Amanda and Laura sit frozen at the dinner table upstage. Tom walks out on a dimly lighted stage and stands in the center. A spotlight turns on stage R on the fire escape. Tom looks over at the light.
TOM: Da fuck?
Tom shakes his head and walks over into the spotlight. He stops and pulls a small ceral box/bowl from his pocket and a carton of milk from his sleeve.
TOM: I have Trix in my pocket... and milk up my sleeve... huh, how did that get there?
Tom shrugs, opens the cereal and pours the milk in he looks around and then carries it over to the table. He sits down with the others and picks up a spoon, eating while he speaks. Amanda and Laura remain frozen.
TOM: These numbskulls here think their lives mean something. Nope. We were put here by some strange llama god as an experiment to see how fucked up he or she could make us. Kind of like Job, except with less testing of resolve and more Nazi-style testing. Trying to see how close we could get to the edge before we snapped in half like a strip of measuring tape you stretched out to use as a sword. This play is memory. Being a memory play, a lot of it has been replaced by drugs and alcohol. So I'm sorry if you don't understand what's going on, I blame the education system. My bitchy mother and my quiet sister... quite opposite of each other. And me, somehow caught in the middle. Eventually there will be another guy. That's everyone. No one else. Anyway... we're gonna start now.
Light go up and Amanda and Laura become animated.
AMANDA: Why Laura I- Tom, where did you come from?
TOM: Oh, um...
AMANDA: Nevermind that, Laura, The Jehova's witness came by our door today. Well, I was tired of telling them that we've already accepted Christ into our lives-
TOM: Like hell we have...
AMANDA: Tom, chew your food.
TOM: No.
Amanda stares at Tom, waiting for him to repent. Tom stares back at her, then leaves the table.
AMANDA: Excuse me, you're not excused from the table.
TOM: I'm smoking.
AMANDA: Is that all you do? You come home from work every day and all you do is smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke, smoke. Why, you're absolutely useless around here.
TOM: 'Cause, you know, I don't love you, you don't love me, I'm not the sole provider of money in this house...
Laura rises.
AMANDA: And just where do you think you're going? Seat yourself, child.
Laura sits. Tom looks at Amanda.
AMANDA: Don't you look at me with that tone of voice. What do you think, you can just act insolent whenever you want? Why do I have to have such worthless children? Oh! Not you, Laura, I didn't mean you! You do plenty, like, um... Oh, fuck, you're worthless, too. No wonder no boys like you.
Amanda rises from the table and exits to the kitchen stage R.
