Cast

WILLY: A male Boston Terrier

MEG: A female Boston Terrier

Setting

The interior of a house, around 3 PM. Present day.

The stage is set with a sofa and a chair. Several dog toys are strewn about the floor. As the lights come up, MEG is crouched in the chair, chewing on a stuffed animal. A toy is directly in front of her on the floor. With obvious relish, WILLY is licking the couch. He continues doing so for a few moments after the lights rise, then stands up, looks around confidently, and wanders across the stage. Suddenly, he becomes alert—he hears something.

WILLY

Fucker. [pause] Bastard! [runs over to stage right and screams at an unseen party offstage] Hey! Motherfucker! Get the hell out of my yard! Get the fuck out of here, you cocksucking bastard! Asshole! Asshole! Cocksucker! Asshole! Your mother was a bitch, and your father was a mongrel! Get the hell out of my yard, out of my neighborhood, and out of this whole goddamn city, or I swear to God, I’ll find that nutsack the vet cut off when you were a puppy and sew it back on just so I can rip it off again with my bare teeth! If I ever see you around here again, you’ll wish you’d never been more than a gleam in your asshole bastard mongrel father’s eye, you sorry sack of shit! [pause] That’s right! Keep walking! Keep walking, you sorry bastard! Get out of here, motherfucker! That’s right! [Snorts, composes himself, walks slowly and with conspicuous self-satisfied pride back to center stage. Mutters to self:] Cocksucker. [Puts hands on hips. Pauses. Looks at MEG, and points at toy in front of her.] Hey, can I have that toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Can I have that toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Can I have that toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Can I have that toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Can I have that toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Why?

MEG

Because. I’m using it.

WILLY

You’re not even! It’s just sitting there.

MEG

I know. Still. I’m using it, and you can’t have it.

WILLY

Why?

MEG

Because.

WILLY

Come on. [tries to grab the toy]

MEG

[yells fiercely] No!

WILLY

[startled; backs off, putting hands in air] All right! All right. Fine. Jeez. Have it, then. [starts walking away, then sighs with frustration and wheels around] It’s just that you’re not even using it! It’s just sitting there. Why can’t I have it?

MEG

There are other toys all over the place. Use one of those!

WILLY

[waves hand dismissively] I don’t want any of those!

MEG

Why? They’re exactly the same. They came from the same store.

WILLY

They’re just…they’re just…they’re not the same, okay? Now come on, let me have it!

MEG

No! You just want it because I have it. As soon as you have it, you won’t want it any more.

WILLY

That’s ridiculous! That’s not true.

MEG

[rolls eyes] That is so true. [resumes chewing on stuffed animal]

WILLY

Why do you always have to have a stupid toy sitting right by you, anyway? That’s just dumb. It’s not even in your mouth.

MEG

[wearily, stops chewing] Because. When she comes home, I want to be ready.

WILLY

That’s so stupid! She’s not going to be home for at least two hours, and she never wants to play right away anyway! She goes to the bathroom, she checks the mail, she has a beer…

MEG

Right, right, but that one time! Remember that one time.

WILLY

That one time. That one time she came home and grabbed the toy right out of your mouth and threw it down the basement stairs.

MEG

[grins widely] Yeah. That time. [sighs happily, closes eyes] That was great. [pauses, then opens eyes] That could happen again, so I’m keeping this toy so I have it right here for when she gets home. Just in case. [resumes chewing]

WILLY

Oh, for the…that was once in eight years! Come on! Let it go, and let me play with the goddamn toy!

MEG

[continues chewing, but shakes her head no and looks at WILLY threateningly]

WILLY

[sighs deeply, then suddenly stands alert and runs back to stage right. Again, yells offstage at an unseen adversary.] You piss-ant cocksucking son-of-a-bitch, get your ass off my sidewalk! I see you! I see you! I see you! Bastard! Asshole! You shit-eating, cat-licking freak of nature, get the fuck off my property or I’m gonna come out there and turn you into a million pieces of ground poodle with a side of bloody carcass, you prissy bitch! Get the…yeah, that’s right! You heard me! Keep walking! Keep walking! Keep walking! You sad excuse for a canine! Get lost! Get lost! Get! The! Fuck! LOST! [shudders, composes himself, walks back to center stage drawing his hands down his torso in a sort of self-calming ritual. Closes eyes. Pauses. Opens them again, and looks at MEG indignantly.] You know, one of these days you might think about taking the trouble to thank me. Just…you know, maybe. You could thank me!

MEG

[having been completely indifferent to WILLY’s outburst, stops chewing and sighs.] For what, Willy?

WILLY

For what? For what?! For saving your life…like, ten times a day!

MEG

Saving my…what, from Priscilla the poodle? [gestures towards stage right]

WILLY

Yes! Exactly! And from all those other rangy mutts.

MEG

Willy. They’re just walking past.

WILLY

You’re damn right they’re walking past! Because they know what’ll happen to them if they ever try to come any closer! They know I ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie. They know I mean every word I say.

MEG

Seriously, Willy. You think they want to come in here?

WILLY

Oh, my God. They don’t just want to come in here, they want to come in here, grab us by the throat and hold us down, probably…I’m sorry to have to put this out there, but probably have their way with both of us, then likely kill us, eat us…no, wait, eat us alive, and then eat all the special expensive hypoallergenic food that Anna works hard all day to make money so she can buy for us because of my allergy issues. They’d pee all over our territory, crap on whatever’s left of us, grab all our toys, and make off like bandits. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Meg, but that is what they want to do.

MEG

[stands up, grabs her toy in her hand, and walks over to WILLY] Willy, you’re crazy! Those dogs are just out for walks! They’re walking down our street, they’re on leashes, they’re with their owners, they don’t even have any idea we’re in here! Even if they wanted to come in here, their owners wouldn’t let them—plus, the door is locked and there’s an alarm system. The windows are closed, Willy. They can’t hear you, they’re not afraid of you, and they have absolutely no desire to come in here and rape us and murder us and steal our hypoallergenic food.

WILLY

[folds arms, shakes head] You are so naïve.

MEG

[hangs head, pauses, shakes it in disbelief] You’re delusional, Willy. You’ve invented this completely fictional threat, and you’ve become obsessed with it. It’s warped, Willy. It’s warped and it’s sick. You need help.

WILLY

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You did not just say that. There is only one dog here who has an irrational obsession, and it is not me, it’s you. [crosses arms]

MEG

What are you talking about, Willy?

WILLY

Oh, please. You know what I’m talking about. Your consuming obsession with playing fetch. [MEG looks aside, shaking her head and clearly uncomfortable] Yes, that’s right. Meg, you think about nothing but ball-fetching every waking minute…and every sleeping minute too. When you kick me in the head under the covers, I know what you’re dreaming about. You’re dreaming about fetching one of these damn toys you’re so obnoxiously possessive of. [MEG turns and walks across the stage, as though to disengage from the conversation] Don’t you walk away! Don’t you walk away from me! I know you, Meg! We live together, remember? For years—years, Meg—I’ve seen how you live for fetching. When no one’s throwing a toy for you, you either stand beside them and whine—it’s shameful, Meg, how you whine—or, if they start getting irritated, you walk away and sit on the couch pretending to rest, but I see you! I see how you keep a toy with you at all times, and how you always have one eye on Anna or LeLe or whoever, waiting for them to make the slightest indication they might want to throw the toy for you, then you go running up and…well, it’s just ridiculous, Meg. And then when they do throw the toy for you…Meg, we all worry about you. [walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder] We worry about your health. You run yourself into the ground, Meg. You fetch and fetch and fetch until you physically collapse, and then as soon as you can drag yourself to your feet, you’re back for more. It’s not healthy, Meg. It’s not right. [dramatic pause] You, Meg, are the one here who needs help.

MEG

[wheels around and pushes WILLY’s hand away] Okay! Okay, I admit it! And you know what, Willy? I’m not ashamed. I focus on fetch, because it gives my life meaning. It gives me a reason to wake up in the morning. [gets up in WILLY’s face, forcing him to back across the stage as she advances] When I focus on fetch, Willy, I don’t focus on the mother I was taken from, or the reproductive capabilities that were torn from me against my will, or the stupid hypoallergenic duck mash I have to eat because of your damn allergies, or the fact that I’m completely at the whim of powers who tolerate me and feed me and play with me because I amuse them. Because they think I’m cute. Because they think I’m sweet. [points finger at WILLY] We’re here, Willy, because we are companion animals. We’re here—all of us dogs, even the poodles you think want to rape us and pillage our bungalow—we’re here because people want to be needed, and boy, do we need them. We need them to feed us, we need them to shelter us, we even need them to let us out the door to take a crap, for God’s sake—and then we need them to pick it up, because our perfectly natural feces is apparently some kind of affront to the delicate sensibilities of the people who bred us and sold us and hold us captive to their arbitrary whims. [almost crying] So yeah, I fetch. I think about fetch, because when I think about fetch, I don’t think about anything else. I don’t think about my sad, subservient, helpless role in life. Bring in the clown, and let’s name her Meg. Yeah. I’m a goddamn clown. So I don’t want to hear you telling me I’m sick because I’ve resigned myself to being what I am.

[Pause. MEG is breathing hard, clearly emotional. WILLY looks penitent.]

WILLY

So our lives are meaningless? It doesn’t really matter what we do?

MEG

[quietly, sadly] I guess that’s true.

WILLY

Then you won’t mind if I…take this toy! [grabs at toy in MEG’s hand]

MEG

What?! Oh, God, no! [yanks at toy, fights with WILLY over it. After a moment, WILLY succeeds at tearing the toy out of her hand.] NOOOO!!!!! [screams in frustrated rage]

WILLY

[prances triumphantly away, skipping and hopping around the stage] It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, you said so yourself!

MEG

[Wipes her eyes, glares in fury at WILLY, and, after considering a few different toys, picks one up and returns to her chair. Resumes chewing on stuffed animal.]

WILLY

[Continues to prance gaily about for a few moments, then stands still and issues a great sigh of contentment. Tosses the toy in the air and chortles, then catches it again. Walks across the stage. Notices that MEG has a new toy. Looks away. Looks back. Looks away. Looks back. Takes a step towards MEG, who glares at him.] Um…

MEG

Yes?

WILLY

Listen, I…

MEG

Yes?

WILLY

[drops the toy he stole from MEG, holds his arms out in appeasement, speaks quickly] I’m really sorry I said all that…and can I have your toy?

MEG

No.

WILLY

Can I have it, please?

MEG

No!

WILLY

It’s just that I’ve really been wanting that particular one all day, and…[stands at sudden attention] Cocksucker. [runs to stage right and yells offstage] Hey! I thought I told you to never come back on my turf, you pathetic excuse for a dachshund! My wiener is bigger than you, Rufus! Yeah, you heard me, you sad sack of shit! You wanna go? You wanna piece of me? You wanna dance, cowboy?

MEG

[looks at audience and sighs as the lights go down]

– Jay Gabler

Photo by Madpants (Creative Commons)