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lastconcourse · 1 year

Text

Tornado Recipe UltraJune

(Symphony Futility in Z major)

Unstageable play

Regiondirect→Camereye stood parallel

A kitchen in an upper middle class home. It’s a dim noon. The counters+sink are lit by adjustable lamps on two aluminum racks overhead. In the middle of the room there is one center island; marbletopped, with two wood doors that open for access to inner-cabinet storage. The sink is in the back at stage right. There is a window above the sink. The Readers can see on the outside that there’s a dreary dusk sky, plus a cloud above. All the cabinet doors are white, the sinkfaucet is gold color, the cabinet doors are gold color. A rack of silver soupladles+spatula+tongs+whisks+tablespoons is mounted on the wall over a blender and beside a black air fryer. Right side: Out of the refrigerator come both hum and icerumble sounds. A windchime sings in parallel with nearing thunder.

(egg timer, stove, junk drawer full of rubberbands, unused tools, a tape measure, whole drawerfull of clean knives+forks+spoons, a dishwasher, a spice rack with one hundred flavors, a microwave, )

Flying soup ladles calmly stir a pot of boiled tin foil. The air fryer cheerfully pops its door open. A gantry crane lowers its chain from the ceiling, on the hook is a red wicker basket full of leather wallets. Two big bowls spin slowly like tops on the center island, one full of ice cream and the other full of fresh soup. The airfryer drops its door open and slides out its metal rack. A forklift made out of an exercise machine takes the basket and dumps the wallets on the airfryer’s rack, which is stuck out like a tongue. A flying pair of tongs with biplane wings serves rolls of bread from a tray out of the oven. The air fryer timerknob is now switched on and the timer is making its quick chatter sound. Icecream and Soup bowls drift and bounce together a bit like careening tops, and now the leather bakes.

Regiondirect→Stage right (Begin ruination of a birthday lunch)

A cardboard box full of embarassing memories is spilled down the stairs: Thousands of ruled paper sheets with awful poems written on them go wafting into the kitchen where they float around and fold into paper airplanes, then they land on the center island in perfect rows like jets on a battleship.

Poemjets: We’re here to attack your confidence with this cringey reminisence.

A stolen medalion flies through the air and crashes into the stained glass sconce of an antique wall lamp which is mounted in the living room: Sconce is shattered when it hits it. Shard after shard of red and blue crystal-cracked glass falls into a steel cauldron on a wheeled cart on a line of railroad tracks sitting on the carpet: The cart drives and the cauldron is taken to a forge by the fireplace where the glass is melted down and poured into a mold that shapes it into a skull: This forms the skull of a clueless fool, this is the first and most important skull.

Blue+Red Glass Shards

Blae+rued Gless Sharides

Blaew+Rueld Gleessh Shparides

jBlaw+Ruelld Gleetssh Sparidens

jblaw+rulled Gleethss Spaidens

Jblaw+krulled tGleeths Spidens

Jlaw skulled tleeth Spienes

Jaw skulled Tleeth Spines

Jaw Skull Teeth Spine

Jaw, Skull, Teeth, Spine

Regiondirect→Stage middle; from mouth of humanactor one

(activate buffoon here)

Foollessclue:

I am going to get this job. Before they mock me and I evaporate. I am going to get my job. j’andob→And keep my job once I have it; I will have a job: this job I am applying for, I will not be mocked or evaporate→ I am applying for a lifetime career→My choices are God’s design→I am not a deadbeat+/or wastrel ‘l ‘el ‘l ‘rel ‘l

Regionpoint: High up at stage middle:

Four cabinets above a stove open and reveal a long television screen behind them, the screen plays a panorama video of the inside of a grocery store on a time lapse, rapidly showing shoppers moving around and down aisles through a full day. So the commerce source of groceries plays inside the storage destination of groceries.

Regiondirect→Stage left+downstage

Foolllessclue walks like a desk, heavily skulking: A Huge wooden desk in the office room walks like a heavily skulking crab from its place in the office into the doorway of the kitchen. The desk Stomps and sprouts two claws made of stationary: Protractor joints, fountain pen fingers plus inky venom in nibs and two eyeballs on stalks that are webcams.

Deskrab: I make my next shell out of your hard work and notes. If you ever do any hard work again.

Foollessclue stands in the doorway and contemplates going back to bed. Then an idea comes to him:

Foollessclue: Eureka! Wow! Golly! Lord Almighty! The truth has arrived!

A wrecking ball made out of a soccer ball weighing six tonnes falls from the ceiling and crushes the center island: obliterated the bad poems, marble landing strip, and cabinets, instantly.

Chunks of marble fall into a plexiglass gutter and the camereye view changes

Regiondirect→ Camera is now low and pointed upwards: the reader can see through the stage floor to where a plexiglass gutter runs from stage right to left, with cold green water thrashing through it toward a previously hidden now→revealed underground room where a cashregister with bulldozer tracks and an abacus with centipede feet are seen watching the deluge of marble chunks and water fall from a sewer pipe above them into a trough before them.

Hot water spinning in a blender elsewhere.

Rock and Water dropping top right to bottom left.

Cash register bell ding sounds when the drawer pops→slides.

The cash register reaches out with a thin alu-wire appendage, picks pieces of marble out of the wet junk, and carefully organizes them into its drawer compartments. The abacus keeps record while a gooseneck lamp uses square chalk to write mathematical figures on the wall.

Two haggard bowls spin slowly like tops on the plot of the destroyed center island: Now one is filled with pinecones+dry ice and the other full of burning coals+dominos.

A bookshelf gets into a fistfight with the front door. The front door comes unhinged and walks backwards into the stage right of the set while the bookshell follows it and throws punches with arms made out of desk lamps. Sound: of bulbs shattering on punch-contact. The door topples against the fridge: KO. The Shelf keeps punching with lampfists until the door is busted full of holes, then the door breaks almost in half and crumples on the floor up against the fridge.

Regiondirect→ Camera cuts back up to oblique angle of Foollessclue frantically scribbling ideas in a big leather planner

Foollllessclue: I will invent a way to cure all diseases: I will socialize with the society. I will take pictures of every single thing that has ever existed. I will get a job making Christmas cards.

Foolllllessclue gets on his moped and rushes down to the job office. Each of his pockets is jammed with crumpled social security cards, resumes, a half eaten highschool diploma, and a computer eyeball.

A framed photo falls from the kitchen wall and lands face-down: Nothing breaks. The framephoto begins to crawl around on the floor like a bug and bites at the ankles of a chair which kicks and stomps back. Both of them go in circles around the left side of the kitchen.

The leftover marblewater swirling in the trough that couldn’t be fit in the cash register’s abdomen was scooped up by a bucket held by the abacus and laid out on a table. The gooseneck lamp sprouts a tungsten arm and starts using epoxy and bolts to connect the pieces of marble together, end to end, particle by bit, until the dusty chunks are two long bars. The cash register now takes out a chisel and rapidly sculpts the repaired marble bars into two legs, this makes the first pair of legs.

Marble Chunks Bolts

Mairble Chaunkes Beoelts

Mahirble Caunkes feBoelts

Mahigrbles Cankes febelt

mathigrbles Cankves febet

maThigbles Caves feet

aThighles Calves feet

Thighles Calves Feet

Thighs Calves Feet

Foollllllessclue uses his two marble legs to walk into the job store. But his foot gets caught on the doorway and he trips→and his pockets spill their garbage contents everywhere. ←↑→

A suitcase with eight thick-tired wheels (The front two bigger than the rear six) drives like a semi onto the middle kitchen tile at stage middle: and parks. And honks a horn.

Now there’s a sound of two numberlock clasp unclinching, the hinged clasps pop up: then it’s door-like top half opens on the hinge, it drives back/steers to readjust a bit: top half all open: A water fountain sprays out, cubes of ice and a layer of sleet float in the cold, cold water inside this case. A rope net with many small buckets hung on loops at the knots of its threads, is lowered by a golfclub seesaw, gently, into the case, from where it snatches a small portion of water.

(Certain parts of the rear set walls are actually transparent television screens with translucent texture applied to them to give the illusion of tile and drywall. To give readers in the audience the ability to see scenes in the backyard, the screens are turned off, and are looked through.)

Regionmention: Dry ice smoke still looms around in levels, the whole set has developed it’s own climatology with clouds in layers of various hot smogs. The stormcloud aboutside the windows is now flinging billiard balls onto the roof, and into the windchimes and birdfeeders. The windchimes panic and take flight in an instant, the chime goes off stroking through the sky like a squid, hanger upwards, decorations and metal pipes flexing like thick kite streamers beneath. One of the square metal birdfeeders falls from its hanger and starts spinning aggressively on the grass like a top, then starts cutting the soil like a tornado, then shoots off like a flying saucer, and crashes through the window: slowed by the exploding glass: drops into the sink with a bang-loud clang.

Birdfeeder: I was made to feed dinosaurs, but now I’m run aground.

The hail is destructive: Little bombastic billiard balls coated with razor blades and ice start to punch like bullets through the ceiling of the set, fall down on the floor, and shatter out as colored dust and airborne metal while the kitchen tiles start sliding left like a conveyorbelt.

Regiondirect: → (Pathetic here)

Foolllllllessclue: I need a new pair of arms. See? These two limbs are a fool’s impliments.

The kitchen tiles start to undulate aggressively like a solid white ocean.

Kitchentiles: Out! GET OUT! No more of this nonsense. I am meant to be walked on, I am not a landfill.

The Air Fryer’s door falls open and the ExerMach Forklift grasps and moves the tray of melted, smoking, burning leather-walletpile up into ↑ the air. A sentient cloud of smog floats down like a jellyfish and mingles with the rising fumes of fired leather. The sinkfaucet tries to spray the wallet tray with water to put the flames out but only succeeds at waterboarding the birdfeeder in the sink.

A huge pair of hands both wearing motorcycle gloves descends from the ceiling; fingers pointed at the back of the stage, one hand at stage right+one at left, they descend on the rack of burnt leather. A cabinet door above bangs excitedly. The blender swirls hot water. The ExerciseForklift bows and condescends→moves to stage left→into the shadow a bit. Readers see the gloved hands scoop up the leather and stretch it: Outward streetching burnt, charred moneywallet, streeetching out a whole rectangular platterworth. Down below, hot coals and smokey dry ice are getting flung everywhere when the two bowls get mad and attack each other. Up above the GlovedHands form the hot wallet material into two arms→starting at the elbows and strexpanding outward toward the hand and shoulders. A flying pair of tongs with helicopter rotors hovers over and helps be blacksmith→it pulls and sculpts out the leather to form two palms and ten fingers. A third hand holding a bottle of wood glue descends between and squirts it in the folds of the leather and a serpent made out of thick twine with a blowdryer for a head is charmed by a tornado siren to rise out of a low cabinet. The blowdryer snake sprays heat onto the glue to dry it: This is the first pair of arms.

Wallet Leather Ash

Wallcet Leathear Ansh

Wallicet fLeatohearm Andsh

bwallicep florhearm hAndsh

ballicep forhearm handsh

bllicep forearm hands

Blicep forearm Hand

Bicep Forearm Hand

Foollllllllessclue: I will use my arms to get a job making Christmas cards. I will mail my Christmas cards to every person on Earth. Everyone will love me. I’m going to make a lot of money. Money will be given to me out of love. People will pitty me. I will make money from love.

Stage right side of the kitchen implodes in a shower of blasted apart ceramic plates, tossed around silverware, twigs + leaves off tree branches, atomized drywall; flung up tiles. The whole upper floor comes down

Regiondirect→

A set of bedroom furniture is dropped into the destruction. a king size bed plummets with sheets+blanket flapping.

The Cash Register, Abacus, and Lamp respond with alarm to the sound of destruction above. A dark storm cloud, floating not more than 15 feet above the ground, coasts through the exposed hole in the house and then starts to rapidly pour floodsurge levels of water into the kitchen scene. Eventually the water reaches the translucent gutter and starts to pour from high right to low left into the secret room belonging to the Abacus, Lamp, and Register.

Abacus: We’re going to drown. I guess I can count the water by volume.

Lamp: This downpour is erasing my chalk. I can’t work in a flood.

A huge billboard with the words “Too Bad So Sad" and "I Don’t Feel Bad” written in bright blue on a yellow background crashes through the stage wall from right to left like a battering→ram: tosses bedsheets, wood and tree chunks around while swinging across the set.

Regiondirect→From stage right (With happiness)

Foollessclue runs into the kitchen waving around a stack of Christmas cards while loudly exclaiming “I have the solution! I have the answer! I will find success and happiness!” Right as the ceiling collapses and buries him under the entire set. The water continues to rise until the whole room is a flooded half-floating landfill. Burnt things and wall studs floating on rain. The lights extinguish. Try again.

#writing #dadaism #surrealism

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