by Neil LaBute
GIRL I like this music …
MAN … some girl told me about it …
GIRL Ha! You’re funny.
MAN Not very.
GIRL Sometimes … (Beat.) You sure you don’t want me to blow you or anything?
MAN Please don’t say that stuff.
GIRL Most guys would, just so you know … even if I was their niece and they ended up in this same situation? I’m telling you the truth: lots of guys would let me do it. (Smiles.) And I’ve been told that I give lovely head. Seriously. That exact word. “Lovely.”
MAN Shhhh. Just listen to the … (Checking his watch.) I’ll wake you when it’s time.
GIRL Don’t forget.
MAN I won’t.
GIRL Promise?
MAN Yes. I promise.
GIRL ’Kay.
MAN Goodnight.
GIRL ’Night.
MAN … love you.
GIRL … mmmmmmm …
He sits quietly, careful not to rouse her. One hand moves to touch her but he stops just short. Refraining.
She closes her eyes, starts to drift. She slips her thumb into her mouth.
Without opening her eyes, she says:
GIRL This is ok, right? What I’m doing? Isn’t it?
MAN Uh-huh. (Beat.) Yes, Amber. Everything’s just fine …
Together they sit and listen to the music. MAN and GIRL. Connected now, if only for the moment.
Silence. Darkness.
THE GREAT WAR
The Great War had its American premiere at Ensemble Studio Theater in New York City in May 2008. It was directed by Andrew McCarthy.
MAN Grant Shaud
WOMAN Laila Robins
NOTE: A slash ( / ) indicates the point of overlap in interrupted dialogue.
Silence. Darkness.
A living room. A MAN and a WOMAN seated—staring at each other over drinks. An eternity follows (a minute or two).
MAN … can I just say what I think?
WOMAN Of course.
MAN I mean, before we get all …
WOMAN I said “yes.”
MAN No, no, but honestly say it and not have to, you know—withstand, like, gale force winds in return?
WOMAN Please.
MAN What?
WOMAN Don’t start …
MAN What?
WOMAN You know. Don’t. Start.
MAN “Don’t start?”
WOMAN That’s right. Don’t.
MAN Excuse me … you don’t think it’s a little late for that? Hmm?/ I think we’re about a lifetime past “don’t start.”
WOMAN Whatever./ Just …
MAN It’s true.
WOMAN You’re so … fine. Go ahead.
MAN If you’d said “don’t start” to me on that Club Med trip we wouldn’t be sitting here right now … nine years of pretty-much-Hell behind us.
WOMAN True.
MAN We’d be safe and happy.
WOMAN I know.
MAN I might be seated next to someone I really loved and be making plans for Christmas in Barbados, so take it a bit easy with the “don’t starts,” ok?/ I mean …
WOMAN Fine./ No, it’s true. I should’ve gone with a “fuck you, you boring little prick” but I decided to give you a chance, so …
MAN Ha! Good one.
WOMAN That’s what I get for being nice.
MAN Exactly.
WOMAN … and forgetting my credit card. (Beat.) Amazing what I’ll endure for a Mai Tai.
They pause for a moment—sip at their respective drinks.
MAN Well, at least you won’t have to “endure” it any more, right?
WOMAN What’s that?
MAN This. Us.
WOMAN That’s true.
MAN Must be a relief … it is to me.
WOMAN Well, good. That’s great … I’m just really pleased that it’s all going so nicely for you. (Mock sigh.) That is terrific.
MAN Oh, fuck you. Okay?
WOMAN Ha! We’re so far past that having any impact—just so you know.
MAN Fine, I’ll remember that.
WOMAN Do. (Beat.) Save it for the kids—they still get scared when you scream or swear. Use it on them.
MAN You are … God! Such a bitch.
WOMAN Thanks.
MAN No, I don’t mean anything by it, a value judgment or whatever … but, man, you really are. You’re a total bitch.
WOMAN Asshole.
MAN Uh-huh. (Beat.) And for the record? That one doesn’t really have much impact, either. Alright? Might as well add it to your list there …
WOMAN Yeah … (Smiles.) Shit, pretty soon we’re gonna have to go back to calling each other by our real names.
MAN Exactly! (Laughs.) That’s true.
The MAN makes a little “toast” with his glass. They drink up.
MAN … so. What’re we gonna do?
WOMAN What do you mean?
MAN How does this end—what’s the next step?
WOMAN We go on … we do what we’ve been doing and we push on.
MAN Yeah?
WOMAN Yes. To the end. To the end of us. Of course. Absolutely./ God, yes.
MAN Fine./ Alright, Jesus … I was just asking.
WOMAN I mean, obviously. (Beat.) Sometimes you’re such an imbecile./ It really is breathtaking.
MAN Ok, fuck, I know!/ I didn’t mean … I’m aware we’re going to end it, I’m not … I meant specifically.
WOMAN Oh.
MAN What’re some of the specifics that you’ve been thinking about since … you know, since I’ve been out of the house.
WOMAN Ahhh. I see. Sorry. (Thinks.) Well, keep you out, that’s one. Keep you out of my house at all costs—that is the first thing. (Beat.) Today’s an exception, of course …
MAN ’Course. (Beat.) I like how my being gone for three months can suddenly make this “your” house. Amazing how that happens …
WOMAN That’s how “abandonment” works, my dear./ Seriously, it would be smart if you sat down with a lawyer at some point. Just for …
MAN “Abandonment!”/ That is so fucking choice … I mean it. That’s rich. To say that you’re … “A-ban-don-ment.”
WOMAN That’s what the nice woman told me. She assures me it’ll stick …
MAN Oh God, I don’t doubt it. I do not doubt it for a millisecond. (Beat.) I’m sure your lady attorney there is the bee’s knees at what she does for you—certainly seems like it from the size of her retainer.
WOMAN Life’s a bitch, what can I tell ya?
MAN “Life’s a bitch—and then you marry one!” I thought that was the joke.
WOMAN No baby—the joke’s on you. Get it?
MAN Cunt.
WOMAN Sorry, but that’s on the list, too, so don’t overuse it, ok?
MAN You really are …
WOMAN Sorry, what? I can’t hear you …
MAN Jesus Christ. (Beat.) How does this happen? Huh? How do we ever get to this place, where you can’t even stand the fucking … thought of a person, you know? Some specific person, let alone be around ’em? HOW?
WOMAN Day by day.
MAN I guess.
WOMAN Day-by-fucking-day. And you work at it, like anything else. You work and work and one day you’ve done it, dream come true. You despise that person you said you’d love forever. Detest them. (Beat.) It’s evolution, baby.
MAN … It’s bleak, that’s what it is.
WOMAN It’s life.
MAN No, it’s … yeah, maybe. Maybe so.
WOMAN It is. We’re fickle, us folks.
MAN That’s true.
WOMAN We are one fickle bunch.
MAN I suppose so.
WOMAN I know so … (Beat.) Except in first marriages, no offense. I don’t know why that is. Maybe because we think we’re missing something …
MAN … I dunno …
WOMAN Or going to … feel like we�
�re about to miss out on some great romantic secret that everybody but us is in on. So we rush off and do it …
MAN Do what?
WOMAN Marry. We jump in and marry the first schmuck who asks us—give ourselves away to the very first person who smiles at us or buys us drinks or takes us to bed. (Beat.) We are so fucking easy, most of us … fickle and easy. A deadly combination.
The MAN nods at this, then considers. Clears his throat.
MAN … I wasn’t the first guy who asked you to marry them. I mean, that’s not what you said.
WOMAN I know.
MAN So …
WOMAN I was referring to you. You jumped at the chance when I agreed to marry you.
MAN That’s true. (Smiles.) Hey, that’s funny!
WOMAN What is?
MAN The “schmuck” thing you said—with your scenario there. It’s you that made the … you’re the schmuck. Ha!
WOMAN God … and don’t I know it.
MAN Yeah, so why’d you do it, then? I mean, if I suck so much, even back then … why would you go and marry me? Hmm? Answer that …
The MAN stands and crosses to a bowl of nuts. Takes a few while the WOMAN considers what he’s just said. He returns.
WOMAN Safety, I suppose … / I think so, anyway.
MAN “Safety?”/ The hell does that mean?
WOMAN You were like … my safety school. (Smiles.) When you’re picking places to go to, as a student? You were my fall-back, my junior college. Safe. Cheap./ You were “within walking distance.”
MAN That is bullshit … / No, that’s …
WOMAN Is it?
MAN Yeah. You’re … yes.
WOMAN Whatever lets you get to sleep, I guess. (Beat.) It’s alright, baby, don’t worry about it … you can’t help it that you ended up such a nothing of a man …
MAN My God, you’re … no. Uh-uh. Don’t say that./ Shit like that.
WOMAN What?/ I don’t know what you’re …
MAN That. About me. The kids shouldn’t hear things like that. All of your negative … crap …
WOMAN They don’t. I fib to them, all the time … about you, life, stuff like that. I conjure up stories and make it all o-k. That’s my job now, that is what I’ve become. A professional liar.
MAN I see./ No, I’m … I get that … what you’re suggesting, I mean.
WOMAN I doubt it./ You probably don’t.
MAN Seriously, I do. You’re protecting them from what you consider is …
WOMAN The truth. What the truth is. Who you are, what this has become …
MAN … but it’s …
WOMAN What?
MAN I mean, you loved me once. Right? Not now, maybe, but back then …
WOMAN Really?
MAN Yes. I know you did./ Once.
WOMAN You might be right./ It’s possible.
MAN Of course you did! You … when they were running around in the yard or, or playing board games with them, the dice in our hands and laughing./ At some point during all that …
WOMAN Ok./ Maybe. It’s—I honestly can’t remember now.
MAN Well, I don’t care what you say—you did. You loved me and I loved you for awhile there. We were … yes.
The WOMAN can’t help but smile at the MAN’s earnestness.
WOMAN Hmmm. (Beat.) Somewhere during our nine years of “pretty-much-Hell?” At some point in there?
MAN Yes. During that. (Beat.) Listen, I just said that because … you know. Because.
WOMAN To hurt me.
MAN … yeah. Probably so. (Beat.) And … I mean … I’m just talking here, so don’t … but you would never even consider for … us … you know …?
WOMAN What?
MAN I dunno! Trying again, I guess. Try to just … whatever. Again. Us.
WOMAN Ummmmmm …
The woman considers this for a moment. Laughs. Covers her mouth.
WOMAN No. God, no … not ever!/ Never.
MAN Ok./ Alright.
WOMAN Not in a million … you know. Whatever you want to count with. (Beat.) Not if we were plopped down on some desert isle like … if you were that Robinson Crusoe guy, I’d still fucking hate you./ So … no. Uh-uh.
She looks over at the MAN and starts to say something else but catches herself. Laughs. Almost to the point of crying.
MAN Fine./ Okay, I get it! Shit!! I was just trying to … forget it.
WOMAN Fine.
MAN I wasn’t—it wasn’t for me, anyway. (Beat.) I was thinking of the kids. For their sake.
WOMAN Oh.
MAN Yeah.
WOMAN I see … for the kids. Our kids.
MAN Yes. For them.
WOMAN We could maybe stick it out for them?/ Another dozen years or so?
MAN Something like that … / Yeah.
WOMAN So that they could have a more … I dunno, stable environment in which to … right?
MAN Along those lines, yes. (Beat.) It wasn’t a … I mean, most studies show that children who’ve been …
WOMAN Honey, no offense but most studies don’t have to sleep in the same bed with you, alright? Most studies are not gonna have to get down and give you a blow job, so that’s …
MAN Fuck you./ “List” or not …
WOMAN I’m just saying … / Ha! Good one.
MAN You’re such a … shit! I mean …
The WOMAN catches herself and doesn’t respond. A silence.
WOMAN Most of the governmental studies you see in your USA Today are not ever going to have to spend any time at the dinner table staring over at your ineffectual little face and wishing that a piece of fucking satellite would drop on the house … I mean it, that this chunk of MIR would plummet right down on the dining room as you’re picking bits of roast beef out of your teeth with the edge of a business card—so, please, I beg you, please spare me any of your snappy “fun facts.” (Waits.) The kids—whom you probably could not even name if they were the final question on Jeopardy!—are going to be better off without the kind of death cloud we’ve had hanging over our marriage the last few years. Believe me.
MAN … true.
WOMAN Ok?
MAN Yeah. It’s … maybe you’re right.
WOMAN I am. I know it. (Beat.) No offense.
The MAN looks over at her—he’s the one to laugh out loud this time. A short, painful burst.
MAN Thanks.
WOMAN My pleasure.
MAN I’m sure …
WOMAN Honestly. I don’t say any of that with malice, I just—if we’re gonna do this, and we are, then it has to start from a place of complete and utter honesty.
MAN Right.
WOMAN And the honest truth is: we do not like each other any more. At all. Not one little bit.
MAN I know, but … it’s …
WOMAN That is our reality now, not some “remember when?” bullshit. No. Our present-day situation is that I’m living alone, I’m getting divorced and I regret every goddamn second that I ever wasted on this. Every one of them … seriously makes me want to weep and cry out in rage and shame and anger. That’s where we’re at, right there. That is the “us” you speak of.
MAN Geez. (Beat.) This is … huh. Turning out to be a brutally honest Tuesday on the Mickey Mouse club, isn’t it?
WOMAN It absolutely is. Yes.
MAN Alright then. (Sighs.) Ok, so let’s make sure that we … you know. Yes. Great. Let’s do this.
WOMAN What’s that?
MAN You know, whatever. Get down to it.
WOMAN … isn’t that what we’re doing?
MAN Yeah, sure it is, yes, but let’s … you know. Do the nitty-gritty.
WOMAN … meaning …?
MAN You know. Let’s start dividing up the spoils. And stuff.
The WOMAN looks over at him and studies his face. Scowls.
WOMAN That’s what you wanna talk about?
MAN No, I just … I mean …
WOMAN That’s why you called and said you “had” to see me?
MAN Look, don’t make me sound like some bad dude here—I just can’t talk in that place, when we’re sitting in a conference room somewhere./ Thought we could maybe … so I suggested …
WOMAN Ok./ No, fine. So let’s talk about our stuff. (Pointing.) You want that lamp, or should I …?
MAN Stop! (Beat.) We really should do it at some point. This./ Divide stuff up …
WOMAN Sure./ We absolutely should.
MAN I mean, seems like the right thing to do … the perfect time. While we are being so damn “honest.” Right?
WOMAN I’m … I agree. (Beat.) Why not?
MAN No reason whatsoever. It’s about that time.
WOMAN Yes. Let’s.
The MAN gets up, goes to make himself yet another drink.
MAN Alright. (He settles back down.) Ok, so … you go first. And don’t be all clever and shit, please; don’t talk about the lamps. I didn’t mean all the individual—I don’t want to be petty about this.
WOMAN … thank God for that …
MAN Come on, can we just …? I’m trying to be serious here and get through one conversation about the future without spitting at each other like two, you know, cobras or something.
WOMAN Okay. (Beat.) I’m pretty sure cobras attack other things, though …
The MAN looks at her, uncertain. He hesitates then speaks:
MAN … no? Do they?
WOMAN Think so./ Uh-huh. They don’t waste time trying to kill their own kind.
MAN Really?/ Huh.
WOMAN It was on the TV … (Beat.) And you really think the two of us can divy up the, like, silverware and shit? In our present state?
MAN Ummmmm … I honestly don’t know, but I’d like to try. If you will. In a general way, I’m saying …
WOMAN No, sure, it could be … yes. Go-for-it. I’m …
The WOMAN looks off again, starts to stand up but abruptly sits back down. The MAN watches her. Shakes his head.
MAN Alright then … that’s … (He pulls a sheet of paper out of his pocket.) I just jotted down a few … so let me see …
WOMAN Well, well—aren’t we prepared?
MAN No, it’s no big … I did it on the way over here. (Glances at her.) I mean, at breakfast. During that.
WOMAN Huh. I see. (Beat.) So?
The MAN shifts around a bit, trying to assert some sort of authority. To make it all sound proper. He sits down again.
MAN So, look, I’ll be honest here …
WOMAN … that should be interesting …