So my erstwhile friend Eric Otis Scott and I are writing a send-up of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, entitled Guildencrantz and Rosenstern are Still Dead. A Oneact Play, in Five Acts. Characters are Carl Sagan (the cosmologist), Davey Boy Sarte (Jean-Paul’s bastard love child), and Mr. Haney of Petticoat Junction. Eric wrote the first scene, and here’s the second installment. SCENE TWO
[SAGAN is moderately confused for the duration, while SARTE is for the most part annoyed with his companions]
HANEY: How are they cooking this sushi?
SAGAN: But don’t you understand what I’m saying? What do you think?
HANEY: Wouldn’t medium rare be good?
SAGAN: Do you think Fermat’s work is even relevant?
HANEY: Is their broiler gas or wood burning?
SAGAN: Haven’t we been over this already? Does heat generation affect the universe on a fundamental level?
SARTE: (mutters as an aside) God, How did I make such friends?
HANEY: Are your ideas in a communicable language?
SAGAN: How dare—
SARTE: (louder and frustrated) Don’t you realize that you can’t have a conversation if you both talk about different things?
[pause]
HANEY & SAGAN: (surprised, and shocked. The Question is drawn out and over inflected) WHAT?!?!?
HANEY: How were we talking about different things?
SARTE: If you didn’t notice, then can’t you just trust me?
SAGAN: But if the universe is so large, and heat generation is irrelevant, then… wait, how can you cook sushi? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of sushi?
SARTE: What is sushi anyway?
SAGAN: Don’t you eat? Can’t you see that we’re in a sushi restraint?
SARTE: (annoyed) Do you think that answers my question Mr. Marx?
[pause]
SAGAN: Pardon? Why should we answer your questions, and who is this Mr. Marx character?
SARTE: Isn’t that your name?
SAGAN: My name?
HANEY: (interjects, feeling left out) Do you think it’s my name then?
SARTE: (ignores HANEY). Isn’t that your name?
SAGAN: What’s my name?
SARTE: (irritated). You don’t know your own name?
HANEY: Why should physicists need to know their own names? Aren’t they almost gods or something? Shouldn’t we order our food so they can start cooking it?
SARTE: (sardonically, emphasis on you, a la strongbad) How would you propose cooking sushi?
SAGAN: Are you saying that I’m a god?
HANEY: Do you mean that they aren’t going to cook are food? Isn’t that cheap of them? I wonder if it’s safe?
SARTE: You’re a physicist? Weren’t you a friend of my father?
HANEY: Your father was friends with Marx?
SARTE: Didn’t you know that my father had a lot of friends?
HANEY: I wonder what that says about your lineag?
SARTE: Well isn’t it kind of hard to sink below bastard love child?
HANEY: Isn’t bastard love child, a redundant statement?
SAGAN: Who is this Mark bloke, didn’t my mother always call me Carl?
SARTE: Oh, so you’re Carl the physicist?
SAGAN: Did you think my name was Mark?
HANEY: Didn’t you hear him say Marx, and not Mark?
SAGAN: (confused) Pardon?
SARTE: Don’t you think we’ve spent enough time on this subject? Aren’t you two ready to eat?
HANEY: (annoyed) What have I been saying for the past hour?
SAGAN: (high pitched, fast, moderately insane) Has it been an hour? How do you know that much time has passed? Can you be sure that time is constant?
SARTE: Waiter? Waiter? Can we have a waiter over here?
[blackout… curtain]