Friday, January 13, 2017

Women in the Age of Trump: IF SHE WERE NOT MY DAUGHTER I'D JUST GRAB HER

IF SHE WERE NOT MY DAUGHTER - I'D JUST GRAB HER by Paul K. Smith is a semi-finalist for NYCPlaywrights project "Women in the Age of Trump."

Thanks to Paul K. Smith for allowing NYCPlaywrights to publish this excerpt from his play.




   RAMÓN

Would be no problem at all -Would be so easy to just blow your head off. Women die every day.

   (RAMÓN exits).

   MEL-ANYA

So do men. . .

   NICK

   (Not seeming to notice Ramón’s parting words: )

(Does) Adolfo ever stay put?

   (Mel-anya shakes her head in disbelief.)

He doesn’t? You know, when I first came here -- found you’d married Adolfo Drumpf -- I was dumpfounded. I would never have pictured you, and him, together.

   (= Instead of you and me.)

   MEL-ANYA

Nor I, mon ami. Never, ever, ever.

   NICK

   (He looks at her closely, then:)

Mel-anya-- You may not want to stay here for this. Ramón -- Ramon!!!!!!!!

   (MEL-ANYA scurries out, exchanging looks with RAMÓN as he enters: her look says, ‘See, my avenger is standing up for me.’ A look that does not faze Ramón one whit.).

Ramón, where are you going? Get back here.

   RAMÓN

Mr. Drumpf wanted me to go with him—

   NICK

Not so fast. You think what you’re doing makes the grade? I don’t think so.

   RAMÓN

Oh what do I got to do?

NICK

You’re still an apprentice for this job. Don’t forget that. Lazaro! would you come over here?

   (An old gardener pads over, very leery.)

   NICK

At ease, Gomez. Ramón, this is Lazaro. Lazaro Gomez. Now Ramón, you keep this secret-- okay? You are not a Drumpf employee till until you pass “o peira” – until you pass the test. The test of a man. Well, guess what we have here? our gardener --Show Ramón your tools-- our gardener Lazaro is in the country without papers.

   RAMÓN

You mean he’s an illegal? Well, Mr. Drumpf hates illegals. They are like germs. We’re not safe from their impur-i-ties. From their contagion.

   NICK

And with germs -- we need germ warfare.

   (Nick puts a fat revolver in Ramón’s hand.)

Put yours away. This one’s clean. You understand the job, Ramón?

   RAMÓN

Yessir. No problemo.

   NICK

You know what needs to be done here. Ethnic cleansing. If you sincerely want to be hired.

   (NICK exits. RAMÓN checks the sights on the gun by firing it. Lazaro Gomez falls to the dirt, dead, still holding a gardening tool. The shot is a siren call to DRUMPF. He stalks in, sees Lazaro Gomez the gardener is dead. And sees Ramón holding the smoking gun. Takes command. NICK enters, deflects Drumpf’s fury from himself to Ramón. )

DRUMPF

My God what have you done!!? I said, take him out. Not, kill him: deport him.