| Commentary and Philosophy Script posted May 7, 2017 | Chapters: |
...8 9 -10- 11... 
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Prose Potlatch Challenge-Growth
A chapter in the book Scripts
I'm Going to Tell Teacher Part IV
by michaelcahill
Previously: Michael has passed away unbeknonst to him. He finds himself in an office unaware of how he got there or why he is there. He's shown to a large ampitheatre where he encounters his sixth-grade teacher. He takes a seat and she proceeds to interview him. As time passes, he begins to realize he's arrived at some kind of judgment day. Scenarios unfold before his eyes as the ampitheater transforms and crowds appear then disappear. We continue now has a scenario as just concluded. His teacher congratulates the participants as Michael agonizes over what has just unfolded: Act IV Fade in Michael is slumped in his chair as Janice passes out cigars to the various cast and crew of the last production number. Janice Wow. Dora, you were simply regal. You actually appeared to care about the wretched creature approaching you. I don't know how you did it. Dora Oh, it was nothing. Hell, he was human too ... well, almost. Janice and Dora burst into laughter joined by a joyous crew. Michael begins to redden with anger. Michael Yeah. Ha, ha, ha. So witty and urbane. Lots of compassion there while I sit here humiliated. I suppose that every moment of my life was just some illusion or delusion on my part. Every time I tried to do good, it was just one big crap pile of sympathy for poor pathetic me.... Janice, Dora and the others pause to listen to Michael. They stare blankly for a moment as if stunned by his response. Michael sits up in his chair a bit, seeming to await a response. The response comes in the form of even more uproarious laughter. Janice Yes, the world's been sooooo unkind to you. Poooooor baby. Dora How 'bout a dance to lift your spirits? The laughter continues. Michael would disappear if that were possible. Janice walks towards him, rises to the tips of her toes and then alights in her chair delicately. The stage goes dark and silent. Janice The subject feels as though he may not be able to trust his own thoughts and feelings. His world is a topsy-turvy spinning wheel of conundrums and enigmas spinning in concentric circles spiraling out of control. Am I sputz or am I a fluvalhofel. Am I a schtuzal or a weinsterbrauten? These are the questions drinking the finest Tasmanian Devil Ale in his brain. Well? Michael Well what? That's supposed to make sense to me? Or should I be amused? You're telling me my perceptions are not to be trusted. My gesture for some chick in grammar school was really her gesture for me. Your saying my memory of being a somewhat cool dude is nonsense and I was really a hideous barely tolerated freak. Is there anything I remember correctly? Are you playing Freud? A big joke? Janice Two hungry men dig in the dirt. One pulls out a diamond, one a potato. Who is rich? Michael Yes. Okay, I wrote that. What does it have to do ... Janice It is you. All of it is you to one degree or another. A bit of truth in it all. Some, a lot of truth. By now you know where you are and what is taking place. What is your assessment? Michael My assessment? Of what? Janice You know of what? Michael Hmm ... okay. I honestly ended up with very little I'd have to say. I had a lot of talent, I guess I developed it to a degree. But no, I didn't pursue it anywhere near like I should. I suppose I could've been a great success. I guess the potential was there. I was a nice guy. But maybe I was afraid to be anything else, I don't know. I didn't have the whole "ambition" thing in me. I lacked drive most would say. I just couldn't see walking all over somebody to get what I wanted. I couldn't see trashing someone else for my own benefit. Well ... those are excuses, I know. For all of the gifts I was given, I ended up without a dime and I doubt anyone will remember me except a few family members and a couple friends. What do you want me to say? Fine, I failed. I took all the tools in the world and I didn't build a damn thing. Janice Ahhh, so that's your epitaph then: Failure? You didn't do a damn thing? You didn't grow? You amounted to nothing? Michael Hey, you think I like the sound of it? Janice Okay then. It doesn't quite match the way we assess things. But, if that's the way you see it, I guess I can't talk you out of it. Michael No. Wait. I'm more than willing to be talked out of it. How am I supposed to see it? I'm only human. I was born, I grew, I lived, I died and then you add it all up, right? Janice Yes, I suppose that is what humans do. Is that all of it then, born, lived, grew, died? How did you grow? Michael I don't know. It seems there's more. Grow? I made mistakes, learned. I passed on what I learned or tried to. I don't feel like a failure. Whatever I should've acquired would still be there, left behind anyway. So, what good would it have been anyway? I always thought I was a good person. I thought of myself as a nice guy, kind. I thought people saw me that way. Janice Oh, well, see, now you're looking at things from our point of view. We DO see things a little differently you can imagine. All of this is in your mind, of course. Things you value when human, wealth, fame and the like mean nothing here. We are concerned with the spirit. Michael Oh, maybe there's hope for me then. Janice You're about to find out, dear Michael. It was a great pleasure to be your teacher and a small part of your life. This was fun as I knew it would be. Walk through the door now. They are all waiting for you. Michael They? Who is ... Janice Your fellow spirits, Michael. Who else? Michael stands and walks towards the door. He looks back and sees nothing but a hazy mist. He opens the door. A roaring cheer fills him as he enters. He can't say he hears it, he feels it. He feels spirits familiar and unfamiliar surrounding him. The feeling is love. Love is everywhere, inside and out. One of them greets him. It's like speech, but not audible. Spirit Welcome, Michael, welcome. Well done, so very well done! Fade out The End
Note: The picture of Mary Kay Letourneau is just for fun and for the folks who might recognize her. It has NOTHING to do with the play. Just a bit of twisted humour. :)) Link to part I click HERE Link to part II click HERE Link to part III click HERE Prose Potlatch: Write a piece in any format. The top c, GROWTH, however you wish to interpret it. Anything from a inspirational story to a garden to a script about someone's expanding waistline. Any tips or suggestions on my continuing crash course on script writing would be appreciated. You've all helped a great deal. I'm feeling a little more comfortable, but I still feel like I'm mostly writing a simple story. I need to be more scripty and less short story-y. LOL 
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