Story 262: Winning the High School Raffle

            (Scene: A high school cafeteria repurposed into an amateur auction hall – the round tables are grouped facing a podium, and gift baskets are everywhere)

            PTO President: And now, for the 50/50.  (Holds a bucket out to an unbiased child on loan for the occasion) The winner of this drawing also will receive a free Chess Club T-shirt, yay!  (One audience member claps) Yeah.  And the winner is – (Takes ticket from the unbiased child, who disappears into the crowd) zero… zero… two… five….

            Parent 1: Hurry up!  The tension is killing me!

            PTO President: Oh, are these numbers matching your ticket?

            Parent 1: Heck no, I never do 50/50s, now come on!

            PTO President: Uh… eight-four!

            (Massive groans are heard)

          Winner: (Holding the ticket high into the air) YES!  YES-YES-YES-YES-YESSSSS!!!!  (Runs to the stage, still with the ticket aloft)

            PTO President: Um, hello, can I just check – (Cranes head to check the ticket number)

            Winner: Sure-go-ahead-I-won!  (Tosses ticket to the PTO President, who struggles to snatch it out of the air) Now where’s the T-shirt?

            PTO President: (Grabs the ticket and checks the number) Uhhhh, here you go.  (Reaches into a bag, pulls out the shirt, and hands it to the Winner)

            Winner: Sweeeeet!  (Pulls on the shirt over a sweater)

            PTO President: (Reviewing notes) Oh, and your winnings in the 50/50 are –

            Winner: (Admiring shirt) Don’t care – give it to the school or flush it down the toilet, your choice.

            PTO President: Uh, that’s very… nice of –

            Winner: Got my shirt and I’m out, ahahahaha!!! (Runs out of the cafeteria; after leaving the door, can be heard faintly) Losers.

            Parent 2: Does she even have any kids who go to this school?

            PTO President: (Struggling with notes) Now then, time for our silent auction.  Our first basket is a “Girls’ Night Out” Theme –

            Parent 3: (Stands) Actually, that was updated to “Night Out” because everyone was tired of the spa packages and store coupons, so we just filled the basket with candy and booze.  (Sits)

            PTO President: Ohhh… kaaaayyy…. And the winner for “Night Out” is – (Searches the crowd) Where’s the unbiased child to pull the numbers?

            Parent 4: They left – it was time for beddy-bye.

            PTO President: Fine, I’m pulling the numbers then.  (Pulls out a ticket) And the winner is: zero… zero….

            Parent 5: That’s me! 

            PTO President: That’s everybody.

            Parent 5: Proceed.

            PTO President: Seven… I mean one…

            Parent 6: Aw, man, there goes that!

            PTO President: Nine… two… seven.

            Parent 5: That’s me!

            PTO President: That’s – oh whoops, sorry, that was a one again.

            Parent 5: That’s me!

            PTO President: Seriously?

            Parent 5: Oh yes.  (Walks to the stage carrying a bag full of tickets; hands one to the PTO President) Here you go!

            PTO President: (Checks it) Oh wow, it’s a match.  Basket’s yours, then.  (Hands over the basket)

            Parent 5: (Raises it aloft) Party at my house, fellas!

            Parents: Woot!  Woot!

            PTO President: Please sit down.  (Parent 5 returns to seat) Now, the next basket is donated items signed by our local football celebrity, whose team is in the playoffs this year, isn’t that great?  (Silence) OK then, let me see who won this…. (Checks corresponding bucket) There’re no tickets in here?!

            Parent 3: Yeah, nobody wanted random stuff signed by him: he was a brat when he went here, and he’s an even bigger brat now.

            PTO President: But he donated all this stuff!

            Parent 3: All this used stuff.

            PTO President: Oh.  Ew.  All right, next.  (Uses foot to push the previous basket off the stage) This one has an all-inclusive trip to the North Pole with passes to meet Santa Claus and – this is a gag basket, isn’t it.

            Parent 7: (Laughing hysterically) Man, people fall for that every time!

            PTO President: Wait a minute, is there anything actually real in this one?

            Parent 7: The basket?

            PTO President: Forget it.  (Foot-pushes that basket off the stage) We’re going to move on to the artwork raffle.  (More groans in the audience) C’mon people, these were made by your children!

            Parent 4: Apparently we don’t like our children.

            PTO President: Monsters.  (Pulls out a framed watercolor of a landscape) My goodness, that’s awful – ly full of potential!  Starting bid is $1,000.00

            Parent 6: This ain’t a New York auction house, you know.

            PTO President: Clearly.  All right, $1.00?  (Silence for half a minute, then Parent 8 slowly raises a hand) Sold!  (Parent 8 slowly comes to the stage to take the painting)  Is this is your kid’s?

            Parent 8: Yes, yes: you win, world, I will no longer force my child to be a brilliantly starving artist, are you happy?!

            PTO President: I think the world and your child are, yes.  Now let’s go back to the baskets –

            Parent 3: Wait a minute, what about the art?

            PTO President: The rest won’t move, and we’ve got another 25 baskets to get through in less than an hour.

            Parent 4: But what about the sculpture of the battling dragons sitting right there?  Now that I may actually bid money on.

            PTO President: Really?

            Parent 4: …No, never mind; I’m too cheap.

            Parent 5: Can I just take all the baskets home?  The odds of you picking my tickets for each are ridiculously high.

            PTO President: No you cannot, and we are going to be here all night if you people don’t stop interrupting the proceedings!

            Parent 7: Can we all just write a check donating money to the school or something and skip the rest?

            PTO President: No!  This is supposed to be fun and team-building and you get cool stuff!  Now I am going to keep calling tickets for baskets of random knick-knacks and you will all stay here until the end to listen and complain that you never win anything, all right?!

            Parent 8: If it makes you happy.

            PTO President: It doesn’t!  I’m not even supposed to be PTO President this year but no one else wanted to do it!  This is strictly volunteer and I resent every minute of it!

            Parent 8: Even if it’s for your kid?

            PTO President: My kid graduated last year!  Why won’t you people let me goooooo????? (Sits on the stage to cradle a basket and weep)

            Parent 4: (To Parent 6) Still the best PTO President we’ve had in ages.

"The Long-Distance Big Reveal" by Jennifer E. Pergola

My first performed one-act play, included in "WHODUNNIT?" at The Grange Playhouse on October 28, 2018:

Story 261: Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Terror at a Microscopic Level!

Warning: The following story is not for the faint of stomach!

            Narrator: She thought Evil could not harm her….

            [Shots of haunted woods and disturbed crypts]

            Narrator: She thought she was safe from all nightmares….

            [Shots of bloody fangs and decaying mansions, backed by the sound of a howling werewolf]

            Narrator: SHE – WAS – willfully uninformed.

            [On a creepily sunny day, Oblivia is jogging in the park when she trips over a random rock, falls, and cuts her hand]

           Oblivia: Ow!  Oh well.  (Sucks the wound and jogs right past the conveniently placed running-water bathroom)

          Shadowy Figure: (Peeking around a tree to watch her progress) Heh-heh, what a perfect victim.

            Narrator: She never imagined that danger lurks around every corner….

            [In an office, Oblivia is on the telephone while juggling papers]

           Oblivia: No, I said it was Thursday; why would I have said it was Wednesday when it was Thursday?  (Wipes runny nose with her hand, sniffling loudly) No, I don’t have a cold, and that wouldn’t make me think one day of the week and say another!  (Sniffles louder and wipes her nose again) That doesn’t change the fact that it was still Wednesday!  I mean Thursday, argh!

            Co-Worker: (Holding out a tissue and a bottle of hand sanitizer to her) Please take these, I’m begging you.

            Oblivia: Oh I’m good, thanks.  (Wipes nose yet again and returns to the call) Maybe you need a sick day for your confusion!

            Shadowy Figure: (Leaning out from behind a tall office plant) This is too good.

            Narrator: Nowhere is safe, not even her own home….

            [In her apartment, Oblivia’s friend is reading a magazine in the kitchen.  From the bathroom, the sound of a toilet flush is heard; Oblivia immediately exits and heads to the kitchen to make a sandwich]

            Friend: (Staring at her) Uhhhhh… did you wash your hands?

            Oblivia: What for?  (Assembles the sandwich)

            Friend “What for?”  You were just in the bathroom!

            Oblivia: What’s your point?  (Licks butter off fingers)

         Friend: Ugh!  Ah!  Ugh!  Ugh!  Ugh!  (Flings away the magazine and runs out of the apartment, screaming all the way out of the building)

            Oblivia: Weirdo.  (Eats sandwich)

            [Horror music plays as Shadowy Figure emerges from the darkened hallway]

            Shadowy Figure: Hello there.

          Oblivia: (Mouth full of sandwich) How’d you get in here?  Front door’s that way.  (Horror music cuts off as she points behind her shoulder)

            Shadowy Figure: What?  No, let me start over: (Horror music resumes) I’ve been with you for ages now, following your every move, and it’s about time I introduced myself.  (Hovers menacingly over her)

            Oblivia: I should say so – stalking someone without at least letting them know about it is just plain rude.

           Shadowy Figure: Well, get used to me being here: since I’m your new best friend, you can call me “Sep.”

            Oblivia: “Sept?”  As in “seven?”

            Shadowy Figure: No, “Sep”-puh, it’s – forget it, I’m Sepsis.

            Oblivia: What the blazes does that even mean?

           Shadowy Figure: I am the culmination of basically all the infections, the end result of their mass accumulation inside you.  (Pokes her shoulder, making her drop some potato chips onto the floor)

          Oblivia: Whatever dude, I’m having lunch right now so you can go accumulate inside someone else until I’m done.  (Picks up the chips and eats them)

            Shadowy Figure: Now that’s just – see what you did right there?

            Oblivia: (Mouth full of chips) What, eat?

           Shadowy Figure: Eat food that had fallen on the filthy floor!  Not to mention all those times you didn’t disinfect the scores of cuts, scrapes, and other breaches of your primary defense system!  And don’t get me started on the non-handwashing!

            Oblivia: Again with the handwashing: you people obsess over that way too much and should mind your own business.  (Brushes crumbs onto the floor and licks fingers)

            Shadowy Figure: You fool, don’t you realize that with your every action YOU INVITED US IN??!!

            Oblivia: Who’s “us?”

         (Shadowy Figure points to the living room where a whole host of Shadowy Figures are lounging around)

            Shadowy Figures: Whaaaa s’up!

            Oblivia: Now how did you guys get in here?  Never mind, just get out now; I want to take a nap.

            Shadowy Figure: Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  (Horror music plays louder)

            Oblivia: Well you’re not, so I’m going to nap as much as I darn well please; all y’all can lock the door on your way out, m’kay?  (Coughs a lot into her hand, then opens the door for them to leave)

            Shadowy Figure: (Points to her hand) You see!  It’s stuff like that that’s brought on your own DOOM!

            Oblivia: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t feel particularly doomed.  (Begins shivering)

            Shadowy Figure: (Pulls two other Shadowy Figures out from the crowd) You’ve got influenza –

            Influenza: Hi!  (Is pushed aside)

            Shadowy Figure: – and pneumonia –

            Pneumonia: Yo.  (Is pushed aside)

          Shadowy Figure:  – along with all of them – (Waves at the rest, who wave back) – which weakened you completely, so now, you have ME.  (Lightning flashes and thunder crashes, but there is no rain)

            Oblivia: (Starting to teeter) You, being Sepsis?

           Sepsis: The one and only.  End of the line for you, MWAHAHAHA!  Unless you call 9-1-1 right now.

            Shadowy Figures: Booooo, hissssss!!

            Oblivia: (Pulls phone out of her pocket as she sinks to the floor) But… I never even heard of you…

            Shadowy Figure: Never even – ?!  I kill at least 270,000 people a year!

            Oblivia: Really?

            Shadowy Figure: Yeah.  It’s very serious and sad.  (They stare at the floor for a moment) Still want to be next?

            Oblivia: Ahhhh!!!  (Dials 9-1-1)

            [Cut to Oblivia being wheeled out of a hospital]

            Nurse: You have your discharge instructions?

            Oblivia: Oh yes, and lots of these.  (Holds up a bag of hand sanitizers)

            Nurse: Good.  Be well!

           [Oblivia is driven home by a relative and returns to her apartment bedroom.  As she lies down, ominous music begins to play; she opens her eyes to see Shadowy Figure standing there at the foot of the bed]

            Oblivia: Now what?

           Shadowy Figure: I know you defeated me eventually and all that, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m always here if you find yourself slipping up on the hygiene bit again and – (Is cut off by Oblivia throwing a pillow at it)

           Narrator: Be sure to tune in next time for Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Jaywalking With Danger.  Until then, pleasant dreams.