(Three actors on stage, wearing white sheets. A approaches X who is watching Y contort body into weird shapes)
A: What is he doing?
X: He’s fashioning himself into a duck.
X: You see that little speck there? He seems to be pretty amused.
A: (Visibly disturbed. Takes moment to compose self) Let me explain to you how this works. We, are clouds. We, are free flowing droplets of ice and water suspended in air. We don’t form shapes for the people dwelling below. They discern shapes in clouds… What is he doing now?
Y: I am rearranging myself to resemble a phallic-shaped object.
A: And pray, why?
Y: You see that middle-aged woman sitting by herself, with a cat on her lap?
Y: I’m messing with her mind.
A: You can’t do that! You mean, you’ve been arranging yourself into oblique
A: phallic-shaped objects just to mess with people’s minds?! This is… this is… morally repugnant.
X: Dude, what do you think we did to Freud?
Y: Oh look, punk kid, spray-painting graffiti on walls. Hey kid! Do you know what those things do to us?
X: CFCs man!
Y: Look, sunset!
X: Oooh… trippy colors!
Y: It’s the aerosols!
X: The aerosols! They’ve ruined it for us! Give him the finger.
Y: Oh yeah, I’ll show him…
A: Ok, stay calm stay calm. We don’t want to get angry, no dark thoughts or dark clouds. Could set off a storm and ruin a beautiful morning. Think light white thoughts.
X: Man, that’s like a total work of art. I mean the juxtaposition of the erect middle finger to the index…
A: STOP IT! (takes deep breath) Now, clouds... We do not signal gestures of obscenities to people living below. We… are noble celestial beings. We rise above such petty behaviour. We come from a noble lineage of cumulus…
Y: Man, look at that dumb dog. Why’s it barking at me?
X: I dunno. Cuz you kinda look like a cat?
Y: Yeah? Could be cuz of the cat-ear-like projections here. Maybe if I…
X: Dude, that is so cool. You look like a rabbit now.
Y: Still barking. Maybe it’s a hunting dog. Heh, let me do a bone. That’ll just drive him wild.
X: Oh man, that’s brilliant.
A: Happy thoughts happy thoughts… White fluffy thoughts… No dark stormy thoughts clouding my mind…
X: Man, look at that babe!
Y: And look at the guy she’s with. What a loser!
X: Do the penis, do the penis!
Y: One erect phallic symbol, complete with ginormous head, coming right… up!
A: Breathe… Flow… Glide… Auuuuuuuuuuummmm….. Auuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmm…
X: Geez, just look at that guy! He doesn’t know where to turn.
Y: And look at that chick blush!
X: Dude, do the tits, do the tits!
Y: As Howard Hughes, so eloquently put it… I want clouds. Like giant breasts full of milk!
X: Man, that’s priceless!
Y: I know! Now the guy’s turning red.
X: I’m so loving this!
A: Think of a gentle summer breeze… Drifting slowly over serene mountain tops…
X: Do the position!
Y: Which one?
X: All 69 of them! The cumulus Sutra. I wanna see them cry.
A: Arrrrrrrrrrrgh! (Grabs heads of X and Y and knocks them together. Lights out. Sounds of lightning and thunder. Sound of Rain)
A: Oh crap.
This was a short sketch that I wrote and performed @ pif (installment one) at Madras in December 2007. Anyone wishing to use these, please do ask for permission and give the author (erm, me) due credit. I am just a poor girl though my story's seldom told.
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