The NUTcracker

The NUTcracker

 

(An empty auditorium.  Rehearsals have just let out at Radio City Music Hall.  Strewn about the stage are various props including costumes, a dance bag, pages of scripts and a bottle of Zoloft.

AT RISE, CINDERELLA, 19, has just finished rehearsing for the Nutcracker in which she stars as The Sugar Plum Fairy.  It has been a long night, she is tired and cranky and her sorority sisters ditched her for a rooftop party at Sleeping Beauty’s place.

PRINCE CHARMING, 21, is sitting in the audience.  HE is the only one left in the theater as he anxiously waits for his girlfriend to finish getting ready.)

PRINCE CHARMING

(Looking at his Movado)

Come on babe, it’s already 11, we’re gonna be late . . . as usual (HE mutters to himself)

CINDERELLA

(Pissed off)

Oh my God, we’ll get there when we get here can you just chill?  It’s not my fault I’m the star of one of New York’s most beloved Christmas productions.

PRINCE CHARMING

(Trying to relax HER)

Since when did you become a Rockette?

CINDERELLA

(Annoyed)

You’re such an ass, make yourself useful and carry my crap.  I’m too tired.

(HE sits in the audience for a few minutes, purposely trying to anger HER, succeeds and motions to help her with her bags)

PRINCE CHARMING

Do you have everything?  I don’t feel like coming back here because you forgot a costume or something.

 CINDERELLA

Yes I have everything (opening the bottle of Zoloft and popping two pills into HER mouth)

PRINCE CHARMING

OK let’s go.  It’s gonna be impossible to catch a cab at this hour.

CINDERELLA

(Snottily)

What the hell do you mean a cab?  (rummaging through HER bag looking for her Blackberry) Didn’t I tell you to send for my driver after intermission?

PRINCE CHARMING

(Annoyed)

I’m sorry Princess, but your sisters were supposed to be your ride, remember?

CINDERELLA

Whatever, let’s jus . . . (pauses)

Wait . . . Oh my God where is it? (panicking)

PRINCE CHARMING

Where’s what babe?

CINDERELLA

My shoe.  Where the hell is my fucking shoe?

PRINCE CHARMING

It’s just a dance shoe.  I’m sure it’ll turn up in one of your bags sooner or later.  Let’s just go.

CINDERELLA

Not my dance shoe you idiot.  My other shoe.  My Manolo Blahnik.  Get up here and help me look for it.

(SHE paces around the stage tearing apart her dance bag, costume bag and anything else she can get her manicured hands on)

PRINCE CHARMING

(Rolls eyes)

Oh dear, Oh Lord, how can we ever go on.  You have five thousand other pairs of shoes babe.  Or you can just ask Carrie Bradshaw to lend you a pair.  You uptight city girls always have backups for something completely useless.

CINDERELLA

(Infuriated)

Oh shut the fuck up.  You know I’ve had a rough day as it is and you’re being such an ass.  Why can’t you just do what I tell you to the first time, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem.

PRINCE CHARMING

(Raises eyebrows)

Oh you’re blaming me now?

CINDERELLA

(Ignoring him)

I’m so sick of wearing the pants in this relationship (shoving clothes back into her bag)

PRINCE CHARMING

(HE climbs onto the stage and approaches HER)

That’s right, you wear the pants and I have the nuts.  I swear they cast you as the wrong character.  You should have been the Nutcracker.

CINDERELLA

(Appalled)

DO NOT push me right now.

PRINCE CHARMING

No, I’ll just bust your balls.  Oh wait, you’ve got that covered.  I’m outta here. (walks off stage)

(Shouting back to her)

Call one of your friends to come get you.  I’m done dealing with your bitchy, ungrateful, uptight, materialistic ass.

(CINDERELLA is left alone on stage. The stage door slams. Lights go out.  END SCENE)diamond_wedding_shoes

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under My Work

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s