Rami & Friends

Monologue (Rami)

I wasn't allowed to call or visit Kate while she was under house arrest. Will this be the end of our relationship? I'm assuming yes, but how would I know? I can't even talk to her.

No matter what, I was going to make a name for myself as "Rami Malek, the guy who totally nailed the monologue from Το αυγό αγόρ, the one act Greek play about.. I don't even remember at this point.

The monologue is from the character Vetruvius, the grand father of Το αυγό αγόρ, the egg boy. He is telling his son to come home and join him in the family goat offering.

I had studied the monologue for weeks on end, but last night my paper had gone missing. I went to go print it out, but my laptop lay shattered on the dorm room floor. I came so close to turning this property destroyer into the authorities, but I had absolutely no clue who had done it.

I glanced at the time- it was midnight!

God, I shouldn't have stayed up so long writing my brother Sami a hand-written letter. Those things take forever to write, you know.

Drowsy, I went to the school library, but it was closed. I had one option-to look for it online.

Sure, I could have easily just recited it from memory, but right now, I was full out panicking. I needed the extra practice if I wanted to get the credits I needed to graduate.

I had only one option-get it online.

The play is not well-known at all. Honestly, pretty much nobody knows it. But, my professor's grandfather wrote the original script, so of course she knows it.

I find some sketchy website that has a link attached. It leads to the monologue I need.

I read it, trying so hard to memorize it. It doesn't click.

Quickly, without waking up Sebastian, I grab a case of Mountain Dews from my mini refrigerator in the corner. I chug them one by one, as I memorize the monologue with my full memory.

It sounds a bit different than the one we studied in class, but I figure it's just a translation issue. It happens all the time from what I hear.

Through the morning, I study the monologue thoroughly until I can practically recite it backwards.

"Rami Malek," the professor says. "You're up with the monologue from Το αυγό αγόρ!"

I walk up to the front confidently. Standing in a comfortable, cool position with my arms crossed, I begin reciting what I had just memorized:

"Υιός, η αίγιά σας αρχίζει να πεθαίνει. Είναι πραγματικά λυπηρό, αλλά σε μισούσα ούτως ή άλλως. Ποτέ δεν θα αντέξετε σε τίποτα. Η μαμά σας έχει μια υπόθεση με ένα warthog. Είναι αηδιαστικό. Ο μπαμπάς σου μοιάζει με παράθυρο. Σε μισώ! Μπαγκέτα. "

There is no applause. What? I nailed that thing. I motion people to clap, but they just stare.

"Do you think that's funny, Mr. Malek?" The professor asks me from her desk.

"I thought I delivered it passionately and very well," I say confidently.

"Do you think it's funny to say that the egg boy will never amount to anything, his mom is having an affair with a warthog, his dad looks like a windowsill, your character hates him and then ending it with... baguette?!" My professor looks just as shocked as I do.

"I.. I didn't," I can't even talk. What? I thought I was talking about the goat sacrifice this whole time!

"Please leave, Mr. Malek," my professor says pointing to the door and hanging her head.

"Let me do a retake-" I plead, but I am cut off.

"In life you don't get a retake, Rami," she screams. "And you know how much that play means to my family!"

She points a stiff finger toward the door, and I heed her instruction.

I.. I don't know what happened.