GATE AGENT 1
Over gate intercom:
Chipper cheerio, travelers! Uh-oh, SpaghettiOs, I’ve got some bad news. Your last-resort flight to Dubai or Chechnya or whatever . . . oh, Casablanca, is now delayed by thirty minutes. We’re sorry-not-sorry for the inconvenience.
GATE AGENT 1 clicks the receiver down and CRYING GIRL begins a soft whimpering. ENTITLED RAGE perks up.
ENTITLED RAGE
What?!?! Ahhh, absolutely not! Of course it’s delayed! Satan invented air travel!
JAMES’S IPHONE
Hey, babe. My flight to Morocco is now delayed. I’m worried I won’t make my connection. I don’t know what to do. I really don’t want to be stranded in Casablanca.
DAN’S IPHONE
I’m sorry. Take a couple deep breaths, my love. I dunno if it’s the right time, but here’s the Pussycat Dolls’ performance from the other day!
JAMES’S IPHONE
It’s always the right time for the Pussycat Dolls.
JAMES watches “React” by the Pussycat Dolls on his phone. The airport scene darkens, and five spotlights appear on five passengers, including ENTITLED RAGE and CRYING GIRL. In a scene of pure fantasy, they perform the song as the Pussycat Dolls.
And we got a tilt at the end! I was waiting for it!
DAN’S IPHONE
Same. Haha. Also, her little vagina covering!
GATE AGENT 1
Over gate intercom:
Hello, happy travelers! Betcha wanna know what’s the 4-1-1. What’s the sitch. The scoop. The tea. Welp, looks like we’ve got another delay c-c-comin’ your way. Let’s tack on another thirty minutes to our already delayed flight. That’s right, an hour total delay! Yay!
GATE AGENT 1 clicks off intercom.
ENTITLED RAGE
This is insane. Who do I need to speak to? I’m so busy and important it’s crazy!
Blackout.
Scene Three
ROYAL AIR MAROC AIRPLANE INTERIOR. 12 P.M.
All passengers are seated, their bags stowed in the overhead bins.
JAMES’S IPHONE
The cabin crew has been told to identify the owner of each bag in the overhead bins. They’re going through every bag trying to find one passenger who might have brought a bag aboard and then left the plane! So strange. Kind of scary.
The flight attendants move from row to row, inspecting each bag in the overhead bins and asking the passengers to whom each bag belongs.
There’s a beautiful Moroccan flight attendant tho. So tall. Unibrow. Should be a model.
DAN’S IPHONE
Hot. Sleep with him.
ENTITLED RAGE
Stands up from his seat in front of JAMES.
What’s going on?! Why the hell did we go through security if you’re just gonna do it all over again on the plane? C’mon! I’m gonna get stuck in Morocco! I’m gonna miss my connection! Fucking hell! Then what?! Hey! Listen up! Anybody else on their way to Boston?
Many other passengers raise their hands or turn around to nod at ENTITLED RAGE.
What the hell are we gonna do?! SHIT!
UNIBROW
Sir, please sit down! We are about to begin taxiing.
UNIBROW is clearly annoyed. He scoffs and rolls his eyes like a teenager.
We’ll stop inspecting the bags and make everyone wait until you sit down.
ENTITLED RAGE takes his seat forcefully.
UNIBROW mutters to his colleague, a short woman with bright-red-dyed hair.
I hate this fucking bullshit.
The cabin lights flicker and shift to a hazy glow. UNIBROW begins singing the Pussycat Dolls’ “I Hate This Part,” as CRYING GIRL continues whimpering and ENTITLED RAGE fidgets and grumbles in his seat. UNIBROW continues slowly checking each tiny bag, with the assistance of his portly peer, until the song finishes and they are finally ready for takeoff.
PILOT
Over intercom.
Flight attendants, please be seated for departure.
ENTITLED RAGE
Ugh! FINALLY!
Blackout.
ACT TWO
Scene One
CASABLANCA AIRPORT. ROYAL AIR MAROC ARRIVAL GATE. 2:15 P.M.
JAMES’S IPHONE
Landed in Casablanca!
Just got a text that my flight from Boston to New York City has been canceled.
Cool cool.
There’s no way I’m making my connection. It’s in 10 minutes.
I asked if I could deplane first and they were like, “fuck u bitch.”
I sat next to the most annoying person ever. Her elbow was halfway in my lap and she didn’t understand the seatbelt. She made me do it up for her multiple times.
DAN’S IPHONE
Fucking lunatic.
JAMES, ENTITLED RAGE, CRYING GIRL, and the rest of the passengers exit the plane in a rush.
ENTITLED RAGE
Are they gonna wait for us?! They HAVE to wait for us!!
GATE AGENT 2
Oh, absolutely. They’re going to wait for each and every one of you. You had better hurry, though. See that plane next door? That’s your plane. You had better hurry over to the gate. Thank goodness it’s so close.
About ten people begin running to the new gate for their connection to Boston, Massachusetts, USA.
ENTITLED RAGE
What the fuck was that lady talking about?! Our gate is at the other end of the airport!!
CRYING GIRL
Oh, my god! Daddy is gonna kill me if I miss this flight!
CRYING GIRL is running and weeping loudly, moaning and sniffling.
JAMES
Which way?!
ENTITLED RAGE
That way! Let’s GO!
The travelers run in place as lights shift and pass by them quickly to signify passage through space to the other end of the terminal.
MISS AIRPLANE can be seen shuffling in the distance. MISS AIRPLANE is a woman in a boxy, unflattering Royal Air Maroc airplane costume. Her costume is an actual replica of the airplane. She can be seen shuffling away from the gate.
CASABLANCA AIRPORT. ROYAL AIR MAROC DEPARTURE GATE. 2:30 P.M.
All travelers perform exciting choreography as ENTITLED RAGE and MISS AIRPLANE begin a sassy duet to the Pussycat Dolls’ “Wait a Minute.”
The musical interlude concludes as the travelers finally reach the gate.
CRYING GIRL
WAIT! Noooooooo! Oh, my god, nuh-uh! I can like fucking still see the plane. Like it’s right there. Like I can see you. Ahhhhhh.
Weeps and whines. Falls to knees.
ENTITLED RAGE
Screaming and truly beside himself.
STOP THE PLANE! TURN IT AROUND! I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD TURN IT AROUND RIGHT NOW! THERE’S TEN OF US, FOR GOD’S SAKE! HAVE YOU ANY HUMANITY?!
GATE AGENT 3
Calm and quiet:
Sir, I’m sorry I can’t call a plane back once it’s departed the gate. There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.
CRYING GIRL
I’m gonna dieeeeeeeeeeeeee!
JAMES
To GATE AGENT 3:
Now what? What do we do?
GATE AGENT 3
Well, you’ll have to rebook at the Royal Air Maroc help desk, right over there.
Points to a long desk adjacent to the gate.
ENTITLED RAGE
Screaming:
Arrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!
GATE AGENT 3
Sir. I’m calling security.
ENTITLED RAGE
CALL YOUR FUCKING MOM FOR ALL I CARE!
ENTITLED RAGE storms away to the help desk. The rest of the passengers follow.
Blackout.
Scene Two
CASABLANCA AIRPORT. ROYAL AIR MAROC HELP DESK. 2:30 P.M.
ENTITLED RAGE
You there. Hey!
HELP DESK AGENT 1
How may I help you, sir?
ENTITLED RAGE
Our flight just left without us. We need to rebook.
HELP DESK AGENT 1
OK. Well, that was the last flight to the United States today. We’ll have to rebook for tomorrow.
ENTITLED RAGE
What the FUCK?!
CRYING GIRL
Excayuuse me, sir. We—like, all of us—need to get back to the United States today. Can you make that happen?
CRYING GIRL gestures to the whole group, which consists of: ENTITLED RAGE, SWEATY WHITE GUY, QUIET LADY, OLD COUPLE, BRITISH TWINS, PREPPY, AND JAMES. The whole group begins shouting, “Yeah!” and jostling each other in a clump, trying to get to the front of the line.
BRITISH TWIN 1
OY! Now you listen up, mate! Oim talkin’ to you! If you fink me ’n moy sister are shackin’ up in Casablanca fen you’ve got anuva fing comin’!
BRITISH TWIN 2
That’s roight! Moy sister could sock you into next week, bruv! Don’t let’s be a cunt!
BRITISH TWIN 1
Don’t be a cunt!
QUIET LADY
Whispering:
I’ve got to get home to go to work.
SWEATY WHITE GUY
Yeah, me too! Gee whiz! Jiminy Cricket, it’s hot in here! Y’all got any AC in this joint? Sheesh! Gadzooks!
Begins fanning himself with his passport. QUIET LADY looks from him to BRITISH TWINS with silent derision.
PREPPY, a tall, quite handsome gentleman in business-casual attire, steps forward to the front of the line.
PREPPY
OK, everyone. Stay calm. Sir, as you can see, we’re all here because we’ve missed our connecting flight due to delays. We are in dire need of getting to Boston. What is the best way to achieve our goal?
HELP DESK AGENT 1
I’m sorry, but there aren’t anymore flights today. We’ll provide you with a hotel room for the night and get you rebooked on a flight tomorrow.
ENTITLED RAGE
NO! YOU CALL THAT PLANE BACK THIS INSTANT, GODDAMN IT!
BRITISH TWIN 1
That’s roight! Call it back roight now!
HELP DESK AGENT 1
OK. Let me go speak to my colleague. Please wait.
HELP DESK AGENT 1 stands up from behind the desk, puts on his coat, grabs his folio, and walks away slowly, disappearing into the exit doors.
PREPPY
I’m pretty sure he just left.
CRYING GIRL
Wait . . . what?!
She begins moaning and sighing.
SWEATY WHITE GUY
Impossible. Wait, where is everyone?
PREPPY
I don’t know. It’s weird. The airport is completely empty.
ENTITLED RAGE
What the fuck is this?! The Moroccan Twilight Zone? Where did he go?!
BRITISH TWIN 2
Oi fink he up and left! Wivout a word! That twat was very rude!
BRITISH TWIN 1
Rudest bitch eva.
SWEATY WHITE GUY
Wowzers. Quite the vocabulary. I’m going to go look around.
SWEATY WHITE GUY dashes down the hallway, his shirt soaked through with sweat except for two spots surrounding his large nipples.
JAMES’S IPHONE
Sends a photo to DAN’S IPHONE of a long help desk, completely devoid of agents.
The help desk is lit.
So many people working.
Lol.
We’re all just milking around shouting, “DOES ANYONE WORK HERE?!”
DAN’S IPHONE
Milking?
JAMES’S IPHONE
Sorry, typo. There are some amazing characters here.
People were getting violent.
I wanna write about it.
Blackout.
CASABLANCA AIRPORT. ROYAL AIR MAROC HELP DESK. 3 P.M.
A woman in a Royal Air Maroc uniform enters and makes her way to a chair behind the help desk.
QUIET LADY
Whispers:
Do you work here?
CRYING GIRL
Are you like gonna help us? Do I live here now? Is this my life?
(Life pronounced luh-ee-yif-uh)
HELP DESK AGENT 2
Yes, I’m here to help. My name is HELP DESK AGENT 2 and I’m amazing. I’m your savior and basically Moroccan lady Jesus.
ENTITLED RAGE
Throws hands up and gazes to the sky.
Praise HELP DESK AGENT 2!
HELP DESK AGENT 2
My benevolence shall require each of your passports. My goodness knows no bounds.
Each passenger hands over their passport.
SWEATY WHITE GUY returns from his airport sojourn. He is completely soaked through.
BRITISH TWIN 1
Did you go outsoide, bruv? Izzit raining?
SWEATY WHITE GUY
Who’s that?
CRYING GIRL
It’s our guardian angel! She’s going to help us! Her name, should you like, deign to utter it, is HELP DESK AGENT 2.
SWEATY WHITE GUY
Huzzah!
Hands over his passport.
HELP DESK AGENT 2
OK, listen up, disciples. I’m going to rebook you on a flight tomorrow at 4 p.m. to New York City and from there to Boston. No more bellyaching because this is the ONLY option. You want to get home alive? Then listen to me. You’re going to exit without your bags. They’ll be loaded onto your flight tomorrow automatically. You’re gonna get on a shuttle bus and go to a hotel. A shuttle will pick you up in the morning to bring you back here. I’m all you’ve ever needed. Praise me.
ALL
In unison:
Praise HELP DESK AGENT 2!
Blackout.
ACT THREE
Scene 1
CASABLANCA ROACH MOTEL. CHECK-IN DESK. 5 P.M.
The travelers enter the motel looking bedraggled and carsick. They either have only their carry-on luggage or no bags at all. They are greeted by a chipper, cheerful man at the check-in desk.
ROACH MOTEL CONCIERGE
WELCOME TO THE CASABLANCA ROACH MOTEL! You are lucky to be here. Better than sleeping on floor of airport, no? Important information: there is bar. That’s it . . . hahahahaha!
CRYING GIRL
But like, where are our rooms-uh? I’m so tired-uh.
ROACH MOTEL CONCIERGE
I’ve got your keys here. One for each of you . . . unless any of you are sleeping together. Hahahahaha! Now listen, there is bar. You need good drink and foods before going to rooms. We have pasta without sauce and bread from last year. Very delicious.
ROACH MOTEL CONCIERGE gestures across the hall to the bar, where a bartender is brandishing a loaf of dry bread in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. She accidentally drops the bread and it makes a loud thud! and lodges itself into the linoleum floor.
Blackout.
Scene 2
CASABLANCA ROACH MOTEL BAR. 7 P.M.
PREPPY is standing at the high bar with ENTITLED RAGE as JAMES groggily approaches.
JAMES
Hey. I almost fell asleep, but then realized I wasn’t drunk yet.
PREPPY & ENTITLED RAGE
In unison:
Same.
JAMES
To bartender:
A Jameson on the rocks, please.
ROACH MOTEL BARTENDER is a mime. She emphatically gestures and does open-mouth smiles a lot. She pours JAMES his beverage and he joins PREPPY and ENTITLED RAGE.
As she hands JAMES the Jameson, the travelers freeze and the lights switch to a hot pink. ROACH MOTEL BARTENDER launches into a very brief rendition of the Pussycat Dolls’ “Bottle Pop.”<
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After her number, the lights switch back like nothing ever happened. The travelers unfreeze.
I’m JAMES. Funny how we’re just getting to names.
ENTITLED RAGE
Hey. I’m ENTITLED RAGE.
Extends a hand to JAMES.
PREPPY
And I’m PREPPY.
Also extends a hand to JAMES. The three of them perform a cartoonish crossed-arm handshake and nod at each other.
CRYING GIRL emerges from the elevator and walks over to the bar to speak to the gentlemen.
CRYING GIRL
Umm, like the rooms are made of tile. Like all of it is tile-uh. I couldn’t go to sleep yet.
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