Living Space
Page 3
You know, Francine, it does look different in here. This- this may sound crazy, but when we came in here, I- Naw, forget it.
FRANCINE:
Tell me.
DEREK:
The bathroom door seemed... kinda further away. I dunno, when I first saw this apartment it seemed huge. Maybe I was letting my imagination run away with me.
FRANCINE:
No, you’re right. I see it too. What the hell is going on?
DEREK:
I dunno.
SOUND:
THE MACHINERY NOISE AGAIN UNDER THE FOLLOWING DIALOG.
FRANCINE:
There’s that sound again.
DEREK:
It’s definitely a machine.
FRANCINE:
Look at the walls, Derek – the walls are MOVING!
DEREK:
Shit! We gotta get out of here!
SOUND:
THEY BOTH START HAMMERING AT THE DOOR, DESPARATELY.
FRANCINE & DEREK:
(INTERMINGLED CRIES FOR HELP. AFTER A WHILE, IT BECOMES CLEAR NO-ONE IS COMING, AND THEY GIVE UP.)
DEREK:
There’s gotta be some kind of hidden release somewhere. I mean, what if Winkler were to lock himself in here?
FRANCINE:
Maybe he wedges the door open.
DEREK:
And you call me stupid. Hey, I think I’ve got something!
FRANCINE:
You found it?
DEREK:
No. No, it’s just a bubble. I think this wallpaper was put up recently.
FRANCINE:
Thanks, Derek, that’s incredibly useful.
DEREK:
Give me a hand here, I think I can tear it off.
FRANCINE:
We’re supposed to be trying to get out of here, not redecorating!
DEREK:
Just give me a hand will you?!
FRANCINE:
What are you looking for?
DEREK:
I don’t know – a clue, maybe.
FRANCINE:
What do you mean, like he wrote us a message, explaining how to get out of here – do you think that’s likely?
DEREK:
I don’t know, Francine! About a half-hour ago, I didn’t think the idea of someone trying to crush me to death was too likely! Now shut up and give me a hand!
SOUND:
THEY TEAR OFF A STRIP OF WALLPAPER.
FRANCINE:
Holy crap.
DEREK:
OK... not a clue.
FRANCINE:
Now we know what happened to the last tenants.
DEREK:
That’s blood, isn’t it?
FRANCINE:
Blood... and what looks like smeared body parts and bits of bone and brain matter... Derek -- I’m going to be sick.
DEREK:
I think there’s another sheet of wallpaper under this one.
SOUND:
THEY TEAR OFF THE NEXT STRIP.
FRANCINE:
Oh God.
DEREK:
Another...
SOUND:
ANOTHER STRIP IS TORN.
DEREK:
How many more do you think there are?
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN.
FRANCINE:
DEREK! The walls are moving again!
DEREK:
Calm down, we’ll figure something out.
FRANCINE:
This is insane! Why the hell didn’t I think of doing this before?
SOUND:
FRANCINE STARTS PUNCHING THE BUTTONS ON HER CELLPHONE.
FRANCINE:
I must be an idiot...
DEREK:
You calling the cops?
FRANCINE:
Cops, fire department, anybody... Shit! Can’t get a signal! Derek, you got your cell phone?
DEREK:
Yeah, hold on...
SOUND:
DEREK ALSO PUNCHES BUTTONS.
DEREK:
Nothing. Not a thing. There’s no signal in this place. What’s up with that?
FRANCINE:
He -- The window!
DEREK:
Nobody’s going to hear us, Francine.
FRANCINE:
Who gives a shit? We’ve just got to get the window open! If there’s a ledge, we can climb out!
DEREK:
Are you kidding me? Do you know how high up we are?
FRANCINE:
You’re absolutely, right, Derek, we should stay here and wind up a smear on a sheet of wallpaper!
DEREK:
Fine, come on, let’s try.
DEREK & FRANCINE:
(THEY STRAIN FURIOUSLY – AFTER A WHILE, THEY GIVE UP, EXHAUSTED)
DEREK:
You know what? I don’t think this was ever made to be opened.
FRANCINE:
(A CRY OF FRUSTRATION)
SOUND:
HER CELLPHONE HITS THE WINDOW, HITS THE FLOOR AND FALLS TO PIECES.
DEREK:
OK, if your phone didn’t work before, it’s totally screwed now.
FRANCINE:
The glass is too thick to smash – must’ve been made for a submarine or something.
SOUND:
SHE THUMPS THE GLASS.
FRANCINE:
(SHE SOBS WITH FRUSTRATION)
DEREK:
Maybe we could cut the glass.
FRANCINE:
With what?
DEREK:
Do you have a ring?
FRANCINE:
You’re kidding me right! We’ve been together for two years and you don’t know whether or not I wear any rings?
DEREK:
(HYSTERICAL WITH ANGER) Can you cut the glass?
FRANCINE:
(HYSTERICAL WITH ANGER) No I can’t!
DEREK:
We’re dead. That’s it. We’re dead.
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN.
DEREK:
Oh My God. This isn’t happening. This is- this is freaking crazy! Who builds an apartment where the walls move in and crush the tenants? I mean, who does that?
FRANCINE:
H. H. Holmes.
DEREK:
Sherlock Holmes?
FRANCINE:
H. H. Holmes, Derek – he was a real person, a serial killer, about a hundred years ago. He... built a hotel in Chicago, but it was like something out of the Saw movies – all the rooms were designed to kill the guests in insane and twisted ways. The people staying at his hotel would have money on them because they were on vacation. After he killed the people he would keep their money and dispose of their bodies by melting the flesh away in an acid bath and selling the skeletons to medical schools.
DEREK:
How do you know all that?
FRANCINE:
Because I work in a frigging bookstore, Derek! I don’t sit on my ass all day watching Conan O’Brien reruns and trying to figure out how to tell the exact same joke with different words!
DEREK:
Everybody does that!
FRANCINE:
I’m out there making money instead of dreaming of being Jon Stewart’s bitch!
DEREK:
OK, that does it!
FRANCINE:
What are you going to do, Derek? Walk out? Good luck with that! You wanted to know who does something like this, and I told you!
DEREK:
Yeah, H. H. Holmes! And I bet he got caught!
FRANCINE:
Actually, he didn’t. He got away with it, moved to Texas and started killing all over again.
DEREK:
But that was a century ago, Francine! You couldn’t do something like that today without getting caught!
FRANCINE:
Well, apparently this guy Winkler has!
DEREK:
We have to signal someone for help.
FRANCINE:
No-one’s going to see us.
DEREK:
We have to try, Francine!
FRANCINE:
Fine.
DEREK:
Do you have a lipstick?
FRANCINE:
Are you serious?
DEREK:
Just give me the goddam lipstick.
SOUND:
FRANCINE UNZIPS HER BAG, RUMMAGES THROUGH IT.
FRANCINE:
Here.
DEREK:
Terrific.
SOUND:
HE TAKES THE TOP OFF THE LIPSTICK.
DEREK:
Now let’s do this...
SOUND:
THE LIPSTICK SQUEAKS AGAINST THE WINDOW AS HE WRITES.
DEREK:
(PROUD OF HIMSELF) How do you like that, huh?
FRANCINE:
Are you shitting me?
DEREK:
What? No! It’s a cry for help – H-E-L-P spells “help”.
FRANCINE:
Terrific. Now how about writing it backwards, so people on the outside can see it?
DEREK:
(REALIZATION) Oh shit, you’re right -- I’ll do it again but write it backwards!
SOUND:
HE STARTS RUBBING THE WRITING OFF.
FRANCINE:
Forget it, Derek.
DEREK:
I’m doing it, I’m doing it!
FRANCINE:
I said forget it. You’re just making a huge mess.
DEREK:
I need some water to wash it off.
FRANCINE:
Fine, I’ll try the bathroom. (SARCASTICALLY) Oh, wait-
DEREK:
Do you have any better ideas, Francine? Scratch that – do you have any ideas?
FRANCINE:
Opening the window was my idea!
DEREK:
And it sucked!
FRANCINE:
You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.
DEREK:
So can you, that’s why we’re perfect for one another.
FRANCINE:
(SURPRISING HERSELF, SHE EMITS A LAUGH) We’re perfect alright – we’re going to be perfectly dead.
DEREK:
(PAUSE) I could try writing “help” again.
FRANCINE:
Nobody’ll see it – it’s too small, too far away from the next building. This is hopeless. Look at this place - it’s nearly half the size it was.
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN (DIALOG UNDER).
FRANCINE:
Now it’s half the size.
DEREK:
Do you think the walls are closing in faster? How much time do you think we have…
FRANCINE:
I can’t think because of the noise.
DEREK
Yeah, there’s no way the people in the apartment below can’t hear that.
FRANCINE:
Maybe there is no-one in the apartment below.
DEREK:
Huh?
FRANCINE:
Think about it – we haven’t seen anyone. Not in the lobby, not in the elevator, not up here. Elevator operator’s ’supposedly’ on break. Or maybe there is no elevator operator.
DEREK:
You seriously think the entire building-
FRANCINE:
Is empty. Yep. I do.
DEREK:
How could Winkler pull it offt?
FRANCINE:
He said he owns the building.
DEREK:
And he just uses it for- - killing people?
FRANCINE:
Why not?
DEREK:
It’s insane.
FRANCINE:
I know.
DEREK:
He’s insane. How can he keep getting away with this? Sooner or later, someone’s gonna come looking for us, he’s got to know that.
FRANCINE:
Why?
DEREK:
Because he’s not stupid, just psychotic.
FRANCINE:
But why would anybody come looking for us? Did you tell anybody about the ad?
DEREK:
I told you.
FRANCINE:
Besides me.
DEREK:
Who else would I tell? I mean, you’re my girlfriend and my best friend. (PAUSE) Did you tell anyone? At the bookstore?
FRANCINE:
Sure.
DEREK:
(HOPEFULLY) They’d remember, that right?
FRANCINE:
The exact address? I doubt it. And that’s no good to us right now. We’ll be crushed to bits long before anyone notices we’re missing.
DEREK:
I know, I just want someone to punish that son of a bitch for doing this to us!
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN.
DEREK:
Can he hear us?
FRANCINE:
It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Maybe he can hear us, but no-one else can – there’s nobody next door, nobody below us...
DEREK:
(INSPIRATION STRIKES) That’s it!
FRANCINE:
What’s it?
DEREK:
How we get out of here! It’s like an intelligence test!
FRANCINE:
An intelligence test? That everyone else failed?
DEREK:
That’s right! “Are you smart enough to get out of here”? And no-one else was!
FRANCINE:
So how do we get out?
DEREK:
Through the apartment below us.
FRANCINE:
Brilliant. That’s brilliant, Derek.
DEREK:
Thanks.
FRANCINE:
(SUDDENLY ANNOYED) And just how the hell are we supposed to get into the apartment below?!
DEREK:
Through the floor! We rip up the carpet, tear up the floorboards, I don’t care if I lose a finger, at least we’ll get out of here!
FRANCINE:
(AFTER A PAUSE WHILE THIS SINKS IN) That is brilliant!
DEREK:
I know!
FRANCINE:
(LAUGHS HYSTERICALLY) Derek, I love you!
DEREK:
I love you too, Francine!
FRANCINE:
We’re going to live! – right?
DEREK:
Yes, we are!
DEREK & FRANCINE:
(BOTH LAUGH, CONGRATULATING EACH OTHER)
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN.
DEREK:
Whoa! Whoa!
FRANCINE:
We’ve got to hurry!
DEREK:
Where do we start?
FRANCINE:
Does it matter?
DEREK:
It matters - we’ve got to find the right spot, and we’ve got to do this together, Francine!
FRANCINE:
OK, uh... Here! Here!
DEREK:
I got it. Get your fingers underneath.
FRANCINE:
Ow!
DEREK:
What?
FRANCINE:
Broke a nail. It’s nothing. Let’s just do this.
SOUND:
THEY TEAR UP THE CARPET – SOME RIPPING.
FRANCINE & DEREK:
(STRAIN DURING THE TEARING UP, THEN SOME COUGHING, WHICH GIVES WAY TO SHOCK)
DEREK:
Dammit.
FRANCINE:
It’s a concrete floor, isn’t it?
SOUND:
DEREK TAPS THE CONCRETE.
DEREK:
Yeah.
FRANCINE:
Shit!
DEREK:
(AFTER A LONG PAUSE) How do you think he picks them? I mean us.
His victims.
FRANCINE:
I guess it’s whoever’s dumb enough to answer the ad – I doubt it’s a complicated selection process.
DEREK:
But why us? Why pick on us? W
e can’t be the only ones who called him.
Does he think we’re, like, bad people, who should be punished?
FRANCINE:
Who the hell knows?
DEREK:
We don’t deserve this!
FRANCINE:
Nobody deserves this, Derek.
SOUND:
THE WALLS MOVE AGAIN. THIS TIME, IT’S NOT A BRIEF NOISE. IT CONTINUES UNTIL THE END OF THE ACT.