My Musings

This text is currently hidden by a css change. Alow's me to go directly to the category description because it is editable in the front end,
Font size: +

Gun Farce

This play I'm going to write is a farce in the traditional sense of the word: a comedic fugue, it is populated by pretenders, dunces, and asses; lots of doors are involved; there are several cases of mistaken identity.

The setting is a medical office building in a Brookline brownstone. Characters from every segment of society intermingle as they come in and out of the building to see doctors, dentists, shrinks, etc. and exchange pleasantries – or not – with the security guard in the lobby.

One thing we quickly discover: everyone is packing heat. Guns keep going off inadvertently, shooting out a lamp right next to a dozing homeless guy who's allowed in momentarily to warm up, blasting the hat off the bald, blowhard Doctor Mump, who keeps giving the wrong advice to teenage girls about acne. Needless to say, the mingling of these nutty, gun-wielding characters is hilarious.

The security guard is named Marcel. He’s French Canadian and a little down on his luck. Most recently, he worked security for the Canadian strategic maple syrup reserve, but for obvious reasons lost that position. Marcel takes the loss of that plum job in stride, believing that he can turn the experience into fodder for a play about the funny people you meet working security in a U.S. office building. Like everyone else, he’s packing a piece and is ready to draw at a moment’s notice, but his aim is bad, and he ends up hitting lots of light fixtures and the occasional ear or pinky finger. (Marcel is also tasked with replacing the light bulbs that keep getting shot out and calling for an ambulance when someone loses a toe to an errant bullet.)

At the climax of this farce, a teenager with a scarf around her face, which conceals the hideous results of an improperly prescribed acne drug, finally corners Doctor Mump and draws her gun, just as he draws his, Marcel draws his, and the people in the elevator that just opened up draw theirs. In quick succession, guns go off and everyone is hit, except Marcel, who walks away unscathed with a great script!

Bike Trax
The Status of My Beer


No comments made yet. Be the first to submit a comment
Already Registered? Login Here
Thursday, 29 February 2024



J'Biden Era Haikuage


People's Arms. That's right!

200 million shots

In 100 days


We are good people

But we still have far to go

Repair. Restore. Heal.


There's nothing new here

The Affordable Care Act

We're restoring it 


America's Day

Democracy is fragile

The world is watching 


Strategy is based

On Science, not politics

Truth, not denial



Subscribe To The Blog

Produce This Audio Play!

Ever wanted to produce a radio play?  Think you have the mettle?  Read on!

Tag Cloud

Politics As Usual nukes Snow Guns Wind NPR Drumming Tom Waits Grass Skiing New England Work Soccer Brain Surgery Candy Christmas When I die Barber Shops My sisters Canadiana College Bob Dylan First World Problems Communication Channels Brewing acerbic high school principal Weather Car Dealerships The Past Motorists Elvis Presley Masks US Senate Reese's Peanut Butter Cups BB King Halloween Email Plastic plan mid-winter vacations Art Mass General Hospital Beer Ukraine Advertising Earth Soviet Union Good Reads vacation Climate Change The Old Days Audio Higher Education Guns and Ammo Reveillon 1980s Cats midwinter vacations Existential Crisis Bicycles Bill Monroe Belgian Ales Hurricanes Music The Future Rabbit Hole Yeast Mom and Dad tambourrine Head injuries Soup My Parents Hand Planes Joan Jett coronavirus Ice Dancing Bunker Spice Girls Vaccines Hache Verde Texting Soul Coughing winter Putin Football gathering throngs Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde Rock Bands Quebect soapbox rantings high winds Trump baseball Mustard Bands I haven't seen Ketchup COVID TV Emergencies Stairs Allergies Bands I've seen Bodysurfing Martinis Sugarbush Theater Eating and Drinking China Eclipse Real Estate Religion Skiing town square Me Things I've done Marketing Gimmicks Food Spoon the band NFL Cars Imaginings People I know Royal Stuff The future Mike Doughty seasons cornhole Knots Skating Fiction afterlife Boston Liz Phair Big Shoes the sea technology Chowder Vaughn My Estate Audubon Bar Roommates I've Had Coyotes Stories I should write Hawaii Sports Biden Butterfingers Folk Music Teeth War and Peace Bands I've Seen Syracuse Them Kids Cornhole star Europe Bikes Short Fiction Peacekeeping Scotch and Sirloin Ticketmaster Diseases COVID-19 Red Sox Pats weather My grandparents Canada Hot Air Balloon the future Accounting Golf curling shoes Zoom Godfather punk music Dad advice