Screw You, BlurtHouse!

A Comedy In Four Acts


ACT ONE -- BLURT'S COMPUTER TERMINAL

[Blurt crouches on her desk chair, hunched like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. She is rattling papers like mad. Steam lofts from her ears. The fingers of the left hand of the actress playing Blurt should be in or near her mouth at all times.]

BLURT: shitfuck shitfuck shitfuck shitfuck shitfuck. Whyhaven'tIfinishedgradingthispaperIamtheworstpersonever. My poor correspondence student has called about this paper seventeen times! He keeps asking, why haven't you finished my paper, you unprofessional wreck? And he's right, he's totally right. I suck. Okay, grade. Let's see. Wow. Good introduction! Wait, let me write that...

[typing as she talks]

...like so, okay. Hunh! That's a really terrific sentence! What'd I write on his card last time. Oh yeah. Here. "Doesn't develop argument." Hunh! Well he's certainly developed his ideas this time! I bet it was all my inspiring comments! Lots of improvement here... (suddenly getting it) Shit. Wait a second.

[types some more.]

GOOGLE: (bleep! bleep! blurp!) The-sentences-you-have-requested-appear-on-websites-here,-here,-and-here.

BLURT: (reaches offscreen, grabs phone. pushes random buttons.) Yo, Correspondence Coordinator? Remember that student who's been calling to harrass you about me grading his paper?

CORRESPONDENCE COORDINATOR: I sure do, Blurt.

BLURT: Well guess where his paper came from.

CORRESPONDENCE COORDINATOR: I'm guessing it's not his pretty little head!

[cue Laughtrack.]

[Fade to black.]



ACT TWO -- EMPTY ROOM.

Mystical smoke swirling. Smells like incense in here.

[Blurt sits center stage in the lotus position. Middle fingers and thumbs on each hand meet.

On her face is a grimace.]


[Time passes.]

[Some more time.]

[Blurt leaps up and runs offstage. Runs back on with a gigantic piece of cardboard. On the cardboard is written in block letters large enough for the audience to read: CONTRACT. BLURT WILL GRADE FOR ALL THESE COURSES. SIGNED, BLURT.]


BLURT: AAARGH!


[Rips gigcantic piece of cardboard into tiny little shreds. With her teeth.]

[Fade to black.]



ACT THREE -- BLURTHOUSE TABLE

[On the table sit Lamp and BlurtHouse Phone.]


BLURTHOUSE PHONE: ...


[Conspicuously not ringing to offer well-deserved and lucrative jobs to CV and Blurt.]


[Fade to black.]



ACT FOUR -- CV's COMPUTER TERMINAL

[ Camera rushes out from space in on the blue marble in on the world map in on the continent in on the heartland in on the skyscrapers in on the street grid in on the trees in over to the window of the tiny little house with no garage through the window in toward the laptop and focuses up close on the screen.

Presently, the audience can read the screen. It appears to display an email.]

TO: CV@BLURTHOUSE.COM
FROM: MUCKETY-MUCK@BMU.EDU
SUBJECT: CV! O NO!

BODY: blah blah my most sincere blah blah blah the secretary that quit last week implication snork. What I am trying to say is that the second course we just gave you, we will now have to take away because we accidentally had already promised it to someone else. Conspicuously, however, not to your girlfriend, Blurt, to whom we have promised nothing. Because she has not passed her exams.

Once again my sincere sincerely blah blah blah because words cost us nothing so we may as well apologize. We didn't design the profession either, you know,

BMU

P.S. We hope you guys like ramen!


[Fade to Black]

[FINIS]



[standing ovation]