The Unfinished Dialogues of Smith and Doe

Act One, Scene Three

[Scene lights turn on]

Doe: Should we quit at this point?

Smith: No.

Doe: Why?

Smith: We're writing something.

Doe: But shouldn't we quit being authors?

Smith: Are we really authors?

Doe: Explain.

Smith: How can someone really write for a living?

Doe: Isn't that what we're doing? I mean, look at this office we have!

[Doe gestures to the stage setting. A ceiling tile comedically falls onto the stage from the

rafters. Neither of them acknowledge it.]

Smith: We have it for a month. Besides a well-selling novel doesn't mean they're any good, and it doesn't make us good authors either.

Doe: Stop being a pedant, let's just write this book.

[Some time passes]

Doe: Why did we become authors?

Smith: We went over this already.

Doe: I meant why did we, as two people become authors.

Smith: Why do you ask?

Doe: I thought we hated each other!

Smith: So do other people.

Doe: Does everyone hate everyone, too?

Smith: Maybe, I'm not a psychologist.

Doe: So we do hate each other, then?

[The scene fades to black; when the lights turn on they are wearing different clothes and the trash is mostly cleaned up.]

Doe: It's been three weeks.

Smith: So?

Doe: All of our other books took days.

Smith: We can take our time.

Doe: Aren't we on the clock?

Smith: That would be a terrible foundation.

[Neither of them laugh]

[Beat]

Doe: I need a smoke.

Smith: You never smoke.

Doe: Like you even know me.

Smith: I do. I know how you smell, too.

Doe: We don't even like each other.

Smith: I never said that!

Doe: You never not said it!

[Doe looks at the shortened stack of reams]

Doe: We've gone through too much paper.

Smith: Not true.

Doe: It's a lot of reams to go through in a few days.

Smith: I think that's a bit subjective.

Doe: There's nothing on these sheets anyway.

Smith: You just don't see it, that's all. We just have to write it.

Doe: Is this your philosophy minor bullshit?

[A moment of silence]

Doe: I hate you. You are killing me.

[Doe puts in a clean sheet of paper.]

Doe: Could we write about language?

Smith: We did this bit already.

Doe: Why?

Smith: We're not linguists.

Doe: We're authors though.

Smith: Like that gives us authority over language.

Doe: It could.

Smith: Like hell it 'could'.

[Smith quiets down as Doe tries to write. Smith wipes their eyes with their sleeve.]

Doe: Your eyes are bloodshot.

Smith: I'm tired.

Doe: You're crying, what's wrong?

Smith: Fuck off.

Doe: Please.

Smith: Fuck off please.

Doe: You know what I meant.

Smith: I'm a failed author.

Doe: You're not.

Smith: I've never written anything good.

Doe: Yes we have.

Smith: Just keep writing.

[Beat]

Doe: Propose...

Smith: Yes?

Doe: Propose we actually make it with this story. Like 'own a beach house on a Carribean island' make it.

Smith: Okay.

Doe: What would we do afterwards?

Smith: Besides being modern-day colonists, we would continue writing.

Doe: But why?

Smith: We're authors.

Doe: But isn't there more to than just being authors?

Smith: Is there?

Doe: I'm not sure.
[Beat]

Doe: So letter and letter.

Smith: Yes?

Doe: There is a letter as in one you send to a friend and a letter that makes up words.

Smith: Okay.

Doe: Isn't it funny how one letter is necessary for the other.

Smith: Explain.

Doe: The letter for the mail is a collection of words which in itself is a collection of letters.

Smith: Huh.

Doe: Language is a strange thing.

Smith: What if I sent a letter consisting only of punctuation.

Doe: I suppose it is still a letter.

Smith: But you said letters necessitate the use of letters.

Doe: How can something necessitate itself?

[Smith sighs out of frustration]

Doe: You're no fun.