Opening scene for a play Options

[*mipadi*]

I was going through old notebooks in which I wrote down things that came to me while in school, and I came across this opening scene for a play I started about three years ago. I never wrote anymore, for whatever reason, but I have recently considered finishing it, or at least writing a few more scenes to see where it's headed. Anyway, here's the opening scene:

A BEDTIME STORY (or, TEA FOR TWO)

ACT I. SCENE I.

SCENE: A stage.

David, a young man, roughly college-age or so, enters a completely darkened stage. In the center of the stage is a stool. As he steps out slowly onto the stage, a harsh spotlight shines on him. He slowly walks to the stool and sits. He lights a cigarette.

DAVID: A bedtime story. Tell me a bedtime story. If you're a parent—which I am not—you've probably heard this a million times from your kids.

Unless your kids are grown up. No, I don't mean grown up, not all the way, at least. I mean, at that tender age when your children always seem to be depressed, and the only thing that seems to matter to them is that elusive thing we call "love."

Stands.

Ah, yes. There comes a time in any normal teenager's evolving life when he or she suddenly finds an interest in the handsome, popular football captain or the lovely young lady next door. A time when that fine young friend becomes the very center of his or her universe.

Assuming it works out, of course. Which it rarely seems to, does it? Why, to hear the kids these days tell it, they're all a bunch of depressed, suicidal romantics. No one has a chance!

Well, that's why I am here tonight, ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to tell you a story. A good story. A funny story. A bit sad in parts. There'll be laughs, there'll be tears. But it's all in fun.

Sits on another stool on stage right.

Maybe the story is a whole cliché, but I'll do my best to spice it up for you fine people.

Exit stage right.

The stage fades to complete darkness.