 You know, I don't know how long I've been in the police, but I've been in the police department for three months now, and I've been in the police department for three months now. I've been in the police department for three months now, and I've been in the police department for three months now. I've been in the police department for three months now, and I've been in the police department for three months now. I've been in the police department for three months now. All right, I think we're going to take that part. I just want to remind everybody first, please turn off your cell phones. Because that's just not fun. And I wrote things down so that I wouldn't stand up here and go um, ten times. And I want to welcome everybody who's watching at home doing a live stream project. So Haloran has been awesome and anybody else that they're thinking about live streaming their project, they've been so incredible to work with. So thanks to Haloran. Thank you guys for turning in. Just in case you're wondering a little bit about Little Black Dress Inc. We're a female player. It's a producing organization. This is our third year doing our female playwrights on stage project. Started as one production in Arizona a couple years ago. I invited some female playwrights that knew that we're awesome. I asked them to send me their plays. A couple of them are in this room again now, which is really great. And we've grown. This is the first year we had a national call for plays. We had over 100 plays submitted. We utilized a peer review process. Which means that each of the playwrights that participated not only sent in their work, but then read and evaluated each other's plays. Which makes the process theirs as far as I'm concerned. So the results were we had 28 semifinalists who were read in Ithaca, Santa Barbara, Ithaca, New York with Acting Out New York. We had Kate Burks from who's here who handled our reading in Santa Barbara. She's fabulous. And we also had a reading in Sedona, Arizona with Red Earth Theater Company. And then a reading in Waco, which I coordinated with the Waco Civic Theater. We're hoping to grow. If you like what you see, please visit the website. It's littleblackdressinc.org. And find out how you can get involved as a playwright, as a producer, as just a fan. We love you all. Last things to do. Oh, I want to thank the LATC. We are at the Los Angeles Theater Center, which is a fabulous downtown venue. Not only does the LATC do a lot of really awesome work, they also produce a lot of female playwrights, which we really like. So thank you. Also want to give a shout out to the Los Angeles Female Playwrights Initiative, which has been a very big supporter. So thank you. And if you're at home and you want to tweet along, we're going to be tweeting at L Blackdress Inc. You can find us there. It's going to be scrolling across the screen. I'm going to stop talking so we can watch these fabulous plays. Thank you so much. Seeds of Rebellion, written by Kay Coyle. Dark stage, sounds of the tapping of a typewriter. The tapping stops and lights up on three characters in Tableau. Josie, female, dressed in a poodle skirt, sips a milkshake. Owen, male, dressed as a 1950s juvenile delinquent, leans against the wall. Older character wipes down an imagined counter as if it's a bar top. Is she gone? Like it. Thank God. The characters look relieved and come alive. I don't know which one's stiffer on this skirt or this plot. I like this story. Me too. She's off to a cracking good start this time. You can't literally see the headlights of literary mediocrity barreled in torsion. All I see is she's writing another play and we get to be the stars. Yeah. Another ten minute play. What do you gotta give to ten minute plays? Gee, I don't know. Main character dressed in a poodle skirt, sips a milkshake. First of all, my name isn't main character. It's not? Yeah. Do you really want to spend ten minutes wiping down that bar? Can we at least get a real set? Hang on a minute. Miss it might not be that bad. Yeah. It's only page two and lots of writers don't fill in the names till later. No, not yet. She builds you up only to slice you up with the knees. And if you make it to the end, do you think there... What can anyone possibly learn about me in ten minutes? Calm down. It's only the first draft. Young man's right. You could find yourself with a name yet. Not many folks out there want to hear the story about an 80-year-old war horse. You are 80? An 80-year-old widower. Been plugging away for the last four years in different drafts. A few months back, I almost made it through a suspense piece. I was a superhero once. You don't say. I've got it. I have a plan. She produces a black beret, places one on her head and hands out berets while talking. We are more than just characters. We have motivations, thoughts, fears, loves, and we need to show her. I mean, who are you? Really, do you even know... I like to dance, and I like mid-century modern furniture. And I want to travel to Tibet and hunt the yeti. Yeah, that's me. He lives on this beret. And my name is Owen. Welcome to the family. Pauline was a fan of the mid-century modern. Was Pauline your wife? Yeah. Back then, it was just called Danish modern. The sofas, the tables. Great color, shapely legs. Pauline, not the tables. She had this infectious laugh. I was stationed outside Paris during a war. I picked up a little bit of the language. I apprenticed with a pastry chef, too. You were in the war? Oh, yeah. I even kicked around the city for a couple of years after the liberation. That's when I met Pauline. Pauline, no, no more. The older character places the beret on his hand with purpose. Infantryman? Husband? Pastry chef? Wilfred Forbes! Jose and Owen offer crisp salutes. Wilfred returns us. So, Miss Revolution, you care to share your grand plan? It's simple yet effective. At the end of it, you are going to hunt the Yeti, and you are going to make the best darned... Pan-o-chocolat you've ever tasted. Right. And if I can't beat Jose in a full-length play, fine. But I'm making it to the second draft, if it kills him. But how do you know she's going to cut us? She's only five pages in. Trust me, she always does this. But I know the warning signs. You don't have anything to worry about. She's giving you a name. When she wants to get rid of you, first you lose your name, and then your part gets smaller. Smaller? How small? Saying less and less until BAM! You're out of here! And the scariest part, she doesn't even... This time might be different. She could change. Older characters slowly rises and wanders away. Wait, Mr... Mr... Mr. Lee, come back! Older character disappears of state. Where's he going? Now, do you believe me? Oh boy, what's going to happen to us? Where am I going to go? I don't know how to do anything else. Oh my God, what if she writes something set in a forest? What about my seasonal allergies? I'm a dead man! Jose slaps him. Ow! Join me! Assistant's out! Together! She writes go left, you go right. She says upstairs, you go down. Guess not. Sounds approaching footsteps. Now's your chance. Follow your dream. Act now, live forever with regret. Oh, look, it doesn't work. Oh, here she comes. Sound of a door opening. Footsteps coming closer. Me on your post, and remember... Oh, and not solemnly as they go back to Tableau, wearing berets with fists raised in the air and a defiant salute. The end. A room that took great taste and equally great thought to make it as perfect as any living room can be. A sofa dominance. It faces a flat screen TV whose volume is turned down. A door stays left leads to the outside. An open door on the opposite side leads to other rooms. At rise, the room is empty. Naomi enters, tearing a shopping bag. Sorry, I'm late. It was an accident, something involving a motorcycle. Looked awful. They were loading it onto a stretcher right as I drove past. I tried not to slow down, you know, out of respect. God, it's a poor mother. In small plates of food, she places on the coffee table. They also ride between cars, which is a fucking death wish. What? Tell me about wine. Shit. Don't. I was rushing. Have we ever watched election returns without it? Honestly, I am not myself lately. I'm all over the place, and you're like, Chloe, did you get a peel? Oh, I'm so glad you're back. I am listening without you with a nightmare. Former Libertarian. She kept preaching about taxes. I found myself pointing out pot holes and asking if they'd fixed themselves. Don't ever leave me during the last two weeks of an election again. The West Coast numbers are coming in. Okay, it's official. I'm hitting the hard liquor. Tamara exits the other boat. Naomi suddenly dives for the food, shoveling great fistfuls into her mouth. So, trip was amazing. Oh my God, Reese's Paradise. I couldn't stop eating. The fruits, unlike anything you've ever experienced, figs, like candy, better than candy. And tomatoes, not all shiny and perfect, but real. Oh, delicious. Until you get any coli. And the people, so warm and welcoming. And did they work? Of course they did work. A lot. They're just not obsessed with it. Americans always think they're the only people... Oh, look at those numbers. Oh, they're even better than predicted. Oh my God, I'm so happy you're back. That's not why I'm drinking. Well, I brought something back for you. It takes a random gift from a shopping bag. Hands it to Tamara. Stop it. Tamara rips it open. It's an evil eye pendant. An evil eye. Loving it. Really? You like it? Of course. It's blown glass, but it's not like... Thank goodness. You can put it in your car. Oh, please. I'm the least superstitious person on the planet. Oh, look at that margin. Not one of the pundits predicted that. What the fuck for? I don't know. To create good energy? Speaking of, any vacation sex? Well, yes. But there's something I would also like to do. There was vacation sex, and I'm only hearing about it now. It was such a small part of the experience. Between the beaches and the fruit, it was like... Wait, wait, wait. Nature, dry spell. What's he? Nicos. They're all Nicos there, right? I want details. Sure, I can't make a dream. Oh, thanks. Whatever. Easy. What's he? A guy. I met him at one of those beach sites to burn as they have everywhere. But that's not really what I wanted to tell you. It's in all the beach. But if the beach is rocky there, why can't it be comfortable? I didn't. We didn't do it on the beach. She goes for more food. Eat much? I'm pregnant. I had to tell you in person. The truth is, I probably shouldn't be telling anybody this early, but have you not told your best friends something that's monumental? That's just... Crazy. It is, right? It's really kind of a miracle. Exactly. So, how do you tell Nicos? Send a note via carrier pigeon to Miesgril Island? Oh, sure. You sound sure, but if it's early... I'm sure. How? I know it's totally out of the field. I guess I'm having a hard time engaging your reaction. I'm just shocked. In a good way. You sure? Yes! It's a miracle. It is, right? Oh, I knew the second after it happened. I can't explain it. I had this wave of dizziness right after. A tsunami, really. A tsunami. A good tsunami. A clearing out of the old to make way for the new. Then the next day I felt this intense happiness and I felt it every day since. I can't describe it any other way than to use words I know you loathe. Believe. Bliss. But then who isn't happy after they get laid? Look at Navarra. Those assholes don't have a clue what's good for them. They'd rather elect a king than allow abortion. Look, I'm for you something. I didn't think it was possible anymore. It's really kind of a miracle. Yeah, you said that. And in a miracle, if you actually want a baby, I do want a baby. I didn't think I did, but now I do. Okay, I'm a little worried you're hating me right now and I'm not entirely sure why. So do me a favor and say something. Making fun of the breeders with their baby hand nicks and their high-op pink strollers. How they suddenly get religion, even though it's been scientifically proven that if you have unprotected sex, there's a good chance you're going to get knocked up. Like I said, it's weird and almost impossible to explain it out. I mean, look. Congratulations. That state is filled with fucking idiots. Apparently, archivisting didn't do a fucking thing. It did. It created a certain energy that causes change. If you can't see it, you're going to be fine. Anything about wanting a baby? I seriously had no idea and I did until now. Like you said, we laughed at those people. Rebecca Gorman, who committed high crimes to make five beta capital only to get married and breed like a prized spaniel. I'm not like them. You have to believe me. This tea, it feels right more than anything ever has in my life. Oh, Christ, there's a huge part of the story I haven't told you. I wish you'd come back, paint the word, but it felt like destiny was deciding for me and I was just going along and it was so freeing to not have to take everything upon myself for once. If it means anything, I think Nevada won't really make a big difference, you know, country-wide. We did good work there and we'll continue to do it even if I have to walk around in a hundred degree heat with a baby strapped in. I am really scraping the bottle in the barrel drinking this shit. But I have to say, it's doing the trick. Nevada, who cares, right? I mean, it practically doesn't make sense. So, when's the wedding? I mean, since you're joining the ranks, there's gotta be a man's wedding in the near future, right? Kelly Lilly's at Vera Blaine? Oh, God, no, no, wedding. Just, that's what I want to do. A lavish ceremony of Nicos's for most great idol? It's not, well, it's not his. Nicos isn't, he's not the father of the baby. Where did you go on vacation again? To a med school in 1975? You know, you remember I told you about my ex-boyfriend, Steve? You fucked him when you went through New York. He wasn't exactly... Phil, are you sure you embraced that dry spell? Did you meet him during your layover and do it in the airport bathroom? Tecara! I'm just asking, because that would deserve a medal of some sort. Seriously. We met for lunch in Brooklyn. I hadn't seen the guy since 1990, so it was weird. No, not weird. Fine. Like, nothing had happened in 20-something years or that a million things happened and we needed days to talk about it. Next thing you know, we're listening to a band in the park and it was crowded, but there were all these people just, you know, enjoying the music and the glories of New York Day. So, when we got pushed together, it sort of made sense. He put his arm around my waist and then... So damn groovy, and then... Please, don't make fun of me. This is hard enough. Please. It is. You're sitting there looking at me like, like, I'm not sure who you are anymore. I'm the same person. You have to believe me. We were two reasonably attractive, highly intelligent women opting out of city cops and designer diaper bags. We were starting a trend and you don't fuck with a trend. In a minute, you're gonna have a baby shower and I'll glance across the room and see you looking so comfortable, fitting right in. Of course, I'll be the one throwing it. So I'll spend a lot of time in the kitchen pretending the food needs tons of attention and I'll drink a lot. I need you. Sure, my mother can come for a few months but she's not. I can't have anyone. Everything happens because you research the hell out of it and then get a great deal on rice wine. What the fuck does that mean? I'm drunk. Some things just happen on their own and you go with it because you know you're never gonna get the chance to take on something so much bigger than yourself again. And besides, if the decision had been left to you you might not have made it. You know I don't buy any of that pop spirituality. That's my point, T. What is? What is your point? Life. Moving with it. Accepting it. Accepting people. But it's not just me. There's a whole lot of change going on out there and you're fighting against it. The yoga retreat. You acted like I was joining a cult. It felt like you were. Didn't they call it a weekend with the goddess begin? This is happening, T. I need you to catch up. You, a cult parent. No, dumbass. I'm a friend. And what if I don't want to? I hate that fucking world. That's not the point. Everyone's gonna think we're lesbians. You know, whatever. You're really going to do this, aren't you? It's what he said. Holy hell. Look at this. It's too close to call. Lights dim, end of play. Ended by Anne Hamilton. Lights up on the salad standing in a podium. There is ambient noise of many people in the room shifting in their seats. There is a very exciting atmosphere. First of all, I want to thank you all for coming to the first meeting of Ogo Farmer's Emerging Network. Today is an auspicious day. We will band together as farmers and distributors to grow and sell only female-centric fruits and vegetables. Hence, open. Ovo Farmer's like the egg. But without eggs, we won't grow eggs. We are vegans. Let me back up. My co-founder and partner, Kate Mann, and I, decided to start this organization after looking at our plates one afternoon at lunch. What did we see? Cucumbers. Braised squash. Carrots. Italian eggplant. And what did we think? Are we eating all of these fallow-centric food people? How many times does the farmer's man's penis have to be shoved into our face before we wake up? We take back the fields from the mail to provide everywhere with a source of food they can truly enjoy, literally shoving its penis down our throats. We will grow only. Are you ready for this? Bell peppers. And, of course, movement. As we take back the garden, take back the farmer's markets and tomatoes, the lettuces in all kinds of eating and oath and diet. Maybe we're just listening to the aggression in males and females. Investing in this way of life. An increase in empathy. Neighbors will stop shouting at neighbors. Road rage will decrease. Speeding. Well, that might become a thing of the past. But it starts with the sugar snap peas. And yes, your email so we can keep in touch. And how we need you. Our vin and vigor. Say hello to a new way of life. Thank you very much. Welcome, welcome from the audience, written by Jen Husion. Man 1, 2, and 3 sit in lawn chairs and drink long-neck bottles of beer. They're dressed casually and comfortably with shorts and t-shirts. On stage, the cooler holding more long-nets and two or three plastic pots with newly transplanted flowers. She won't come back. She won't come back. No. No. She won't come back. How do you know? She won't come back. She said she would. She left instructions. Plants. She left instructions. I've been watering. Dillion instructions. What? What? I've been transplanting. You did that? I dug it up. You? Internet. Layer of dirt, layer of mulch, layer of dirt. Here, I'll show you. Two jumps of flower pollen to the stage. You're killing it! I'll repot it. See? Dirt. Mulch. Dirt. But it's all mixed up together now. Yeah. That might not be good. As three and two finish off their beers, one goes to the cooler, pulls out three long necks, pops them open, passes them out. Thanks. Two takes a drink, then puts the beer aside so he can gather up the dirt with his hands as he attempts to repot the flower. Did you pot this one? First one I did. Soil is dry. Dry? Means water. I'll get the watering can. Two takes a drink of beer, puts it down, changes his mind, picks it up and carries it off. I have some extra seeds if you want some. What? Seeds! I have seeds! Who do you want the pot of? Two overwaters to pops. Careful. Did I get you? No, no, no, you're good. One puts the pot down. I have been growing my own food. Carrots, beans, cucumbers, peppers, organic, no chemicals. I have extra seeds. No thanks. I prefer flowers. You can't eat flowers. Some of them you can't. They're impractical. They make me smile. You're not doing this because of her, are you? No. Nice, that's something you can watch grow. You can watch vegetables grow. Yeah, but one day you'll have to eat them. That would be a sad day for me. They are plants! They don't have seeds. They are plants! They don't have souls. Do they? How do you know? Because they just don't. You're drinking plants right now. Yes, yeast and hops grow out of the ground, my friend. Maybe I could grow grains. You might not have enough space back here. I could make my own beer. Oh, there's an idea! Cheers to that bag! Three falls asleep and his beer bottle falls to the floor. I know. Let him sleep. He's had a hard time of it lately. He's going to run a bad luck. It's good for him to get out of the house. You could bring the TV out here. We could watch the game. Good idea! That's why I'm here. Yes. A parked bench in the city. Autumn, early morning, just after dawn. The sound of dawn's first birds. Lights up on Mariah, who walks up. Sits on the bench. Pencil in hand. Sketchbook on her lap. She isn't drawing, but looking out, deep in thought. All of a sudden, Sadie runs in. She's wearing jeans, hoodie, and baseball cap. She's breathless. She sees Mariah. Sadie tears off her hoodie and cap and throws them in the trash can. She's wearing a stylish shirt and her long-haired tumble's down. She sits on the bench, closes Mariah, and puts her arm around her and leads her head on the shoulder. Mariah looks at her, but doesn't move. Sadie takes a big gulp of air to stay her panting and holds it. A policeman enters, running. He stops, looks around, and runs out again. Sadie waits, then exhales. He looks off in the direction of the exit income. Let's just say that was a close one. Thanks. I appreciate you going along. I am just not in the mood for a night in metropolitan lock-up, so thank you. I'm not a thief or a hooker or anything. You're not anything? Excuse me? Well, you just said I'm not a thief or a hooker or anything. You take out the hooker and the thief and you just said I'm not anything. Again? Thank you for not giving me away. I really shouldn't hang out here under the circumstances, so you have a nice morning. Mariah. I'm Mariah. Nice to meet you, Mariah. Well, if you're going to pose as my daughter or lord or my granddaughter, if that was the plan right, then you should at least know my name. Okay. Have a lovely day, Mariah. And you can tell me yours or I guess. I'm Sadie or Sadie K. S at K. Sadie at K. That's where I go by my writer name. I mean, that's what we call writing being a graph artist, ever. Okay. Anyway, see you around, Miss Mariah. You can flirt with me. It would save you a lot of time and keep you from having all those visits to the detention center. Look, I'm not a criminal, Mariah. I'm an artist, an activist, and my art is not always appreciated by de-establishment. It's not your art that we'll trouble with. It's your canvases. A public property I'm part of the public, right? What I do is for the public. She sees someone coming and quickly sits back down next to Mariah. Mariah looks off to the direction Sadie was responding to. You can just remember how to fly. You avoid all this drama. If I could remember how to fly, that's right. Sadie sees the sketch path. Hey, are you drawing? Can I see? Sadie gently reaches for the path. Mariah allows her to take it. She pages through it. This is yours. You're an artist, too. Very cool. Well, I draw. My goal is to make art. And I'm practicing. I'm always practicing. You can call yourself an artist. That's the difference between our generations of black women. Confidence and the claiming, humility serves no one. Well, I'm the same age as Oprah. And 10 years older than the first lady of the United States. My generation is doing just fine. And I'm just fine. It's you that has forgotten how to fly. Yeah, you keep saying that and I'm thinking she has dementia or early onset Alzheimer's or something. Oh, she got some. Sadie continues to look at the drawings. You're into birds. That's cool. Your drawings are really beautiful. Seriously, gallery quality. I'm just not that kind of artist. I have something to say. My art is political. Make it beautiful. Make it personal. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. No, that's the personal part. Let's just agree to disagree about this one. Got to fly. Diego Rivera. He was a political artist last century. Huge murals, whole walls and sides of buildings. Yeah, okay. Great artists, very prolific. Thousands of paintings in his life. In museums still all over the world. His political stuff is interesting and David. Simon turned out to be not such a great guy. And then there was Frida Callow, his wife. I know her. I know her stuff. Mexican or something, one eyebrow. Or some. 200 paintings. That's it. Everything she did revealed what in her was desperate to fly. She flew. So you don't mean literally fly in the air like a bird. You mean to rise above or release your spirit or hope flows or something like that. Something like that. I tell you, if I could fly it would make my job a whole hell of a lot easier. You ever hang upside down from a gutter with Suddenly Mariah holds up her hand for Sadie to be quiet and still. She points to something out in front of her. Mariah begins to sketch. Sadie sees something out in front of her. Slowly next to Mariah transfixed on the view. Oh, where did he come from? He must be lost, huh? I never seen a bird like that around here. He comes every day? No way. Check him out. Mariah sketches. Sadie is transfixed by a bird. Oh no, where is he going? What do we do? I don't know. Birds fly away. Sadie, they just always do. So that's why you're here so early to see the birds. Hey, why don't you take a picture a photo and work from that? Seems like it'd be a whole lot easier than waiting. Well, I don't make pictures of birds. Well, I say this is personal. Sadie looks at the sketch path of Mariah's lap. Looks like a bird to me. Mariah hands Sadie her path. Sadie looks through and studies one of the sketches. I wait and I watch and I listen. So many tiny sounds in the morning quiet. I see that bush right there. The one with the tiny bright green buds. And then I let that bush see me. Look at that yellow tree right over there. See? Really see. Penetrated with your sight. Now let it see you. All of a sudden, that tree has a lot going on for it. Am I right? A lot of days I come here and I don't see anything. It all seems random and senseless and, boy, I'm pissed off. Yeah, I know about being pissed off. Every so often I have a split second of communion with this and with that. When I put what I can down here, my work is political too. And I take my politics very personally. Sadie looks back down and I get it. I can see it here. The way of it. The hoping. The moment of delight. That split second of connection that it's got. Loss. And the memory of when it was here before it was lost. Which brings you back to hope, yeah? That's it. Right here. And beyond. All at once then it's gone. And you doubt it was ever there. Maybe you made it up. That's really depressing, Moriah. I don't believe it has Russian power. It is. But when I feel that thing inside me, something bigger beyond me, I'm so very okay. It happens to me most very early in the morning. Just after dawn. That's the magic time for me. I guess for you it's in the dead of the night. Oh. I work at night because no one's watching. You know, to not get caught can't do what I do in broad daylight. Or maybe the moon inspires you. Why not get still? Moriah sees a cop coming. I think your friend is back. Yeah, I don't care. So you come here every morning right here? Well the birds and I have an agreement. No way. Rainy days we work on other things. And your family doesn't mind? I'm sorry. Me too. The cop enters. Oh, pay him no mind. And how could something be beyond me and inside me at the same time? But I'm working on it. The cop sees clothing in the garbage can and picks it up and looks it over. And now that you don't give a hoot about that maybe because you're working on it too? Maybe I can join you. You know, some of the orders. You can come and purge here any time you want. Now that you can fly. Hey you, over there. I want to talk to you. Say to see something out in front of her and powerfully holds up her hand. She points in front of her. Right there. Mariah starts to sketch. Oh. Where did he come from? They all look at the bird. Lights. And fancy tomatoes written by Tiffany Andrew. An overturned picnic table protects two jets. The first wearing a hollowed out watermelons and helms. Flushing a small wooden box. They cower as strawberries, apples and a squash fly at them from a distance. Tiny is impeccable. You couldn't have chosen a more dreadful moment to the second. You never specified the worst. I really think that. I mean, I have no part in things really. This can't be good for a man. You want to make a run for it? You go ahead. A splat. A woman quite small and comes on carrying more ammunition. You really threw the pooch this time, George. Do you think I'm being discriminated? You wouldn't. It's really a low respect. Very domestic. I'll pass her by. I shouldn't even be... They can sense distress. I never speak to them above a whisper at home. What do you think this will do to them? Splat. Oh, my God, she's discovered the tomatoes. What? Really? Veldman Pizza's head up getting hit squarely with a red, ripe tomato. George grabs him, inspecting the carnage. It's just a feasting. Damned it from his face in horror. Then fascination. He takes a taste. Oh, dump. Three beers. Salting. The nibble of the fancy tomato. He smacks his lips in appreciation. And one more. So thin. So delicate. That's way too delicate for a rainbow. But the sweetness. Followed by a tangy, like a tangy aftertaste. Almost like a black... It's not at all like a rainbow. What are you doing? You're crossbreeding. You want my little muppets to be party to this debate. Oh, what, Veldman? Stop smiling. He makes her run for it. Or a crawl. He doesn't get too far. George lashes onto his foot. And Janine pelts his head. To begin stuffing tomato. I have always loved... Maybe I do. But it's only because because you is... You love me so right. Because you, you, you are so amazing. You take care of everything that I forget to... To thank you for it. And you are such an amazing caregiver and housekeeper and breakfast maker that I... Revolution. Here, I take it for granted that you are doing all these things for me and I'm sorry. I need you to keep me in line. I need you to tell me that I've been in the garden for four hours and it's time to spend some time with you ladybits instead. In the second job. Uh, um, what? You spent all of our money on plant seeds. It comes! Uh, Veldman. He's choking for... George takes a deep breath, leans down, pinches Veldman's nose and blows. Bits of tomato and strawberry go spraying out the sides of his mouth. Janine knocks him out of the way. You've got to fish all that crap out of there. First you're just going to blow it deeper into his lungs. You're going to get that money back. You're flying first class. Janine! And I want the window seat to now blow! George takes another breath, leans down, pinches and blows. Veldman! She slaps him. George blows again, miraculously, Veldman coughs, breathes, rolls over to his eyes. He looks him fiercely in the eye. There's no tomatoes in heaven, George. He picks up his little brown seed box freddling in close to his chest. Where do you go? I can without feeling guilty about it, okay? Yeah, are you alright? I want to see George. He's alright. Italy will be my slice of heaven. George looks at his wife, looks at his tomatoes and finally looks to Veldman. Veldman, I... We must make your hybrids. Well, Janine is kind of having a meltdown. What did you say? What did you mean? Well, Veldman pulls a chair from his cottage, tears it to shreds, Janine collects them joyously. There are more important things in this world than money, George. I see it now, stretching out before me like a never-ending farmer's market. Time is precious, too precious to waste on petty grievances. Me and the seeds are in this for that glory. The fame. It's great. It's beautiful. Yes, it's great. Oh, cool. It's so good, huh? Your face is clear. She got the clarity of all of this. It's great. I really like that. I want you to want it out a lot. You guys can take it out. You'll die. Yeah. There's a biggie coming out. Yeah. Hey, how's it going? How's it going? How's it going? Yeah. Yeah. It's really magical. Look at this thing. Okay. I don't know. It's kind of like a pruning. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. Yeah. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's so stunning. Yeah, so great. It's amazing. Everything I saw was really cool. It was amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. It's amazing. I love it. Why didn't you get up there? I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm going to show you some of the things you can do to help you get out of this. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I'm loving it. I have never asked nor have I desired anyone to refer to me by my rank since I retired 20 years ago. Wow, okay, got it. And your ship was... I can't tell you that. Top secret? Nuclear naming. I could tell you, but... Then I'd have to kill you. Your secret's safe with me, Edward. Now if there's nothing else, I really need to... If it's not secret, how come you have the found anchor sticker on the windshield of your Mustang? Leave me alone. But get out of here. I've got it. Sorry, sorry, my life. I just can't... I can't... Deal with me, I know. Neither can anyone else. Don't worry, it's okay, I'm used to it. Later, that's what they all say. The neighbors, the guy on the fishwalkies, my mother. It's not my Mustang. Skip with the urn. He holds out his hand. What urn? The one at your hand. Oh, oh, sorry. Skip, let's go Edward's hand with the urn. Thank you. I thought you wanted me to... I never would have, you know, if I hadn't thought you wanted me to. Hey, you okay, buddy? I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. What am I supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now? Drove that Mustang over the country. Dropping off the charred bits of my heart, as instructed. The last off this balcony and into the sand and the sea. Now what? Edward waved the now empty urn. Here, no, no, let me get that for you before you feel it. It took me 20 years. No. It took me until 20 years ago. It took 60 goddamn lonely years to find the love in my life. I wasn't expecting to fall in love, Skip. When I got to Omaha after I retired, Omaha was pretty landlocked. When an old salt retires, he throws an anchor inland as far as he can, and wherever it lands, he's home. You are a real sailor. Yeah, you look pretty fit now if you don't mind my saying so. I bet you could still throw an anchor all the way to Omaha from San Pedro, California. It was right down the shore. We thought we'd be able to see San Pedro from Marina del Rey. That's why we bought the condo sight unseen. Palace Verdez is always going to make San Pedro sight unseen from Marina del Rey. That's for sure. Why? 25 years younger than me. We both always thought I'd go first. I'll never forget when we met at the Omaha Blue Lagoon Bar Luau, we always kept the first photo of the two of us on the mantel. And Rick pulls a photo out of the moving box Skip brought in and stares at it intently. Oh, what a... Skip. Great for children. He's a little taken aback. Oh, what a night indeed. Quite a... quite a... handsome woman. So handsome. Beautiful... lips. Great hair. It's not everyone who can look good in a grass skirt and coconut bra. That's for sure. Heart attack. Gone. Just like that. How long has it been? A year. A year last Monday. Only one thing to do. Please don't tell me to get on with my life. No, man. We've got to get you drunk and laid. Skip, as a great bar, right down the street, sell us some little gals and put the wind right back in your sails. Skip, I can't. No, hey, not another word, I understand. A little problem with the old mask. Oh, well, just put one of those little blue pills down your hat, you'll be able to shoot for both court and sovereign. Skip, a lot of my life. I mean, I never had a love of my life. Never could find me a gal who could give me the kind of, oh, the real love and understanding and companionship that we all enjoyed in the Navy. Those great fellas. Those long months at sea. I mean, even as they did all eventually say, get out of here, Skip, I don't want to talk to you anymore. Can't you see I'm taking a shower? What are you, antsy boy? I insist you listen to me. You may, maybe. No woman has ever come even close to those days and nights on the ship. I never found the one girl in it. Poor, and I'm just like I'm sure your life was 20 years ago. Now that you're a single sailor again, it's time to just follow my lead and we're at my right, at my right. Yes, sir. Yes, the love of my life was a handsome woman. The most handsome woman in my life. That's because her name was Milton. Milton, you understand? Ensign? No, sir. I don't think I do, sir. The love of my life was a man, Ensign. A man. A man? A man, a man! Sit it out loud, Milton. You didn't live to hear it. How can you not be alive to finally hear me tell the truth? Brasca! Wellington Jones, the third, the most handsome woman in Omaha. President of the Ladies Garden Society, lead alto of the Garden Gals Glee Club, is a man. Was a man! And I will love him forever. Permission to speak, sir. No, Ensign. Permission to listen. Listen. Yes, I have one of those Nancy boys the name he was full of. The ones you hated and feared. One of those sailors from Don't Ask, Don't Tell, forced the lifetime of secrets and lies until now it's too late. It's too late. No, Ensign. Permission to stay. Stay and listen. You may think I'm less than you are every day I'm alive, but by God I will not rank you until the day I die. Say yes, sir! Yes, sir! Nobody in the seashore, any of the neighbors, looking at us like you're looking at me right now. Permission not to look you in the eye, sir. Permission not granted. I think our love was as foul as the foul anchor. Unnatural? Well, it wasn't, Ensign. You know what Milton called it? Stop shaking and listen to me. It's my knees, sir! Didn't keep an eye on that damn organic garden of his. And let me tell you something before I release you, Ensign, because I'm going to release you and you'll be free to say any goddamn thing before you run out that door and disgust me. Milton, sun shining on that ridiculous straw hat he always wore in that crazy garden, he used to harvest the biggest zucchini in town and say, Edward, Edward, darling, they may not know it, but our love is as good as theirs. It is certified organic. Certified organic. Oh, whoa! Bomb say it, Skip. Permission to speak frankly, sir. As frankly as I've been speaking to you. Seller to seller. Man to man. Man to man. I'd really like to get it out, Skip. Say it! I'd really like to take a ride in that house tonight. What? Top down. Top down. With you. With me. Made this statement down before. That was better than a navy. That was nice. That was. Wasn't it? Let's drive down to the Paradise Bar in Walm Beach. That old gay dive bar is still there. The last time I checked. And you want to take me? No! Not take you there for me. I want to take you there for you. See, if there's anyone there who puts the life back in the old lighthouse. I'm a one man, man, Skip. Maybe. But from what I understand, friends get friends late, sir. And whether it's with a gal or with a guy, I think you need to get late, sir. I don't know about that, but if we're going to be friends, you need to call me Edward. Can I? Can I take some keys out of his pocket? Just drive, Edward. It's not like it's... What was that again? Certified Organic. Yeah. Certified Organic. Certified Organic. Sir. Edward and Skip go through our door. End of play. A black comedy about a most absurd reality written by Jenny Webb. Jane stands next to a tall pedestal table in a crowded Starbucks like coffee spot. She's drinking from a covered paper cup. We hear business bustle around her along with traffic and street noises in the background. The woman looks out front through a window onto the street. A lot's going on. She checks her phone, someone's late. No one's called. No surprise. Lynn enters with the cup. Not hampered by the people around her. She moves directly to the table. No word? Nothing? No, but she does this all the time. Not calling? She mostly calls, but she's always late and there's always a fabulous excuse. She had someone on a date last night, so maybe it'll be extra fabulous this time. What's a somewhat date? Movies with a friend. A man, but just a friend. So that's not a date at all. With her you never know. I don't understand. Rebecca enters with the cup. Rebecca enters with the cup. She moves with the disturbing awareness of the close proximity of people around her, the chaos outside. Hey, you. I was right, wasn't I? Hot city in the night. Well, you look terrible. Nice to see you, too. You look like a woman with a tail to tell. No, I'm serious. You really do look... Be a doll and get her something, would you? Like what? To drink. That'd be great. Thanks. Get her what I'm having, tell them it's for me. But it's not for me. You know what, it's okay. And see if they have any croissants left? The chocolate ones. If not chocolate, berry or something, but not cheese. All right. Thanks. I sometimes think she lives on her own planet. So, given your questionable appearance, I'm especially looking forward to the story behind your 45 minute delay. I know. I'm sorry. Hang on for just a bit. Our guy-less friend has not apparently been pretty to even one of your extraordinary excuses what bizarre mishaps or accounts of barely missed buses we have in store this time. Yeah, I wish. I just noticed. You wore that last night all that. You didn't even go home to change you last woman in view. I... No, don't start yet. It's never a fifth of a second time. I love the third time. I don't know. I never quite got the charm name. But that's just me. I'm jaded. Right. No chocolate croissants. And no berry? No. So no croissants? No. We're all on the edge of our figurative seats. Beverage is in hand. Tell all. I'm sorry to let you down here. Not much to tell. I was raped. You were raped. Again? You were raped again? Weren't you just raped? I'm sorry. This year has sucked. It's the third time. What third time? This year. The third time this year. Right? Right. Yeah. You were on a date though. If it was date rape, that really shouldn't have happened. It wasn't date rape. It wasn't a date. Then it wasn't much of a friend. Even I draw the line at rape. Wait. You were raped. How did it happen? Same way. It always happens. Isn't it just me or do men act like a hell of a license these days? To rape? Well, it's how they were raped. I mean, they think they come with the equipment. Any pastries at all? So rape was your friend? No. He would never rape me. Well, that's certainly upside. Friends and rape get far too complicated. Scones. There's always scones for their scones. I don't. What did happen then? Nothing out of the ordinary. You don't want to hear about it. I do. We just went to the movies. That's all. Movie theater rape. Those floors are awful. That is a messy, messy rape. It was after the movie. Right after? I don't really do this, but I'd settle for a biscotti if it comes down to the toilet. No. It was late, so we thought we'd take a bus home. My friend and I. There weren't a lot of people around. We didn't give it a second thought. And we didn't notice until we got on what kind of bus it was. What kind of bus it was? Well, yes. A bus with curtains. What? They're very popular now, because who wants a public rape? Rape is something you do in the pricey of your home with the drapes drawn, or in the occasional alley, shuttered storefront, office cubicle, bathroom stalls. That's always a go-to. Waking up after a party, having no idea what happened until you watched the videos. I don't understand. Don't tell me you haven't seen the buses. Rape buses. Handy-dandy buses, strong with curtains built for rape. What, really? No, but I think the city prides itself on adaptive reuse. Sometimes it's hard to tell what they are, especially at night. We didn't notice the curtains or the men in the back until we were already moving. Oh, that's a hard road. Gang rape and traffic. Gang rape? How many of them were there? I don't... my friend tried to protect me. Oh, that must have pissed them off. How is he? How is he? I have no idea what an angry rapist is capable of. I bet they roughed him up something terrible. How are you? She's fine. Wait, but fine. And be honest on the excuse meter. She was raped for the third time this year. You're talking like that's some sort of a record. And my five men, all five... She doesn't get extra credit for that. When I was in my 20s, it was like every month I couldn't keep track of how much you'll get over it. We all do. How? What choice do we have? I mean, look around you. Yeah, this place is full of rapists. Rapists at the counter, rapists drinking coffee, rapists with baked goods. God damn it. The street is teeming with them. Oh, look, there's a couple I recognize now. I mean, stop acting like you've never been raped. Never. You've never kissed? Yeah. You've never kissed? You are in another world. You've never been raped. Not once. I don't know. But you have had sex. Of course. Consensual sex. That's still possible. I'm sorry to say it's hard, but you are. Why do I do? That's her life. You shouldn't have put it off that long. That's crazy. Real sex. What? What are you talking about? It's one of those things. You just have to get out of the way. It's easier. But why should it be easier? Why should it even happen? Look at her. For the third time this year. She looks like she's had enough. More than enough. Behind curtains. In dark corners. And on the street in broad daylight. In my own back. Pieces I don't even recognize. I'm not even sure they're still a part of me. I keep moving. And there's less and less of me. This year. Each year. Every year. We'll drink up. That's just the way it is. But why? Why? Because we didn't have to be that way. What if we lived someplace where rick wasn't the way it is? In your alternate universe where rick apparently doesn't exist. Or if it does. As long as it does. It should never be easy. Men should never be raised to think that. Should not be raised to think that. There should never be an excuse for anyone. There's a sign. Can you imagine? Artans taking them down. So everyone sees. Everyone has to. Getting on a bus. To some place you actually want to be. Invited a St. Pierre. A bare stage. Per a woman of indeterminate age. About distinct youthfulness. Stand center stage. Believe me. I put a lot of thought into this. The last thing I wanted someone to tell me. I shouldn't want it. I mean, yeah. Of course I'm a feminist. Who is it? But that's not. An all encompassing notion. There's no binding contract there. No. Constitution. Save the basis to human decency, right? Right. Because. She always told me about the choice. The choice. The woman's choice. But I guess she never considered what would happen. If I chose a choice she wasn't happy with. If I chose to choose you. The choice that takes me part way out of myself and into you. And frenzies my thoughts and makes me want to be the kind of woman she could hate. I choose it. I chose it. And I don't care. Broke the earth around my brain and till the soil and planted a seed. In the prefrontal cortex. Right between the eyes. One that took root and grew and soaked up blood and brain fluid until it flowered out my ears and eye sockets and told me things I could have. Should have. I have the choice. We have the choice. And we should choose to rev. Max out the odometer until the needle quivers beyond the delineation and prescribe limits. We've only ever imagined and not a generation ago would have never fathomed. Good! Of course it's good. Why wouldn't it be good? Extending down and twining with my brainstem and tracing my veins seizing my muscles and animating me from the inside out because she moved a lot of earth. Delicate flowers are not so hearty. She cankered my brain with a weed and just kept watering. I was no longer enough. I must be more. Want more. And shatter who I am when I'm with you. I'm not you fucking me. Victim of your violent penetration. That was all me. And I am not defenders of you but not quite part of you. We are only an amorphous entity from afar. I do want more. She wants me to have. I need to opt for another option. She shouldn't have provided it. I can handle being a woman she could hate by being a woman I can love that loves you. For now at least because I want this now and I may never want it again. The seasons wane and I just want to suspend myself at this precise axial tilt at this exact angle for just a little while longer. My head isn't the only fertile realm. So sew those wild oaks in me. Catch a seed on the wind and stick it in. Stick your finger into the hot wet earth and let it catch. Let it explode from me and the bamboo shoots skywards and let it carry us until we see the curvature of the earth let it grow from me and into you. Because I need a season outside of my own head because I love you. Choose it. Time now place New York City of Reese's Island. Lights come up on Dorothy's old but luxurious apartments. It is empty. Footsteps and heavy breathing as someone tries to unlock the door. There is frantic jiggling and hitting of the door. I can't get it to work! Damn it! Why is it the minute you put the key in the lock you immediately go you have to go to the bathroom. Suddenly from out of nowhere you have to pee so bad you think you're gonna die. It's always that way. It's so weird. Are you using the right key? Of course! Don't dare! Let me try! She rushes in and Louise on her walker follows slowly but both are wearing strange wigs. Louise a short blonde platinum and Dorothy a long bright red with bangs. They're wearing matching unitars with a stylish jacket and boots but they're torn, dirty and both look like they've been through hell. Hurry! I think we were followed! Hurry up! A thank you would be nice and old bones will go. Dorothy slams the door behind her and begins locking the door tight as Louise heads down the hall. Did you notice the dark blue sedan? We should not check our bags. No, no, no! You said two minutes to Paris. Dorothy examine the key. Unless you're in a unitard the thing you insisted we all wear the manny bird is stylish. Yeah, right. Looks like we made it with what? 10 minutes to spare. I thought the boys would be... It's an appointment with my therapist in five years? Do you think he believed me? You told him you were sick, right? Definitely him. Of course he believed you. You're always definitely him. It's been for me and I don't think there's anything wrong with keeping yourself monitored. I need to take my blood pressure ASA key. Dorothy takes a cuff off an end table and begins taking her pressure. Technology today. Let's see. Why don't we two days? Since you're all fine and dandy why don't you fix us a drink? I think you should. You already had two on the flight. You counted too many. You get a little loud, call attention to yourself and under the circumstances I don't know what I do without you watching out for me and seriously wonder how I lived for 72 years without your help. Damn boots off of me. Dorothy struggles to get Louise's boots off. We were on every news channel at the airport. Who can help you know even the driver was talking about it the whole country thinks they've been attacked by radicals. The boots come off. I've got to get out of these clothes a nice long hot bath is what I need but first the drinks. That girl. You know they had to put a spin on the deal. Middle eastern terrorists in the easiest direction they might think twice before they spin on old tree uggers. They've been touched that much and well well it was carrying hand grenades by the way they grabbed. Now there beware of the old lady with the tube of denture cream. Well here's some iron and have some stock in that oil corporation we just blew up. Oh. Money well spent. Dorothy enters with drinks. I'm not sure if traveling really suits me anymore. I used to adore new places. Montana? Not so much. What time is it? Who cares? We make it back alive. Louise switches on the TV. Interviewing that young kid not a clue that still can't hardly believe we did it. Cactus. Horticulturists. Collecting cactus specimens. The earth. I'd like to save their precious oil. Oh every joint in my body is on fire. You think the boys made it out? Maybe we should do something. I think we've done enough. They could be stranded somewhere or maybe maybe we should call the police. The highway patrol. The hospital something. Are you crazy? We are under the code of silence. Remember the pact? I can give a big damn about the pact. If anything happens to them. You are getting hysterical. I have a pill for that somewhere. You know we are in the silence mode. We can't contact them no matter what. We promised no calls. And the police? Are you kidding? We just blew up the largest oil field in the country. We might want to lay low for a few days. It's just like you to be in denial. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Thirty years you live with that cheap bastard and put on this act of the perfect married couple. That is still doing it. Our team could be laying out their bloody beating and all you can think about is your hot bath. I'm going to assume it is the tension of the moment I know all the age that is possible to lose your mind. Any time anyone speaks the truth about you they must be insane. I'm going to assume they must be insane. If you weren't in that walker look bring it on. You know they call you the black widow behind your back. I don't know for marriages, for dead husbands what would you call it? Watch your step. You can hand it up but not take it. I was a trophy. Louise and Dorothy are circling each other. I have spent the last four days listening to you complain about your non-existent illness and your stupid worries about your hair, your makeup your joints, your blood sugar my god who gives a damn and I'm just about had enough of that. I'm going to let you walk out of here now you better guess again. I'm going to let you walk out of here now you better guess again. I'm going to let you walk out of here now you better guess again. Louise jumps Dorothy and the women struggle awkwardly It's unreal. Overreacted You're not putting that back on. Who am I to stop you? So now you would? Time, maybe you're right. Men, they had one thing to do detonate and come home. Maybe they got kicked out. They're old and old is invisible. No one cares what three old dudes are doing in a beat up band. You're probably right. Factory next They killed dolphins you know. We're going to be involved next year we're going to do this again because we're that crazy playwrights, female playwrights we love you, visit the website connect with us on Facebook, Twitter we're all over the place. I do want to give a lot of applause to our fabulous directors Mary Jo Tre and Sarah Israel taking the corners of me like a rock star so lugging water I can't even, I'm so thankful. So we've got some playwrights here we have Jessica Abrams here.