries.
EVAN He was going to be famous! He was going to be a star! He used to say to me, “Someday my name is going to be right up there on that television screen, it’s going to say ‘Script by’–”
MAN (Interrupting) Yeah, by who? Which of his fifty pen-names was he going to use? And which of his two plots?
EVAN He would have been up there!
MAN No, he wouldn’t, you wouldn’t have let him out of bed long enough.
MAN All he could do in between your cries of “Ram me! Cram me!” was fill in the blanks in his connect-the-dots doozies–
EVAN I said to stop!
MAN –and then jam it in a bottle and throw it out the window and hope some Samaritan would take it to a publisher because it was all he could do to keep you stapled to the sofa while he huffed and you yelled, “Where have you BEEN? What were you DOING? I felt EMPTY! Harder harder faster FASter!”
EVAN (CAPITALIZED lines under the above) I DIDN’T HURT HIM! I HELPED HIM! I DIDN’T KEEP HIM FROM DOING ANYTHING! I had to watch him! I had to watch him die! They put him in that oxygen machine and he ruptured and he blew up like a balloon and turned red like a lobster and I banged and banged and banged on the glass and I couldn’t HELP him!
MAN (During the above speech while subduing the flailing EVAN and hugging and trying to comfort him, by the end of which speech EVAN is sitting on the MAN’s lap sobbing) Honey, Evan, honey, don’t flail, you’ll hurt yourself, more likely you’ll hurt me. Don’t cry.
EVAN I never stopped him. I helped him. I believed in him. He would have been great. I inspired him. He loved me.
MAN Anyone would love you, angel.
EVAN I loved him.
MAN I know you did, honey. There, there. (Hums slowly, until EVAN is recovered, “There’s No Business Like Show Business.”)
EVAN (Fully recovered) You know you’re a piece of shit.
MAN I don’t know anything.
EVAN Why are you reading that stupid book?
MAN Well, can we ever be sure we know enough about Grace Kelly? Did you know that on the set she and Hitchcock used to while away the dull stretches playing an amusing little word game? Didja know that, didja, huh?
EVAN I don’t want to move back home tomorrow.
MAN They made up appropriate names for the various workers on the film.
EVAN (Still on MAN’s lap) But I don’t want to die in New York.
MAN For instance, the sound-recording man was “Mike Fright.” Get it: mike-fright?
EVAN I hate New York.
MAN And the costume designer was “Wilma Titshow.”
EVAN Please make some money.
MAN And the little gofer boy was “Phil Coffee.”
EVAN You’ll never make some money with your faggot plays.
MAN And the editor was “Philma Cutter.”
EVAN Please write something else and make money so I don’t have to die in this filthy ugly city.
MAN And the make-up man was “Will Flatter”…And the writer, of course, was “Gay Integrity.”
EVAN (Getting up) …Oh, you won’t ever make any money. No one will ever pay you for that faggot shit you write. You won’t ever amount to anything. You can’t do anything. You’re only good for one thing.
MAN Very few fellas have two.
EVAN You’re only good for cooking. And dishwashing.
MAN That’s two.
EVAN You have dinner ready when I come home from the gym like you were a little nervous girl.
MAN Well, at least under me you’ve gained some weight.
EVAN (Contemptuously) So have you.
MAN I have, but only in my addendum. All that exercise straddling your saddle while you pummel your pommel is making my bugger bigger.
EVAN (Pleased) No pain, no gain. (He starts playing with his shorts’ waistband)
MAN (Rises) If I can walk with my new third leg, I’m getting some milk and cookies.
EVAN I don’t want any. (Lets waistband go with a snap!)
MAN (At refrigerator or offstage) There’s no cookies.
EVAN (Sits) Then I want some.
MAN There are doughnuts.
EVAN Then I don’t want any of those.
MAN How many don’t you want?
EVAN Two. And I don’t want a glass of milk, too.
MAN And a glass of milk. Here. (He returns with a tray which holds two glasses of milk, a saucer with two doughnuts, and an open box of doughnuts. He places it on the table) This will help with your weight.
EVAN DON’T talk about my weight, stupid……How many are you eating?
MAN (Seating himself and enjoying the snack) As many as my muse commands.
EVAN I’m your muse, and don’t come back to my bed all greasy and crumby.
MAN Greasy would be practical, and crumby is the mood you usually prefer.
EVAN Why did you bring a tray? It’s just something else to wash. You use too many dishes. I never saw my– [mother]
MAN CUT THAT SHIT SHORT!……Or I’ll surprise you and pierce you with a cold frozen kielbasa rather than my painful gainful dick.
EVAN Don’t DARE to presume to talk like that to me. Hippie scum, don’t dare to presume equality with me. I only let you hang around and service me because you’re so old–
MAN Right on.
EVAN –and so ugly–
MAN Right on.
EVAN –and you’ll do anything I say.
MAN Dream on.
EVAN And because you’re always ready. Stiff Stuff.
MAN Sure. Grace and Alfred used to call me “Rod Reddy.”
EVAN You’re always ready to– (a plea for amusement) Come on, make up some new names for it.
EVAN You can’t. You’re all burned out.
MAN I’m always ready to churn your urn while you kindle your candle?
EVAN That’s no good.
MAN To buff your alley while you polish your pin?
EVAN You’ve lost it.
MAN ……To swell in your melon while you garrot your carrot?
EVAN Better……Why are you always ready?
MAN Because you’re so beautiful.
EVAN Okay, I am definitely going home tomorrow to my parents. (Makes as if to rise)
MAN Christ, you’ve got more strings attached on you than Pinocchio. (EVAN sits) I am so readily erectile because I have–have had since I was fourteen–chronic noninfectious tuberculosis. The afflicted individual suffers no ill effects, but is perpetually painfully aroused.
EVAN ……It’s a disease?
EVAN Like mine?
EVAN But you can’t give yours to me?
EVAN And yours won’t ever kill you?
EVAN And that’s what makes you always horny?
MAN So they say.
EVAN What about me, Socrates?
MAN Which of you? You go through ninety-five scenarios a minute. You’re all the occupants of a bourgeois brothel. You need someone to punish for your parents, both the real ones and the ideally perfect and the ideally evil ones you imagine. Ditto for everyone you ever failed or who ever failed you, including the mangled men that got caught in your act before I did. You’re always ready with another personality to punish any prospective customer. That isn’t an asshole you’re carrying around, kid. It’s a kaleidoscope.
EVAN Are you daring to suggest, scum, that we were made for each other?
MAN Like custom straitjackets. And I don’t give a damn what you do when you’re not actively cracking your whip while I go through your hoop. ……What DID you do today? Did you take your medication?
EVAN I wish I could fuck people.
MAN Well, God knows I’m over here greasy and crummy.
EVAN You know I can’t. I’m poison.
MAN Do it to a doughnut. I’ll watch.
EVAN I couldn’t fuck you anyway. Young men don’t fuck old men.
MAN Like big girls don’t cry.
EVAN That’s disgusting. Only old men should fuck only young men.
MAN You know, I’ve heard that before.
EVAN I’m going to die without ever fucking anybody.
MAN Is that something middle-class mothers teach their sons? Via telepathy?
EVAN I wish I could give it to you.
MAN What mutually contradictory middle-class axioms do you misapply to make such rigid rules for your rigid ruler?
EVAN I wish I could give it to you.
MAN Well, you’ve had ample opportunity to study the technique. Under me.
EVAN I WISH I COULD GIVE IT TO YOU!
MAN You force me to be sincere. I do, too.
EVAN No, you son of a bitch. [MAN: Takes one to know one.] I wish I could give what I’ve got to you! You don’t even ever have to wear a condom! Well, I wouldn’t wear one either! Do you hear me? Do you understand me? I’d like to give what I’ve got to you! GIVE IT TO YOU! TO EVERYONE OF YOU HEALTHY SONS OF BITCHES! GIVE IT TO YOU!
(EVAN, who has leaned across the table like a cobra during this speech, relapses back into his chair. There is a long moment of shamed silence)
MAN ……I thought you made a rule that we couldn’t talk about it.
EVAN I haven’t got any rules. Your petty moral rules don’t apply to me anymore. I’m immortal. Or vice versa. What’s the difference?
MAN Am I tiring you out making you do the gym every day?
EVAN Oh, what is this, Rocky’s coach backing down? Gonna ease up on my schedule? Gonna not make me go to the gym, or eat three full meals. or not smoke or drink? Gonna back down, dominant male? Well, why don’t you cut out my really hard work, like why don’t you go find somebody else to flog his log while you seed his sod? Why don’t you leave me alone and quit hammering at my ass go find somebody else to DRILL, drill sergeant?
MAN …I think I ought to go back to my place tonight.
EVAN You’re not going anywhere.
MAN You’re upset.
EVAN You couldn’t upset me. You couldn’t do anything to me. You’re beneath my notice, hippie scum.
MAN (Rises and clears table) It isn’t good for you to get that frantic. I can’t imagine it’s good for anybody to get that frantic. I’m going to wash these up and–well, maybe I won’t wash them up. I’ll just leave them here and put on my clothes and get on the ‘A’ train and call you tomorrow.
(EVAN mockingly echoes the above from “well, maybe I won’t wash them up;” He’s heard it before. Then:)
EVAN Don’t dare call me tomorrow. I’m going home to my folks tomorrow.
MAN (Returning and going to his side of the table to get his book) I don’t want to cause you any grief. I’m here for fun, yours and mine, and if it’s not fun–
EVAN Oh, shut up, you worship me.
MAN What makes you think so?
EVAN You don’t care about my health or how I am or if I turn inside out and yip like a puppy. You’re crazy in love with me.
MAN I would have thought love included some kind of caring, some–
EVAN OH, come down to Earth, your serene highness. (Slaps his own ass) This is Earth. This is all you’re here for. (Slaps his own ass) This is all I’m good for. You don’t come here for anything else but this, and as long as I keep letting you have your spasm into my chasm while I jerk my works, you’ll stay here and do whatever I tell you to. And you’ll do it whenever I say, as long as I look pretty. And when I start getting ugly, you’ll go home. And I’ll die. And THAT’S life on Earth.
MAN What kind of men have you been with?
EVAN Earth men.
EVAN (Emphasizing the pun with smacks on his arched ass) But, but, but, but, but, but, BUTT! Come over here and get it. Good Samaritan.
MAN Evan, this is shameful.
EVAN Yeah? Well, come over here and spank it then, mister. You aren’t taking care of some poor ugly guy with sores all over him, mister, you’re here taking care of a cute little trick that you’re making cuter every day, making him eat right and take his medicine-wedicine and wift his weights and then wift his wegs. And I’m not with you to get taken care of. I’m with you because you can come so much and I’m a bored suburban sex pig desperate enough to let even a droop like you poker my pucker while I’m fistin’ my piston. So shut up.
MAN That’s not true, Evan. What you say is simply not true, and I can prove it.
EVAN Oh? Yeah? How?
MAN (With a triumphant smirk) The sex is just for you. I only fake coming.
EVAN (Major seismic event) WHAT? NO YOU DON’T! YOU ALWAYS COME! YOU COME BUCKETS! I MAKE YOU COME! I MAKE YOU CRAZY! YOU CRY WHEN YOU COME! YOU NEVER GET ENOUGH! I HAVE YOU WRAPPED AROUND MY LITTLE FINGER! I’M A DEATH GRIP! I’LL NEVER LET YOU GO! IT’S NOT BECAUSE I’M SICK! I’M NOT SICK! YOU’RE SICK! YOU’RE FUCKED CRAZY! YOU COULDN’T LIVE IF I DIDN’T LET YOU PUT YOUR HOSE UP MY ROSE WHILE I BULLY MY PULLEY! (EVAN stops, heaving heavy breaths, looking really dangerous. He gives himself time to come down)
MAN (When it seems safe) ……We’re not going to fist-fight again and wreck more kitchen fixtures?
EVAN You loved it when we fought. You loved it when I came through the broken dishes in just what was left of my jockey shorts and you thought I was going to gut you, but you laughed like a little girl when I threw my arms around you and kissed you with my bloody nose and said (doing “Rocky”), “I love you, Adrian.”
MAN I laughed the first time you let me come down your chimney while you jingled your bells. Then I lay there panting and crying and you turned toward me, from under the covers, and I thought you were going to say, “Okay, get out, goon,” but you said, “Please, sir, can I have some more?”
EVAN And you said, “Your face isn’t great, but you’re beautiful in the extreme.” I love writers. You fight good.
MAN You shouldn’t fight. You already owe your sublettor a fortune for past wreckage.
EVAN Oh, what do I care? I’ll never have to pay him.
MAN ……Evan, don’t.
EVAN You don’t get it. I’ll make YOU pay him. I’ll make you so pussy-whipped you’ll quit writing that faggot shit and start writing some stuff that decent people will read and I’ll take all your money and run away.
MAN Evan, I’ll try. I’ll try to try. It’s hard for me. But I will.
EVAN Oh, you won’t. Give up, you can’t. You’re a failure.
MAN I am not insensitive to what you said before.
EVAN What? I didn’t say anything.
MAN About how you didn’t want to die in New–
EVAN (interrupting) I didn’t say that.
MAN Evan, has it started affecting your brain? You said–
EVAN I never said that.
MAN Yes, you did.
EVAN Listen, dick-brain; if you ever again want to push my tush, I never said that. Okay?
EVAN You pussy. You’re a sucker for a sob story. Anybody can fool you. (Starts tugging shorts down slowly)
MAN Evan, don’t so that.
EVAN (Continuing to tug) What? Do what? Why not?
MAN Look, why is it just when we’re having one compassionate moment of human understanding–
EVAN Oh, bull pookey. Don’t get corny. Get porny. Come plug my plague while I mangle my dangle.
MAN Evan, you know very well that if you pull that waistband down one and one half inches more I will fly over the table and make your hole hell. I am not proud of that reflex, but there are human limits. And one inch more and I’m not responsible.
EVAN You say I have strings. YOU have strings. I can pull your strings. I don’t have to do anything. I just have to be there. And pull these shorts down. Even in the dark you get hot when I pull my shorts down. (Turns off room lights)
MAN It’s because of that great bleach you use on them, they glow in the dark.
EVAN Shut up. Shut up, stupid. Shut up, wimp. Shut up, cocksucker. Shut up, ass licker. If you don’t want to see, turn out that light. (MAN clicks off table light and opens blinds) I didn’t tell you to open those blinds.
MAN Fuck you.
EVAN Not if you don’t mind me, Okay, leave ’em open. That’s all right. I’m over here. No one can see me. But anyone that looks up can see you over there shivering like a little girl. And in a few minutes–
MAN In a few minutes they’ll hear you shaking the bedstead and howling, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t ever stop.”
EVAN I never.
MAN You always.
EVAN They’ll hear you yelling, “Do you love it? Do you love it? Do you love it? Please love it!”
MAN I never say that.
EVAN You forever say that. Poor sucker. Poor fucker.
MAN I don’t.
EVAN You do.
MAN I don’t.
EVAN You will.
MAN You dreary sadistic polluted pretentious defensive deluded diseased little middle-class queen, I wouldn’t fucking fuck you for the fucking moon!
EVAN Here it is! (He makes the fatal tug)
MAN Evan, I–oh, shit! (He lunges across the table and carries [or drags] the howling-with-laughter EVAN offstage)
EVAN (As they exit offstage) You poor sucker! You poor pitiful fucker!
MAN (Offstage) Be still! I said be still!(EVAN’s shorts fly onstage)
EVAN Make me! Make me!
MAN Be still! Hold still! (The MAN’s towel flies onstage. EVAN yelps off-stage) THERE! AH! Goddammit! Ah! Ah! Aaaaaaah!
EVAN (Interspaced) OH! OH! YEEEEAHHH! Faster! Harder! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Oh, God, don’t ever stop! (Etc.)
MAN (Interspaced) Take it! Take it! Do you want it? Do you like it? Do you love it? Do you love it? Love it, baby, love it! Love it! Love it!
EVAN Stop it! (Silence) Say you love me!
EVAN I won’t let you go any further till you say it! Say you love me!
MAN Okay ….. You love me! [EVAN: Son of a bitch son of a bitch son of a bitch!] You love me! You love me!
(They climax together screaming “You loooooove me!” and “Son of a biiiiitch!”)