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performed at Annex Theatre's Spin The Bottle (A small waiting room with two chairs. Seated at one of them is a dour-looking man in sweat pants, a t-shirt, and big fairy wings – THE TOOTH FAIRY. After a beat, a bedraggled man in a dirty Santa outfit – SANTA CLAUS – is shoved onstage.) SANTA: (shouting offstage) Hey, watch the fucking suit, asshole! You smug shitfuckers can't keep me in here! I want to talk to my fucking lawyers! I want my fucking phone call, you ignorant fuckwads! FAIRY: (low key) Hey buddy, you might want to lay off the profanity. They don't really go for it around here. (A long pause. SANTA turns, burning with rage, to face FAIRY.) SANTA: (all De Niro) Who the fuck asked for your pansy-ass opinion? FAIRY: It's fairy. SANTA: What? FAIRY: Fairy. Not pansy. SANTA: What's the fucking difference? FAIRY: Well, a "pansy" is a disparaging reference to an effeminate male. A fairy, on the other hand, is me. (He indicates wings.) Get it? SANTA: (incredulous) Oh man, I should have known. I'm locked up with a fairy who actually likes to dress like a fairy. Of all the fucking- (FAIRY jumps up & gets in SANTA's face.) FAIRY: (emphatic) I don't dress like a fairy. I am a fairy. I'm a full-blooded member of the hidden kingdom of the fey, devoted servant of Titania, and official spokesfairy of the Order of Millennial Sprites and Pixies. I'm a fairy. Get it? SANTA: Man, shouldn't they have you in the psych ward instead of the general lock up? FAIRY: (pause) Just where do you think you are? SANTA: (looks around) Dunno. Can't remember what city I'm in… they all kind of blur together after a while. County lock up? City lock up? (FAIRY shakes his head, laughs, sits back down.) SANTA: It's probably just gonna be trespassing… maybe drunk and disorderly, but my lawyers can get me out of anything, believe me. FAIRY: You're not in jail. SANTA: Huh? FAIRY: You're not under arrest. (pause) You're dead. SANTA: (pause, then shrugs it off) Get the fuck out. FAIRY: What's the last thing you remember? SANTA: (tries to recall) Hmm, lessee… well, I was pretty shit-faced, I remember that. I went down this one skank-ass chimney where I knew I could get some more Wild Turkey for the road… I was just about to sneak back up the chimney with the hooch when I heard a noise behind me, and then… (turns slowly to FAIRY) I got hit in the back of the head. Really hard. With a fireplace shovel. And then I just… went black. FAIRY: You went dead. (gets up, goes to SANTA) I know, it's disconcerting isn't it? (offers his hand to shake) I'm the Tooth Fairy. SANTA: (dazed) Santa Claus. FAIRY: (shakes his hand) Kinda figured. (sits back down) SANTA: So this is… heaven? (A man in a crisp white suit enters with a briefcase – ST. PETER..) PETER: Not exactly. This is Adjudication Room 112,319,439. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Peter. (pause) Saint Peter. (pause) I'll be your adjudicator here. I don't normally do adjudications – we leave that to the lesser administrative hosts. But what a strange and marvelous coincidence that two celebrities such as yourselves would wind up entering the afterlife on the very same evening! I just had to meet you both. Please, make yourselves comfortable. (SANTA sits as PETER pulls manila file folders from his briefcase and begins reviewing them.) PETER: Now let's see… where shall we start… well, Mr. Claus, I'm just very excited to interview you, but I do realize the Tooth Fairy has been here several hours longer, so in the interest of fairness- FAIRY: Oh no, don't sweat it. PETER: Really? FAIRY: Oh yeah, no problem. PETER: You'd do that? FAIRY: I would, really. PETER: That's just fantastic, I'll be sure to make a note of that. SANTA: (furious) Wait, this kiss-ass motherfucker gets a special note for that? (Long pause as PETER looks askance at SANTA.) SANTA: What? FAIRY: I told you. The profanity thing… SANTA: (chagrined) Oh, right, profanity, right. PETER: (opening SANTA's file) Yes, I see here thirty-eight profanities have been added to your record since your time of death alone. SANTA: You've been… keeping track? PETER: Well, Mr. Claus, in case you hadn't heard, some of us actually do keep track of who's naughty and who's nice. (PETER begins laughing uproariously. SANTA joins in, and the two of them laugh for a while together. PETER eventually stops, while SANTA continues laughing inappropriately for a while, until realizing he's the butt of the joke, and then, at last, he stops.) SANTA: Now look, before this goes any further, I thought… I thought I had kind of a "get out of jail free" here, seeing as how I'm actually a saint. Is that not true? PETER: That's an interesting point. (referring to file) It says right here that "Santa Claus" is really just an alias for a certain Saint Nicholas. SANTA: (proud) That's me. PETER: Patron saint of seafarers, scholars, bankers… (SANTA nods along, still proud)…jurists, brewers, coopers, travelers, perfumers, unmarried girls, and children. FAIRY: Wait, unmarried girls? SANTA: It's not what you think. FAIRY: Well, what is it, then? SANTA: Look, shut the fuck up about it. PETER: And now it's thirty-nine profanities. SANTA: Oh, come on, I was provoked! PETER: Mr. Claus, how many cheeks do you have, exactly? SANTA: Two. PETER: May I suggest you consider turning one? (Pause.) SANTA: Huh? PETER: Never mind. Why don't we just take a look at the full record, shall we? FAIRY: This oughta be good. SANTA: How would you like those wings shoved right up your ass? PETER: Mr. Claus! Focus please! This could take a very long time! I have several pages dedicated to the topic of "Elf Abuse" alone! (Pause.) Now, Mr. Claus, you are in a unique position with respect to our organization. After achieving sainthood for miscellaneous "good deeds," you eventually became a pagan icon, distracting attention from the divine birth of our Lord and Savior by delivering millions of trite and disposable "gifts" to the children of the world, is that not the case? SANTA: (pause) Well… I mean, that's one way to look at it, sure… PETER: And is it not the case that you eventually came to abuse your sainthood and your position by flying your magic sled all around the world throughout the entire year and not just during the celebration of the birth of our Savior? SANTA: What, uh… what exactly do you mean by "abuse"? PETER: And is it not, in fact, the case, that mere moments before you were brutally bludgeoned to death by a fireplace shovel in the home of one Ted Bailey of Davenport, Iowa, you spent several minutes peeling back the covers on Mr. Bailey's wife, Stella, and gazing lustfully upon her negligee-covered body for several minutes, before attempting to steal Mr. Bailey's Wild Turkey and flee back into the skies toward an orgy you knew was scheduled for less than an hour later in Racine, Wisconsin? SANTA: (desperate) Oh. Oh, okay, I see what this is about. Look, let's be clear, Mrs. Claus has gained three hundred pounds in the last fifty years alone- PETER: (he puts SANTA's folder away and grab's FAIRY's) I'll have to chew on that one for a while. In the meantime… why don't we examine the file of our other august personage, shall we? I have you registered under the moniker "Tooth Fairy," is that accurate? FAIRY: Well, I do have a secret fairy name, but if I told you, I'd have to kill you. (FAIRY begins laughing uproariously. PETER joins in, and the two of them laugh for a while together. PETER eventually stops, while FAIRY continues laughing inappropriately for a while, until realizing he looks like an idiot, and then, at last, he stops.) PETER: What do you remember about your last minutes, Mr. Fairy? FAIRY: Uh, please, you know, just call me Tooth. PETER: Right. FAIRY: Or Mr. Fairy, you know, it's really up to you. PETER: Right. Mr. "Tooth"- FAIRY: See, that works, I'm okay with that. SANTA: (makes smooching sounds) FAIRY: (indignant) I am not an ass kisser! PETER: (surprised) I see, an actual profanity- FAIRY: Now wait just a God damn minute- PETER: That counts extra! FAIRY: No wait, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, that was just a joke- PETER: It was a very costly joke! (Long pause.) FAIRY: Well, I mean, look… I have lots of quarters I can throw at this problem, if that's what you're suggesting. PETER: Please answer the question on the table, Mr. Tooth, if you would. FAIRY: Right. Right, uh… last thing I remember. (He saunters forward. Stage goes dark except for a spot on FAIRY down center; smoky jazz music comes up in the background.) FAIRY: (all noir-y) I remember tip-toeing into the room, past the dog, past the idiot father sound asleep at the tube with an episode of M*A*S*H finishing up. The door was cracked and I pushed it open silently… it's just something I do. The boy was lying there on the bed, sound asleep as I expected… and I could sense the unfettered tooth sequestered underneath the feather pillow. I could feel it throbbing underneath the boy's head. I moved closer, withdrawing a shiny new quarter from my man-purse, one of the new quarters from New Hampshire that everyone loves so much, and I quietly, carefully, slipped my delicate, gloved fingers underneath the pillow, desperate for that precious, young incisor. Soon I had the tiny, bloodied mandible stump in my fingers, and I felt an impossible wave of longing flow through me. I knew this boy's teeth were special. I knew I couldn't stop with just one. I reached into my man-purse, searching for a tool I'd never used before, but one I always knew I'd use eventually… Titania's gleaming fairy pliers lit up the darkened room, and one by one I began extracting the boy's remaining teeth, alternately yanking them free from his jaw, and covering his screaming mouth with my hand, until at last I had wrenched every last tooth free from its customary nerve housing. And then, as a glorious, bloody rush flowed through me… (Lights return to normal, music fades.) FAIRY: (shakes his head, returns to seat) Well, that's the last thing I remember. SANTA: What happened next? PETER: The boy's father blew his brains out with a shotgun. FAIRY: I could have been quieter, it's true. PETER: (slaps folders shut and begins packing briefcase) Well, I think that covers the interviews. It's been a real pleasure to meet you both. Sadly, we really don't have any openings in our organization for individuals with records like yours, but I'm quite sure you'll find yourselves right at home trapped eternally in the bowels of hell. Now then- (Suddenly an adorably cute young girl in a bunny suit & bunny ears is pushed onstage. Her eyes are wide with fear. Everyone freezes.) PETER: Do my eyes deceive me, or is that… (He opens his briefcase and digs out one more file, opens it, confirms with elation.) PETER: Goodness gracious, it is! My dear, welcome, welcome, welcome! We've been waiting for you for such a very long time! What an auspicious day this is! Let me personally welcome you to heaven! If you'll just come with me, I'll introduce you to the management right away! SANTA: Hey, wait a minute, who the fuck is that? FAIRY: Why does she get such special treatment? PETER: (smiles broadly) This, my friends, is the Easter Bunny. Our Lord and Savior will be very pleased. (pause, then with a hint of vindictiveness) He loves the taste of rabbit. (PETER exits, escorting BUNNY. Lights fade.)
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