Proof of Higher Education

Dear Internet,

I went to Vermont! It was strategic.

For those of you who do not know and/or are too lazy to look two posts back where I talked about it, I am a candidate for a Master’s of Fine Arts in Writing at Goddard College in Plainfield, VT. This means once a semester I go to Vermont for a week for to absorb arcane teachings and amazing people. Actually, I mostly hang out with the people and talk about books and stuff…there’s less absorption going on than with the teachings.

ANYWAY. I have proof that I’m doing Master’s Level Work…and by that I mean the following very silly play I wrote during residency…

Sherwood

Scene: Two desks and chairs sit on the stage, facing each other, each in their own pool of light. Each has a laptop on the desk. On the left sits ROBIN HOOD, wearing a green jerkin, skin-tight green leggings, boots, and his signature pointed green hat. On the right sits the SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM, a portly man wearing an unbuttoned navy collared shirt with a white undershirt beneath. The SHERIFF has a beer in hand and is reading a Men’s Health with a stony expression. ROBIN clicks aimlessly at his computer.

ROBIN

Next…Hi there, hotness, where are you from…oh. Really. What monastery? Yeah, that’s a little weird. No, it’s not you, there was this thing that happened when I was a kid. With a priest. Next… Maid who? You want to show me what? Oh my god, ew. Blocked.

The SHERIFF sighs and turns to the computer screen. He clicks something open.

ROBIN

Next…

ROBIN

Oh my god! Sheriff! I didn’t know you did Chatroulette!

He immediately sits up straighter and leans in.

SHERIFF

(crosses arms) Mr. Hood. I didn’t know there was internet service in the forest.

ROBIN

You only assume I’m in the forest. (raises eyebrows saucily) No, really, though, we get wireless. You don’t have any fancy tracking software, do you? You’re not going to storm the compound, guns ablaze?

He seems oddly excited at the prospect. The SHERIFF stares.

SHERIFF

I’m off duty.

ROBIN

Oh. Interesting. And who is the Sheriff of Nottingham, off duty?

SHERIFF

Same as I am on duty.

ROBIN

So single-minded, over-vigilant, and vicious, then? But not in uniform, which is a little unfortunate, I must say. I like seeing that big old ring of keys at your belt. Keys to the kingdom, and all that.

SHERIFF

You think I’m vicious?

ROBIN

Oh, I know it. (Beat.) So, no Mrs. Of Nottingham?

The SHERIFF takes a swig off his beer.

SHERIFF

No.

ROBIN

That sounds like some hurt feelings, if I’m any judge.

SHERIFF

You’re not.

ROBIN

(sighs) So, have you figured out where my secret forest lair is yet?

SHERIFF

You think I’d be sitting on my ass at home if I had?

ROBIN

You know, Sheriff, we used to play such devious little games, and now it seems like you hardly have the time for me. We never have fun anymore.

SHERIFF

Huh. You sound like my wife.

ROBIN

I thought there was no Mrs. Notty.

SHERIFF

She left me six months back.

ROBIN

No! Bitch.

The SHERIFF swigs his beer again and shrugs.

SHERIFF

It is what it is.

ROBIN

You know, Sheriff, I’ve never told you this, but I admire you very much.

The SHERIFF is taken by surprise. His beer freezes mid-swig.

SHERIFF

You do?

ROBIN

Kind of awkward, I know, us being enemies and all. But you just have this… animal magnetism, know what I mean?

SHERIFF

Animal? What do you mean, animal?

ROBIN

Like you’re some sort of…badger. A sexy badger.

SHERIFF

That’s dumb. Badgers don’t do shit. I think of myself as more of a wolf.

ROBIN

I could get behind that. (Beat.)

SHERIFF

Just what are you after, Mr. Hood?

ROBIN

I keep thinking how…satisfying it would be to meet an old enemy on equal ground.

SHERIFF

What, you think you could take me or something?

ROBIN

You have no idea what I could do to you.

The SHERIFF is silent and looks away from the computer for a beat. When he speaks, it’s quiet and furtive.

SHERIFF

There’s a motel on the edge of the forest.

ROBIN

Be there in twenty. It’s a duel.

Lights down on desks. There’s a brief sound of animalistic noises in the darkness as the scene changes: grunting, panting, and howling. Lights up on a bed. ROBIN is sitting in bed, on top of the sheets, wearing only his tights and smoking a cigarette. The SHERIFF is cuddled up next to him, wearing only novelty heart boxer shorts. The rest of their clothes are scattered all over the room. Next to the bed, a side table is covered in an oversized key ring loaded with keys, an ashtray, and a pack of cigarettes.

ROBIN checks to see if the SHERIFF is really asleep. He is. ROBIN grins. He carefully slides out of bed, grabs his shirt and boots, dons his cap, and slowly picks up the keys. He tiptoes to the exit, then pauses, turning back.

ROBIN

Catch you later, darling.

He blows a kiss as the sleeping SHERIFF and then leaves.

The sound of a truck roars from offstage. The SHERIFF wakes and discovers that Robin has gone. He spots the lack of keys on the bedside table. He tugs at his hair and lets out a howl of fury. He storms around the room, kicking at the bed, tearing at the sheets, ripping at his clothing. Finally he settles on the edge of the mattress and looks at the cigarette butt in the ashtray. He picks it up and twists it wistfully between thumb and forefinger.

SHERIFF

God damn it, old man. You’re such a fool.

Blackout.

***

Yep. I am totally getting an advanced degree. And using it for good.

Cheers,

Anne