Story 488: Dramatic Irony in Action

[Scene: A private detective’s office, 1930s New York City.  The lone detective sits at his desk, staring at the cityscape out the window and sucking on a candy cigarette]

Detective: (Voiceover) <Nighttime in The Big City.  How I loathe this cesspool of crime, this limbo of lost souls, this… (Rubs an arm across the pane of the partially open window) factory of filthy windows.  The only thing that keeps me here in perpetual perdition is my innate, unerring, unceasing sense of justice.  How I loathe that, too.>

(A silhouette rushes up to the office door’s mostly opaque pane of glass; Detective turns around sharply as the figure in the hallway rapidly bangs on the door)

Detective: (Voiceover) <A knock on the door, after hours.  Can only mean one thing: Trouble, with a capital “T”.  And a capital “R”, “O”, “U” – >

Reader: Hello?!

Detective: (Voiceover) <Come in, Danger.>

Reader: I know you’re in there; can I come in, please?!

Detective: (Voiceover) <Guess I forgot to say that first bit out loud.> (Takes out the candy cigarette to yell) Come in!  (Voiceover) <Danger.>

Reader: (Rattles the doorknob) The door’s locked!

Detective: (Voiceover) <Right: I’d locked that to keep out Danger.>  (Walks wearily to the door, unlocks it, and lets in Reader who collapses onto a chair, out of breath) So, what brings you to my humble rat hole, Factory Worker?

Reader: Huh? (Looks down at outfit of sweater and jeans) Oh yeah, guess I don’t look like your typical Dame in Distress.  Or is it Broad?

Detective: (Locks the door again and resumes sucking on the candy cigarette) Whatever pleases you.  I don’t judge who comes through my door, long as they’ve got a cause to tug at the heartstrings and the dough to back it up.

Reader: (Stands) Right, so: not here about that –

Detective: Then you have five seconds to convince me not to throw you out this window.

Reader: We’re on the ground floor, so I’m not too concerned.

Detective: Corrupt landlord of a corrupt system: I specifically requested digs with a view of the tops of the more modest skyscrapers for me to brood upon life’s miseries, and instead I get horn-blaring taxicabs and littering pedestrians.  It’s a wonder I close cases at all in this milieu.

Reader: Can’t help that, but I’m actually here to do you a favor.

Detective: (Voiceover) < Favors don’t come cheap, and this scrappy ne’er-do-well looks to be driving a hard bargain; only question is, how much of my soul am I willing to sell – >

Reader: Since you’re now staring off into space I assume you’re in the middle of a rambling internal monologue that ultimately leads nowhere.

Detective: …You assume rightly.

Reader: Well knock it off: I came here to warn you that you’re in incredible danger!

Detective: Just a moment, please.  (Places the candy cigarette in an ashtray and turns up blaring saxophone music) Need to set the mood – you were saying?  (Perches casually on the edge of the desk)

Reader: (Shouting over the music) I was saying that your life is in danger!

Detective: Life is danger –

Reader: What?!

Detective: Fine.  (Turns off the music) I said, life is danger: it’s the deal we sign up for when we’re thrust literally screaming into this harsh, brutal world.  Unwillingly, I might add.

Reader: Yeah, well, this is a little more specific danger right now: you remember the gangster-you’ve-been-trying-to-outwit-forever’s second-in-command’s cousin’s drinking buddy who you tossed into a dumpster during the alley fight four chapters – I mean, two days ago?

Detective: (Thinks for a few moments) Oh, that little pipsqueak?  Had a fresh mouth, matched only by a pretty sharp toothpick?  Sure I remember tossing his keister out of my way in that brawl for the truth; why?

Reader: Let’s just say I have it on good authority that the pipsqueak’s got it in for you, so you’d better, you know, watch your 6:00.

Detective: (Checks watch) No, it’s 11:45.

Reader: Pipsqueak’s literally gunning for you, dude!  Any minute now, he’s gonna burst in here and give you the what for!

Detective: Not quite following your lingo, but sounds like Pipsqueak’s got my number and wants to cash in my chips for me the hard way.

Reader: Yes!  That!  (Collapses back onto the chair)

Detective: And how, exactly, did you come by this useful information?  Maybe Pipsqueak sent you here as a double-bluff, I wonder!

Reader: No, nothing here’s ever that convoluted: let’s just say I… know things.

Detective: Do you indeed.

Reader: Yes, and I know that Pipsqueak’s planning to come here tonight, at exactly midnight, and literally remove you from the scene in revenge for the humiliating dumpster dive!

Detective: Is that so?  You seem to know an awful lot about it for someone claiming not to be in league with that nobody.

Reader: I know enough that you should get out of here in… (Leans over to peer at Detective’s watch) less than five minutes.  If you value your life.

Detective: I do, but that’s beside the point right now.  (Reaches into a desk drawer and takes out a peashooter to train on Reader) Right now, I feel like I’m being served a load of flimflam that I want to return to the chef, and maybe I really should consider you the threat, instead of little Mr. Featherweight.

Reader: (Stands slowly with hands slightly raised) Listen, I’m trying to prevent a tragedy here – you had no idea this guy was coming for you until I showed up, and now you do, so you need to get your caboose in gear and split!

Detective: (Also stands) Well, I think that this is all a bunch of hooey you made up just so you could get to my mother’s pearls!

Reader: What?

Detective: What?

Reader: I don’t care about those, I’m trying to save your life!

Detective: Aha!  So you admit you know about them!

Reader: No – well I do, but –

Detective AH!  HA!

Reader: Listen, I know everything about your weird little life, OK!  I know about your childhood in the surprisingly comfortable orphanage; I know about your one summer as a carnie barker; I know about your tragic coming-of-age in the trenches of World War I –

Detective: (Gasps) ONE?!  There’s gonna be more?!

Reader: – I know about your heartbreak when the one true love of your life ran off with the one true best friend of your life; I know about your only really solving one case with the others being lost to moral ambiguity; I know about it all.

Detective: (Chews on lip while pondering this) Are you an actual witch?  Because it’s all right now: you’d only get prison time instead of the stake.

Reader: No!  I can only say… your life is an open book to me.

Detective: Ha!  I’m read by no one!

Reader: Wanna bet?

(The door bursts open with Pipsqueak’s arrival, another peashooter at the ready)

Pipsqueak: Gotcha!  You – oh sorry, didn’t realize you had a guest.

Reader: Ah, fiddlesticks.

Detective: Pipsqueak?!

Pipsqueak: What in the – ?  No, my name is Charles, and I’m calling you out!

Detective: Fine, go ahead!

Pipsqueak: I just – I just did.

Reader: Get outta here, man, you’re ruining everything!

Pipsqueak: Absolutely not!  Not after what this busybody-with-airs did to me!  I’ll never get that dumpster smell out of my hair and skin, never!

Reader: Yeah, you’re right: it’s pretty bad.

Detective: You had it coming!  But you’ll never catch me alive, do you hear me?!  No one will ever catch me alive, ahahahahaha!  (Turns around and jumps out the window)

Pipsqueak: (Falls to his knees and tilts head back to face the ceiling) NOOOOOOOOOOOO – !

Reader: Easy there, buddy – he just hailed a cab and drove off.

Pipsqueak: (Tilts head back forward) Oh right; forgot I didn’t climb any stairs to get here.  This place really is a dump, isn’t it?

Reader: You’re telling me.

Pipsqueak: (Stands and brushes off pants) Well, guess there’s no point in continuing my revenge spree if he’s just gonna keep jumping out windows every time I show up; I’m going back to the poker game I was losing to go do this.  (Leaves)

Reader: Yes!  Success!  (Looks around the empty office) Wait a minute: there’s still 150 pages left in this thing.

Story 375: How to Pass the Time Before Your Head Is (Figuratively) Taken Off

 (In an office, Coworker 1 is typing agitatedly away as Coworker 2 approaches carrying a large soft drink)

Coworker 2: Haaaaaaappy Friiiidaaaaaaayyyyyy!!!!!

Coworker 1: (Without looking up) You know that sentiment unreasonably irritates me – we clearly are not happy and want nothing more than for Friday to end.

Coworker 2: Well, just the business-day part of it for us in the office contingent – I felt the same way you do when I worked weekends in retail; Friday nights were just the worst.

Coworker 1: I believe it: I probably was one of your customers.  (An e-mail pops up – Coworker 1 freezes while reading it) Oh no – oh no – oh no – oh no – oh no –

Coworker 2: Uh-oh, sounds like that sinking feeling.  What happened?

Coworker 1: The thing – I sent – I forgot – it needs – I missed – on Monday –

Coworker 2: Let me guess: you submitted something that’s due on Monday and just now were reminded that something else is needed for it but since it’s – (Looks at watch) 4:49 on a Friday afternoon it’s too late to add anything and now you’re doomed?

Coworker 1: (Nods a lot with a panicked face) And the worst part is, I’m not the one who’s going to be presenting it; my manager is.

 Coworker 2: Ooh, double whammy.  Now excuses’ll have to be made for your incompetence, but it’ll just look like your manager can’t supervise employees properly.  You’re gonna get yelled at both for messing up and for making the boss look bad – I don’t envy you one bit.

Coworker 1: (Sinks down onto the desk) What-am-I-gonna-do?!  My head’s gonna get taken off!  Again!

Coworker 2: This has happened before?

Coworker 1: A similarly horrific mistake, yes.

Coworker 2: Well, there’re only two things for it: send your manager an e-mail confessing all, and spend the weekend having the time of your life before facing the end on Monday.

Coworker 1: (Sits up again) How can I even think about enjoying myself when I have this hanging over me?!

Coworker 2: Easy: it’s not going anywhere and there’s nothing to be done about it until three days from now, so why spend your remaining moments of non-punishment miserable?  Go wild, I say.  (Looks at watch again) Speaking of, that very nicely ends my shift – bye.  (Leaves, slurping the drink)

Coworker 1: (Stares at the computer monitor for a few moments, then types a reply e-mail) Metaphorical falling-on-my-sword, commence.  (Selects “Send,” sighs dramatically, logs out of the computer, cleans up the desk, and leaves)

 FRIDAY NIGHT

 (Coworker 1 slowly walks to the train station for the commute home, then stops in the middle of the sidewalk to the annoyance of pedestrians everywhere)

Coworker 1: Wait a minute – this is the self-appointed Greatest City in the World!  Why am I heading home to mentally gnaw on work issues when I’m literally in the middle of all this stuff?!  (Runs to the nearest club)

Pedestrian: You go, office drone!  Take the world and give nothing back!

(Coworker 1 spends the evening club-hopping, dancing to loud music, eating delicious junk, and riding home on the late train humming that one song that never leaves)

 SATURDAY MORNING/AFTERNOON

(Coworker 1 sleeps late, then makes a gourmet breakfast before heading to the nearest mountain to ski)

Ski Instructor: And how many lessons have you had prior to this?

Coworker 1: None!  (Crouches into a ball before pushing off to head down the entire mountain)

Ski Instructor: Wait, I didn’t teach you how to fall yet!

(Coworker 1 screams all the way, reaches the bottom, stops safely, and tips over onto a small snowbank)

Coworker 1: (Lying on back and staring at the gray sky) Wheeeee….

 SATURDAY EVENING

 (At a movie theater box office)

Cashier: May I help you?

Coworker 1: Yes, I’d like a ticket to the double-double-feature please, along with five tubs of popcorn and seven gallons of soda.  Oh, and all the candy.

Cashier: (Rings up the ticket) Just a reminder the final show doesn’t let out until 3 a.m., and you have to get all that other stuff at the concession stand.

Coworker 1: (Swipes credit card) Right – it’s been so long since I’ve done this, I thought it was all consolidated to one purchase by now.

Cashier: (Hands over the ticket and receipt) Thankfully not.

(Coworker 1 runs to the concession stand, the unconsumed sugar already kicking in, then sits in a theater getting lost in other worlds for the next six hours)

 SUNDAY MORNING

(Coworker 1 joins a group doing yoga on a beach)

Coworker 1: (To Yoga Instructor) I saw some dolphins out there on my way over – will they be joining us like the goats do on those farms?

Yoga Instructor: No, they need to stay in the water.

Coworker 1: Cool – maybe I’ll join them later.

(The group members invert their bodies for the next half hour)

 SUNDAY AFTERNOON

(Coworker 1 prepares to tandem skydive out of an airplane)

Skydiving Instructor: (Shouting over the rushing wind and the plane’s engine) Just remember: I’ll be doing all the work, so you literally don’t have to do a single thing except not get sick, if you don’t mind!

Coworker 1: No worries!  I figure if something tragic happens we’ll both go out together, isn’t that comforting?!

Skydiving Instructor: Not really!  (They jump, with Coworker 1 laughing and Skydiving Instructor guiding them and praying all the way down; they arrive back on Earth, intact)

Coworker 1: Yippee, let’s do that again!

Skydiving Instructor: Sure, if you’ve got another $300.00.

Coworker 1: Let’s do that again some other time!  (Separates their harness and rolls around on the ground in glee) I feel so alive, hooray!

Skydiving Instructor: That’s great – listen, I’ve got to get back for the next customer’s once-in-a-lifetime experience, so could you speed this up a bit?

 SUNDAY EVENING

(Coworker 1 curls up on the living room couch with a book and blanket; gentle music is playing in the background and lit candles are everywhere)

Coworker 1: (Engrossed in the novel) Aw, those two finally got together, that feels so fulfilling.  (Suddenly looks up and around) Wait a minute, I’m forgetting something aren’t I?... Of course!  Chocolate!  (Springs off the couch to whip up a hot chocolate bomb that’s all the rage this season, then sinks back onto the couch while smacking lips after the first sip) Ahhhhhhh, I have never felt so satisfied in my entire life since the time before I was kicked out of the womb.

 MONDAY MORNING

(Coworker 1 wakes in dread, eats breakfast in dread, rides the train in dread, walks to the office in dread, and approaches Manager’s desk in dread)

Coworker 1: Hi.

Manager: Oh hi, did you have a good weekend?

Coworker 1: The best.  How about you?

Manager: Eh, it was all right – had to spend some of it finishing up the presentation for today.

Coworker 1: About that....

Manager: Yeah?

Coworker 1: Did you get my e-mail on Friday?

Manager: Oh yeah, I wrote back but you’d probably already left for the day – it’s OK you forgot that one section, turns out we don’t really need it for this so it’s no big deal.

Coworker 1: …Oh.  Really?

Manager: Yeah, the rest of it can do without it so it doesn’t matter.  You OK?

Coworker 1: I’m fine, why do you ask?

Manager: Well, you looked like you’ve been thinking all weekend I’d take your head off or something like that.

Coworker 1: The thought never crossed my mind.