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Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
Wolsam
(There is a single old-fashioned street lamp in the middle of the stage) (Enter Wolsam, wearing a black beret, jeans, and a dark shirt) W: Alas, I starve--I perish! I must eat, else I die accompanied by a lengthy monologue! (Enter Deus Ex Machina, stage right, cloth�d in white and bearing gifts) DEM: Beholdeth, thou arteth savedeth! I bringeth thee a hamburger from far beyond this street; also a free carbonated beverage and a ketchup packet. Thou wilteth not starveth! (Exit DEM, stage right, sans gifts) W: Jubilation and delight! The first level of self-actualization hast been achieved! Wolsam is moving up in the world! (Cue wind, represented by noisy fans and a figure waving scarves) W: I am without shelter, but as long as this hamburger warms my gastro-intestinal tract I shall survive, and verily so! (Cue thunder, lightning, rain) W: Oh, I perish! I am merely man pitted against the elements, and am inexplicably reminded of a Hemingway novel! Let the lengthy monologue begin! (Enter DEM, stage left, cloth�d in blue) DEM: Fear not this torrent, nor these deadly electric charges accompanied by dramatic flashes of light that are attracted to objects such as this lamp! I bring thee a shelter in which to rest thy weary head and call home! (DEM beckons to the wings, and Assistants enter bearing cardboard box) W: This appears to be a remarkably flimsy cardboard box, easily destroyed by the slightest meteorological whim. DEM: It's...um...a magic box. Yes. Magical. Very magical. Art thou not grateful? W: Um...magical? DEM: There is also a free cookie inside. W: Hurrah! I rejoice in the magical domicile, and the free cookie! (Exit DEM and Assistants, stage left) (W climbs into box) (Storm dies) W: As the world around me moves, I am an island of loneliness in a sea of cheer. I still have half a cookie and this happily paranormal box, yet I crave something more than this mundanity can offer... (Music starts up) W: 'Cause there's nobody who cares about me/I'm just a soul who's/Bluer than blue can be/When I get that mood indigo/I could lay me down and die... (Enter DEM, stage right, cloth�d in green, bearing gift; music ends abruptly) DEM: Fret not, good Wolsam! Thy self-actualizationic salvation is at hand! Behold, I have brought thee a Tribble to keep thee company! It will not run away, for it loves all things and reproduces like a cross between a rabbit and an amoeba. W: What about Klingons? DEM: Art thou a Klingon? W: Erm, I don't think so... DEM: Then thou shouldst fall silent already and take the Tribble. Verily, it is adorable and fuzzy. W (taking Tribble from DEM): Verily! My life hast been rejuvenated! Truly shall I love this Tribble, and I shall call him Fluffykins. (Exit DEM, stage right) W: O frabjous day! Fluffykins, you shall live in my humble--yet supernatural--dwelling, and merrily snuffle through life in all comfort I can afford. I shall take up Tribble breeding, and your line shall be the finest in the land! (lights down; possible intermission, or something) W: Alas, my soul cries out for recognition! Beyond doubt I am one of the greatest Tribble breeders in the history of Tribble breeding, a tricky science at best, yet never have I received one compliment on my sterling work. A monologue rises in my throat! (Enter Judges, Other Contestants, and Champion Tribbles from stage right, bearing tables and arranging themselves around W accompanied by Bud Powell's 'No Problem') (Enter DEM, stage left, cloth�d in purple, bearing trophy) (music fades (it's eleven minutes long, you can't wait around all day) DEM: Beholdeth! The judges told me to give you this! W: Earnestly? DEM: Earnestly. W: Then who is that imposter they are even now handing a ribbon marked 'First Place' to? DEM: Bah. A mere farce. They also told me to tell you that they think you are a unique and marvelous individual, with very good hair. W: I trust thee implicitly! My heart warms at this appreciation bestowed upon me! (Exit all but W) W: Confident within myself, I now embark upon a quest to become all I can be as a person and professional Tribble breeder! (Enter DEM, stage right, cloth�d in red, accompanied by trumpet fanfare, possibly Handel) DEM: Congratulations! Climb that summit of self-actualization! No longer shall thy monologues consist of angst and rain, but rather they shall be formed of sunshine and daisies! W: And Tribbles! DEM: And Tribbles! W: I am off to a new world! DEM: Very well, then, come along. Don't forget the magical box. (Exit W and DEM, stage right, carrying box) (Lamp extinguishes)
Lyrics from Louis Armstrong's Mood Indigo; Tribbles and related from Gene Roddenberry's Star Trek series. |