Another day, another play….
(At the welfare office. Simon is first in a long line.)
SIMON: The welfare wish I go forms where on to are?
HELEN: … what?
SIMON: Where welfare welfare go on wish for forms are the I to on?!
HELEN: As if I have to god-damn put up with this shit. Get out of here before I call security.
(Simon starts gesticulating.)
What are you doing?
CLAIRE: I think it’s charades.
HELEN: What? Oh my God, that’s it! I’m calling security.
SIMON (prostate and pleading): Do don’t please that!
CLAIRE: I’m good at charades. Maybe I can help!
HELEN: Fine. Do your stupid charades.
LEOPOLD: What’s going on? Is that guy doing charades? I have to get to an appointment!
HELEN: WAIT YOUR TURN!
CLAIRE: Three words. First word. Four syllables. First syllable. Grandma. Granny? Uh… Shorter? Gram? Yes! Second syllable. Uh… uh, sash, proud, hall monitor…?
CLAIRE: Oh! Good one! Gram-mayor… grammarian?
HELEN: Nice. You are good at this.
CLAIRE (smiles at Helen, then): Third word. Bowling. Win. Win at bowling. Throw. Uh… oh! Strike! Grammarian on strike!
SIMON: Goodness thanks!
HELEN: Um. Okay. So you’re a grammarian.
… and you’re on strike, which means, what, random word order?
(Simon nods emphatically. Helen sighs.)
Look, I’m sorry, but welfare’s not available for people on strike.
LEOPOLD: How did you not know that? What an idiot!
CLAIRE: Hey! Don’t be rude!
(Simon leaves Charlie-Brown style.)
HELEN: It’s tough being on strike. How can I help you, beautiful?
(The lights fade as Claire blushes.)