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SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 1.

Based on true events, but fictional characters. Or maybe the other way around.
Shit, I don't know.

Scene One

At Rise:

The main lobby of The Strom Thurmond


Institute on the campus of Clemson
University in South Carolina. Night. The
lights are low and the marbled room is
portentously silent. The centerpiece of the
room is a large framed portrait of
Thurmond, leering at the viewer from a
plush leather chair, flanked by his vapid and
moonfaced granddaughters.

PISSANT CRACKER enters, wearing a


Clemson nametag reading "Arthur," gently
wiping down the glass display cases.

Suddenly, a terrible rumbling shakes the


lobby. Pissant screams and clutches a pillar.

A glowing green light behind the Thurmond


portrait. The portrait's wooden frame
splinters as THURMOND bursts out and
through the glass display case.

THURMOND
Hells bells! Who here is disturbin' the goddamn eternal rest of goddamn Senator
Strom goddamn Thurmond! There is a strange violation a-takin' place on my
beloved campus!

PISSANT CRACKER
I...I'm sorry sir. I thought I was being quiet--

THURMOND
I don't mean you, you pissant cracker! I smell somethin' brewin' here.
Smells...liberal. All liberal. Artsy, too. Boy, what time is it?

PISSANT CRACKER
Around ten.

THURMOND
The time of year, pissant cracker!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 2.

PISSANT CRACKER
...my name is Arthur...

THURMOND
I don't give a tinker's damn what your name is! You're wearin' this here name tag,
that means you work for me! You hearin' me, boy?

PISSANT CRACKER
Oh yes sir!

THURMOND
Now tell me the time of year.

PISSANT CRACKER
Summer. The campus is near empty.

THURMOND
Hmm...they're here. I know it.

PISSANT CRACKER
Let's see...there's the Future Farmers of America--

THURMOND
(cackles) Hell boy, use your brain! It ain't pig shit I'm smelling. No...this is shit
altogether different. Pretentious. High-minded. Cooperative. Probably a bunch of
communists and homosexuals--it's un-American, is what it is! I won't stand for
that! (pause) And if things ain't changed in this country, I believe I know where
such people'd congregate...

PISSANT CRACKER
There's some people in the theatre building--

THURMOND
The theater! Hells bells, of course. I told them I wanted that there buildin' torn
down, but they wouldn't listen. I said just tear it down, or at the very least name it
after Ronald Reagan. Theater. Ha! Back in my day the word theater meant havin'
to sit through three hours of boys in makeup talkin' to skulls and streetwalkers all
gussied up and playing queens. Then a-tellin' me I'm dumb for not understandin'.
Hell, I know symbols! I know what a cigar stands for--tobacco! A pleasant
experience and a thriving economy! Now, what the hell is these theater people
doing on my hollowed ground?

PISSANT CRACKER
It's called Wordbridge--
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 3.

THURMOND
Hmm! I bet that's a symbol too! Why don't these hippies do something
constructive with their lives and build a real bridge?!

PISSANT CRACKER
The school invites playwrights to come in, and I think they hire actors--

THURMOND
The school? The School?! You mean we are paying for these here degenerates to
fool around and diddle themselves?! That's it! I don't wanna hear another word!

Thurmond raises his hands. Lightning


flashes--thunder booms. The lights flare that
same disgusting green.

PISSANT CRACKER
(cowering)
...and it's been going on--going on for three years--

THURMOND
Not another word--three years? (pause) Hmm. Strange that I was not awoken by
this invasion until now...there must be something different--no matter. You are a
disgrace, Pissant Cracker! To have let this go on for three years! Have you
forgotten everything taught to you in the Strom Thurmond Brand South Carolina
Political Conditioning Compound?

PISSANT CRACKER
The what?

THURMOND
Oh shit, it's worse than I thought. Very well. You will have to do for now--bring
me them playwrights.

PISSANT CRACKER
But sir they don't run the event--

THURMOND
But they be at the center of it! Drop the center out and what have you got! I say, I
say bring them to me!

PISSANT CRACKER
Yessir.

THURMOND
And summon my army!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 4.

PISSANT CRACKER
...how--How do I do that?

THURMOND
Oh for pete's--just get it done, I say!

Pissant Cracker runs out.

THURMOND (cont.)
Hold on, boy!

PISSANT CRACKER
Yessir?

THURMOND
What year is it?

PISSANT CRACKER
2009.

THURMOND
Who done won this last election?

PISSANT CRACKER
Um...(pause) I'm pretty sure...it was...McCain...

THURMOND
Well thank god at least somethin' done turned out right since I been gone. Run
along now!

Pissant Cracker exits.

THURMOND (cont.)
Summon my unholy army of the undead! My sturdy fightin' brothers, washed in
hellfire and ready once again to fight the comin' onslaught of liberal harmony!
(pause) Still. I am disturbed by my awakin' at this moment. I sense the presence
of someone...someone who stands for everythin' I stood against. My greatest
enemy. But can it be? No. No, it can't be! (pause) Never mind all that. Time to
cultivate my powers. The seeds of liberalness have grown in too deep! I say we
gotta cut these bastards off at the root! Nothing can stop me! I say nothing can
stop me!

He cackles. Green lightning flashes.

End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 5.

Scene Two

Outside the dorms where the Wordbridge


playwrights are kept. Later that night.

PLAYWRIGHT ONE, female;


PLAYWRIGHT TWO, female;
PLAYWRIGHT THREE, male. All three of
them stand outside. Playwrights Two and
Three drink beer out of tall plastic glasses.
One furiously scribbles down everything
anyone says.

ONE
I can't drink. I have too many rewrites to do.

TWO
I drink because I have too many rewrites to do.

THREE
I rewrite hung-over.

TWO
Ah.

ONE
Interesting!

THREE
And I do just about everything else hung-over as well.

ONE
It's so great to be able to talk to other writers about their process!

THREE
Sure is.

TWO
Hear hear!

They all three laugh, then quickly return to


an uncomfortable and hostile silence.

TWO
Sometimes when I'm writing a play, I just stop eating until I finish the latest draft.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 6.

ONE
I sometimes do that, but it's usually on purpose, like a hunger strike for Amnesty
International.

TWO
I see.

THREE
I go to grad school, so I don't have money for both food and booze.

ONE
You should join Amnesty International. That way, your not eating anything can
have a positive impact on the world.

THREE
No, I don't care for people.

ONE
Okay.

TWO
Sure. People do that too.

More uncomfortable silence.

THREE
Well...I'm gonna go hit on the script office girls.

ONE
You really shouldn't do that.

TWO
Yeah, you oughta treat them with more respect.

THREE
Hey. All they do is make copies. When one of them saves my life, then maybe I'll
think twice. Of course, something like that will never happen.

Three laughs and exits into his dorm room.

TWO
What an asshole.

ONE
I know, right? And what the hell is his play about anyway?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 7.

TWO
I know, right? You notice how his sentences just go on and on, and in weird like
syntax things and that even in a conversation scene with like five other people--or
even just two people talking--that his characters just keep on going on and on and
no one ever gets interrupted like mid-thought. And he has all these like weird
repetitive things--like you feel like he thinks it's gonna like mean something if he
says the same stupid thing over and over again. Right? People don't talk like that.

ONE
People don't talk like that.

BIRD MAN, a grizzled security guard,


approaches them, flashlight in hand.

ONE (cont.)
Were we making noise?

BIRD MAN
No, not too much.

TWO
I've got my beer in a plastic glass, like we're supposed to. You can't just push us
around like that, man.

BIRD MAN
Actually, ladies...this is about something else. Y'all are gonna have to come with
me.

TWO
What for?

BIRD MAN
We're gonna have to detain you.

ONE
Wait a minute! On who's authority.

BIRD MAN
Young lady...on the highest authority. Strom Thurmond.

ONE
Strom Thurmond! (She makes a note)

TWO
You can't be serious! This is some fucking joke!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 8.

BIRD MAN
I'd appreciate cooperation and this here'll all go real smooth.

TWO
Hey fuck you man!

BIRD MAN
I don't wanna have to use force against you.

TWO
Well there's two of us and only one of you!

At this, a horde of REALLY OLD WHITE


GUYS appears behind Bird Man, lurching
menacingly toward the playwrights. One and
Two scream as they are swept up into the
custody of the horde.

ONE
But I have so many rewrites left to do toniiiiiight...!

The door to Three's room opens. He sees


this happening, and quickly closes the door.
After the horde has disappeared and the
noise has died down, Three slowly enters
from his room--wide-eyed and shaky.

THREE
Holy shit. I gotta go tell someone--

Three tries to escape, but runs directly into


Bird Man, hiding behind a bush.

BIRD MAN
I figured there'd be three of you. Come along son, and don't make a fuss.

THREE
I don't even know what's going on!

With his flashlight, Bird Man conks Three


on the head, knocking him out. Bird Man
looks at Three's prone body and shakes his
head.

BIRD MAN
I'm sorry son. Hell...this is the part of the job I hate.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 9.

He lifts Three onto his shoulder and carries


him away.

End of Scene.

Scene Three

The Script Office. The next morning. RITA


and JAYNE, scurry back and forth between
the many laptops set up, pouring through
reams and reams of paper.

RITA
This is weird.

JAYNE
This is really weird.

RITA
This is hella weird.

JAYNE
Did you hear all that lightning last night? That was creepy as shit.

RITA
You don't hear lightning. You see it. You hear thunder. If I was a dramaturg I'd say
that--

JAYNE
I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!
LORNA storms in through the office door.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 10.

LORNA
Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on and they better do it right now!

RITA
We can't find any of the playwrights yet!

JAYNE
Where could they have gone?!

LORNA
Well that's our fucking job, right? To find out things like that! We're the goddamn
researchers, so let's research, alright?

RITA
But they could be anywhere--

LORNA
But they are somewhere.

JAYNE
We're working our asses off, boss.

LORNA
Well then start working your tits off too! Shit! Three whole playwrights all of a
sudden missing--it doesn't make sense! And in South Carolina--who would want
three playwrights in South Carolina.

JAYNE
We'll figure it out.

LORNA
Well we better, or we're all fucked. I swear to God when I find those three fuckers
I'm gonna kick their asses--Pittsburgh style!

Jayne and Rita roll their eyes.

HANK enters, hobbling slowly with a cane.

HANK
Sorry I'm late. I hate this town. There's too many hills! I have gout, doesn't
anybody understand that?

LORNA
Hank you sack of crap!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 11.

HANK
So what's going on?

JAYNE
Where have you been?

RITA
The playwrights have gone missing! No one knows what to do! The actors are
wandering around, playing mirror games with actual mirrors! The dramaturgs are
all fighting each other out under that big tree! And the directors--my God, the
directors! This is madness! No one's eating the food!

HANK
Oh. Snap.

LORNA
Once again you're fucking late to the party.

HANK
I told you--the hills! The gout! My foot!

LORNA
I'm gonna cut that foot off--Pittsburgh style!

HANK
The playwrights are missing? How'd that happen?

LORNA
That's what we're currently trying to find out! You--wait a minute. Lift up your
cane.

Hank lifts up his cane. Stuck to it is a dirty


sheet of paper.

HANK
I must have picked that up somewhere on my walk over here. I'm always picking
up trash--because of the cane.

RITA
I thought that was because of your cologne.

JAYNE
Oh shit! Zing!

LORNA
Shut up, all of youns. This is a research request form. It says...Strom Thurmond?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 12.

What the hell?

From outside, screams and moans. The


sounds of destruction and people running.

RITA
What's that?

Jayne looks outside.

JAYNE
Everybody's running for their lives--there's all these...it looks like a bunch of old
white men! My God, it is! Really really old white guys! Shorts and dark socks
everywhere! The way they're moving--so slow and lumbering--they're like--like--

RITA
Zombies!

Jayne screams. Hank bursts into tears.

LORNA
Shut the door! Barricade it with the boxes of paper! Rita, start calling everybody
on the call list! Hank for fuck's sake get a hold of yourself!

HANK
I'm scared of zombies. I'm scare of zombies.

Hank hugs Rita and buries his face in her


cleavage. She throws him across the room.

LORNA
We're gonna figure out what the hell's going on right now! This has all gotta be
connected...the playwrights...the zombies...and this.

She holds up the research request.

LORNA (cont.)
Strom Thurmond. I think we should start here--Pittsburgh style.

Suddenly, all the power goes out.

End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 13.

Scene Four

Strom Thurmond's crypt. ONE, TWO, and


THREE bound and gagged against a
column. BIRD MAN stands guard in front
of them.

THURMOND enters, with PISSANT


CRACKER following three steps back.

THURMOND
Well now, let's see what we got. Playwrights, huh? Writin' plays. What the hell
good does that too? Why don't y'all get a real job!? You keep an eye on 'em, Bird
Man.

BIRD MAN
Yessir.

Thurmond turns away from them. Pissant


follows.

THURMOND
These here small fries ain't worth a pot of piss. There's someone else here.

PISSANT CRACKER
Who?

THURMOND
I don't know, pissant cracker! No...there's someone here. The greatest enemy of
everything Strom Thurmond has ever stood for! No...not him. But someone
close...a child, perhaps.

PISSANT CRACKER
I seen a child! Sir, I seen a child!

THURMOND
Here? Right now?

PISSANT CRACKER
Yes sir--the daughter of one of these theatre people!

THURMOND
Bring her to me! Right now! Bring that child to me! Bring her to me so that I
might finally vanquish my foe and all his dreams of freedom and cursed truth-
telling. And the swearin'! By God, why does everybody think they have to be
swearin' all the time? Go, Pissant Cracker! Fly before me!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 14.

Pissant runs away.

THURMOND (cont.)
Now I must prepare myself...for the ritual!

He exits.

One, Two, and Three all look at Bird Man.


Bird Man looks away, trying to ignore them.

BIRD MAN
Y'all brought this on yourselves. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) Hell, I
don't even go to the theater! I like Westerns! Can't ride a horse across a theater
stage. (Pause) I'm just doing my job. (Pause) I ain't got nothing against you
personal. (Pause) The Senator done told me--and he's the boss! (Pause) Hell, I
can't be talking to myself--

Bird Man takes the gags out of the


playwrights' mouths.

ONE
What are we doing here?

TWO
What did he mean? What ritual?

BIRD MAN
I don't know.

ONE
There's gotta be a reason why he's doing this.

TWO
Yeah, like what makes this night different from any other night?

ONE
Yeah, and what does he want to accomplish from all this?

BIRD MAN
Huh. I don't really know. Seems like he's just doing it to...do it.

TWO
Oh. Really?

BIRD MAN
I guess I ain't too clear on what's happening either.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 15.

ONE
That's bad writing.

TWO
It's not bad so much as just lazy.

ONE
Yeah, it's lazy--but I'm gonna go ahead and say bad.

THREE
You can't say bad and Wordbridge.

TWO
Lucky for you.

Bird Man laughs.

ONE
That was a good one! I wish I could write it down!

BIRD MAN
Well...that was a good one...I suppose I could write it down for you.

Bird Man picks up a sheet of paper and


writes on it.

THREE
Hey...I'm writing a Western. A play.

BIRD MAN
Really?

THREE
Yeah. And you don't even need horses. Here--lemme tell you what I've got so far.

End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 16.

Scene Five

The Script Office. The power is still out.


Laptops and cell phones are laid out
everywhere for light.

LORNA sits at her laptop in grim


concentration. Frustrated, she stands and
punches a hole in the wall. JAYNE pours
papers out of the recycling bin and sifts
through them. RITA stares wistfully at the
autographed poster of ROBERT GOULET
hanging on the wall. HANK is curled up in
the fetal position.

RITA
Bobby Goo, tell us what to do. Tell us what to do, Bobby Goo.

JAYNE
He's not gonna talk, Rita.

RITA
I know what I heard!

LORNA
Both of you shut the hell up! Thurmond...zombies...Wordbridge...what's the
connection?

JAYNE
I don't know, but we don't have much longer before the batteries die on the
laptops and then we're in the dark again.

LORNA
Damnit! Hank!

HANK
What?

LORNA
Get out that and turn the power back on.

HANK
Why would you think I know how to do that? Plus, there's zombies!

LORNA
Look up how to do it and then do it! Jesus!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 17.

HANK
I'm really kinda tired and stressed out right now--

LORNA
I will gouge out your eyes and piss on your brain!

Hank quickly sits down at a laptop and starts


looking at things.

JAYNE
Wait a minute! Strom Thurmond! That big creepy underground thing with all the
steps!

RITA
Oh that's right!

LORNA
The Strom Thurmond Institute!

JAYNE
What's down there?

HANK
I'm gonna go dodge zombies and turn on the power in this building...just in case
anyone cares where I'm going...

LORNA
I'll tell you what's down there.

RITA
What?

HANK
...anyone care at all…?

JAYNE
All his papers and shit.

LORNA
Not just that--

RITA
(gasps) No!

HANK
...bye everybody...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 18.

Hank hobbles out.

LORNA
He's down there.

RITA
No!

JAYNE
Really?

LORNA
Yes.

JAYNE
Could it be that--

LORNA
Strom Thurmond commands a zombie army of white guys--

RITA
And has kidnapped our playwrights--

JAYNE
In some sort of scheme to--

LORNA
Rule the world--

RITA
From beyond--

JAYNE
The--

LORNA
Grave?

JAYNE
God, it's so obvious!

RITA
What are we gonna do?

LORNA
No dead racist is gonna steal my playwrights! Not on my watch!
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 19.

Pounding and clawing at the door, low


phlegmy moans from outside. The girls
scream!

JAYNE
Zombies!

RITA
Hide!

LORNA
Grab something! Grab anything you can find!

She grabs a large paper cutter and rips the


blade off, wielding it like a machete. Jayne
digs through her bookbag and pulls out a
rubber mallet.

LORNA (cont.)
What do you have that for?

JAYNE
My bed was too high.

The door breaks apart and the HORDE OF


REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS barrels
through. Rita cowers, clutching the Goulet
poster. As they advance toward her, she
thrusts it out in front of her like a shield.

Suddenly, the sonorous VOICE of Robert


Goulet springs forth from the poster--"Some
Enchanted Evening," or perhaps "The
Impossible Dream." At these dulcet tones,
the horde stops moving. Expressions of
nostalgic calm wash across their faces.

RITA
It worked! I knew it! Oh Bobby Goo, I love you!

She kisses the poster. Goulet winks at her.

LORNA
Get 'em--Pittsburgh style!

The laptops and cell phones all die at once.


SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 20.

The stage is completely dark. We hear the


sounds of intense action with Goulet singing
over it all.

Suddenly, the power is restored and the


room is fully lit once again. Lorna, Jayne,
and Rita stand in triumph above a heap of
motionless old men.

RITA
Hells yes! Zombies can suck my vag!

JAYNE
Hey--wait a minute.

LORNA
What is it?

JAYNE
These aren't zombies at all.

RITA
They're not?

JAYNE
I don't think so. I know my zombies.

LORNA
You mean we just killed a bunch of really old white guys?

JAYNE
Yeah.

RITA
Oh.

LORNA
We should maybe keep that to ourselves. Script Office Secret.

JAYNE
Script Office Secret.

RITA
Script Office Secret.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 21.

LORNA
Let's get the hell outta here.

They run out of the office.

End of Scene.

Scene Six

Elsewhere in the building. An empty


hallway. Baby LOTUS and her plush
MONKEY sit alone.

HANK enters, hobbling.

HANK
...I hope they know how much work that took...and the danger...and my foot...and
other shit. I hope they tell me what a hero I am--

He sees Lotus.

HANK (cont.)
Oh no, baby Lotus! It's too dangerous for you to be out here alone. Let's get you
to the script office.

Behind Hank, the moan of a zombie. He


spins around in fear. While his back is
turned, PISSANT CRACKER runs in,
snatches Lotus, and exits. Hank turns around
to find only Monkey in front of him.

HANK (cont.)
Oops.

End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 22.

Scene Seven

Strom Thurmond's crypt. A kind of unholy


altar has been set up. Atop is sits baby
LOTUS. THURMOND, dressed now in a
long white ceremonial gown, studies her.

THURMOND
Look at you. I wager you don't even know who you are yet. Just a little baby,
same as all them other little babies. Bah! Babies. Got no use for 'em. Got no use
for anybody who ain't old enough to hold a job or vote Republican! But look at
you, little baby. You got inside you everything that I hate! Miscegenation!
Equality! Freedom of speech--what the hell does that even mean! You people's
just guests in this country--my country!--and y'all about to be kicked right on
outta here. Using this country like a doormat--watch out that door don't hit you in
the ass on the way out! Fruity liberal types who think the Republican party is
some big monster thing! There ain't nothing large about us! We don't do nothing
but govern what people's a-doin' with their own bodies! Everything else is left up
to itself. Government can't get much smaller than that! No sir! No sir indeed!
Then you people...with your plays criticizing the good wars and holding up the
degenerates of this country for the world to see. World don't need to see that! No
sir. And I say, I say I don't find comedians to be very funny at all! God ain't never
intended us to laugh! Life is work! Ain't nothin' else! Laughin' weakens the soul.
Like soliciting a prostitute--might be fun, but it'll cost you! (pause) But
you...people. If I can even stand to call you people--you'll get yours one day, and
that day's a comin' round the bend. See...little baby...I do got some use for you. I
am a-gonna steal the life right on outta you! I'm a-gonna steal my enemies'
strength and use it against them to rule this here country from beyond the grave!
Strom's gonna rise again!

Thurmond cackles and lightning flashes.


Lotus seems unimpressed.

End of Scene.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 23.

Scene Eight

The hallway. HANK on all fours, crawling


around. MONKEY sits against the wall
nearby.

HANK
Lotus! Baby Lotus! Shit, where could she have gone? Lorna's gonna kill
me...Pittsburgh style.

LORNA, RITA, and JAYNE enter with their


weapons.

LORNA
Hank, what the hell?

HANK
I turned the power back on!

JAYNE
Shit, we don't need no lights to kill zombies!

RITA
Fuck no, we don't!

They high-five.

LORNA
Wait a minute--where's Lotus?

HANK
I don't know! I saw her and then I turned around for just a second and she was
gone. I mean, she's really small, so she can't have gotten far.

JAYNE
Wait a minute--her Monkey's still here!

RITA
Wait a minute! (Pause. They wait for her to continue.) Oh sorry. I thought we--we
were--playing like a "wait a minute"--thing--you know what, forget it. The
Monkey!

LORNA
She wouldn't have left her Monkey--unless...
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 24.

JAYNE
Unless she was kidnapped!

RITA
Kidnapped by the zombies?

LORNA
No, not zombies. A zombie couldn't do this--

JAYNE
No, it must be some kind of--

RITA
Helper or servant or--

LORNA
Pissant--

JAYNE
And he's probably white--

RITA
Yeah probably.

LORNA
Yeah. Probably. And he must have--

JAYNE
Taken her to--

RITA
The Strom--

JAYNE
Thurmond--

LORNA
Institute!

HANK
We gotta save her!

LORNA
Things might get a little hairy out there. (Points to the cane.) You know how to
use that thing?
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 25.

Hank twirls the cane impressively.

LORNA
(Rolls her eyes.) Jesus...okay! Let's get the hell outta here. Hank, grab Monkey.

HANK
Why do I have to--

JAYNE and RITA


I will fuck you up, I swear to God!

Hank picks up Monkey and they all run out.

Scene Nine

The crypt. ONE, TWO, and THREE are still


tied up, but BIRD MAN sits on the floor
with One's notepad, taking notes as they
talk.

THREE
So the idea is like the building of civilization--

ONE
Yeah.

THREE
Because every Western is a creation story, you know it's like, um...

TWO
Shit coming from nothing--

ONE
Yeah, and the good guys defeating the bad guys, it's like it's the first time that
that's ever happened in the world.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 26.

BIRD MAN
Hmm. That's a real smart way of lookin' at things, I gotta hand it to you. So in a
Western, hell, you don't even need horses! You just need people!

THREE
That's what the theatre is all about.

BIRD MAN
I ain't never thought about it in such a way. (pause) Hell, you wouldn't even need
cowboy hats. You could even use other kinds of hats from them old days, like
derbys and such.

ONE
That's a pretty good idea.

TWO
Yeah. Hey Bird Man, you could be a dramaturg.

BIRD MAN
What's a dramaturg do?

TWO
As little as possible.

One laughs.

THREE
Hey-oh!

TWO
Yeah but seriously, no one knows what a dramaturg does. Not even most
dramaturgs.

BIRD MAN
Do you at least make a decent living at it?

All four of them break into gales of hearty,


genuine laughter.

BIRD MAN (cont.)


You know what, y'all? I hate doing this kinda work. I never fit in with these here
people. And some days I just wish I was some place else...and today is one of
those days. (Pause) Alright, I'm through with this shit!

Bird Man stands and starts untying the


playwrights.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 27.

ONE
What's going on?

BIRD MAN
I'm setting y'all free and we're getting on outta here. I don't work for no Strom
Thurmond no more!

THURMOND appears.

THURMOND
I heard my name!

The playwrights scream. PISSANT


CRACKER enters with the HORDE OF
REALLY OLD WHITE GUYS.

PISSANT CRACKER
Stop right there! Bird Man what in the hell do you think you're doing!

BIRD MAN
I'm taking these young people outta here! I'm quitting my post and if any of y'all
gets any funny ideas to try and stop us, y'all gonna feel the business end of this
here flashlight! Thurmond, I've had it up to here with your hatefulness and
prejudice! These ain't bad people! These are good people and they do good things!
Hell, there ain't nothing like entertainment!

Thurmond raises his hands. The green


lightning flashes and covers Bird Man. He
collapses to the ground, dead. The
playwrights gasp. Three falls to his knees.

THREE
(to the heavens)
BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDD
MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THURMOND
Now that that shit's outta the way, it is time for The Ritual! Bound those
whippersnappers!

The Horde grabs the playwrights.

PISSANT CRACKER
Everything is prepared, master.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 28.

THURMOND
Excellent. Bring me...The Child.

Pissant Cracker exits, returns with LOTUS


in his arms. He sets her upon the altar.

THURMOND (cont.)
I say I say let this Ritual begin!

Thurmond raises his hands. Rumbles,


lightning flashes! He intones in an ancient,
unspeakable language.

ONE
This is really bad, guys.

TWO
Yeah it is. Hey...do you hear something?

THREE
Yeah, it kinda sounds like...

ONE and TWO


Robert Goulet?

At this, one of the crypt walls crashes apart!


The silken syllables of Robert Goulet
overpower the Horde as the SCRIPT
OFFICE GIRLS (and HANK, with
MONKEY) ride onstage on a tractor reading
"Future Farmers of America" on its side.
Weapons drawn, they jump off the tractor
and strike a fearsome pose.

LORNA
If you touch one hair on that baby's head I cut out your heart, dip it in ranch
dressing, and eat it at the barbecue on Sunday!

HANK
(shocked)
Holy shit, Lorna...

JAYNE and RITA


Shut up.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 29.

THURMOND
I say that's some big talk, missy. Let's see what my unholy minions got to say
about that! Get 'em, boys!

The Horde doesn't move.

PISSANT CRACKER
Get them! What's the matter with you!

JAYNE
Keep it up, Bobby Goo!

Thurmond raises his arms. Green light down


on the Goulet poster. It falls apart in Rita's
arms. The other girls gasp. She falls to her
knees.

RITA
(to the heavens)
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBBBBBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
GGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!

THURMOND
Attack!

The Horde attacks. A battle rages--Lorna


fighting with her machete, Jayne with her
mallet, Hank with his cane, and Rita with
fists of fury. The playwrights cower in abject
terror, as they are wont to do.

Thurmond continues his Ritual as the battle


rages. Lorna tries to battle through the horde
and get to the altar.

Pissant Cracker grabs Jayne by the


shoulders. She struggles.

PISSANT CRACKER
You're not going anywhere! I'm far too strong for you!

Jayne contorts her body and wriggles out of


his grasp. She mallets his head.

JAYNE
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 30.

Yoga, bitch!

One of the Horde has Rita pinned to the


wall. She kicks him in the crotch and he
keels over.

RITA
Nuts!

The Horde is defeated! Lorna has made it to


the altar. Thurmond crosses between she and
Lotus.

THURMOND
Hold it right there missy! You come just about far enough! You take one step
closer and this little girl is dead!

JAYNE
Oh shit! What are we gonna do?

RITA
I miss Bobby Goo!

THURMOND
I could use a young missy like you to carry out my will.

LORNA
I already got a job.

THURMOND
This one pays better than you could imagine. What do you say?

LORNA
I say we don't work for the fucking pay!

The Script Office Girls cheer!

THURMOND
You're already too late. The Ritual is nearly done and with one touch of my finger
I will steal this baby's life force and rule this country forever!

The evil green light floods the entire stage!

Thurmond slowly pushes his withered,


decrepit finger toward Lotus.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 31.

Monkey, still in Hank's hands, suddenly


speaks.

MONKEY
Throw me up there!

HANK
What?!

MONKEY
I said throw me up there, motherfucker!

Hank throws Monkey toward the altar.


Lorna catches it. Lotus laughs and claps her
hands.

THURMOND
What in tarnation?!

MONKEY
Hey what's the difference between an old white man and an outhouse? One's full
of shit--and the other's an outhouse!

Thurmond giggles. A moment. He laughs


louder. Then louder. Soon his entire body is
convulsing with high shrieks of laughter.

The crypt starts to shake. The walls start to


come down. Thurmond's grows louder and
more destructive.

Lorna grabs Lotus and they jump down.

LORNA
Take cover--Pittsburgh style!

The CRYPT COMES CRASHING DOWN!

A moment passes, and the Script Office


Girls emerge from their cover.

RITA
Is everyone okay?

HANK
My foot--I mean, I'm fine.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 32.

JAYNE
Is baby Lotus alright?

LORNA
She's good. Where are the playwrights?

ONE
We're here!

TWO
That was amazing!

THREE
I think my arms have been crushed!

LORNA
Whatever.

Suddenly, Thurmond bursts out of a pile of


rubble. The playwrights scream!

Thurmond can't bring himself to stand. He


collapses, near death.

THURMOND
Who...who are all of y'all?

Lorna approaches, puts a leg up on his pile


of rubble. She sticks a lit cigar in her mouth.

LORNA
We're the Script Office Girls.

Thurmond disappears back into the darkness


from which he came. Everyone cheers!

HANK
I LOVE THIS TOWN!!

JAYNE
Hey...what time is it?

RITA
11:30.
SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS by Fancher 33.

MONKEY
We gonna pitch a bitch at 11:30!

DANCE MUSIC STARTS. The girls dance


and celebrate. Lotus hugs Monkey and claps
along with the music.

Suddenly, DAVE WHITE enters. The music


stops.

DAVE WHITE
I've been looking everywhere for guys!

LORNA
We've been a little fucking busy!

DAVE WHITE
I need your help.

JAYNE
What's the matter?

DAVE WHITE
You guys need to find something. Immediately.

RITA
What do you need to find?

DAVE WHITE
Gold.

HANK
Gold?

DAVE WHITE
Solid Gold!

THE END!!!

The Script Office Girls will return in...

SCRIPT OFFICE GIRLS: THE LEGEND

OF CHARNEY'S GOLD

Coming Soon!