Obedience.

Lights rise to reveal a large table where a disheveled man wearing highly ordained clothing topped off by a shining crown on his head is sitting down at a table by himself with a small bell in front of him. He sits there a moment, and then becomes to grow impatient and look around, as if expecting to see someone coming. In his looking around the room, he notices the bell, and his impatience vanishes. He picks up the bell and gives it one quick dings. Instantaneously, eight well liveried servants walk quickly and purposefully onto stage carrying all sorts of ornaments, which they place ceremoniously onto the table. One holds a large covered platter in his hand and stands behind and to the left of the King, while the rest of the servants set the table and then take their places standing in a line behind the King.

When the hustle and bustle is finished, the servant with the platter gracefully takes a step forward and places the platter directly in front of the King. He then resumes his place behind and to the left of the King. The King incredulously stares at the covered platter. He crosses his arms and glares for a beat. Upon realizing that none of the servants were doing what he wanted done, he picks up the bell and gives it one little ding. The Servant that had brought in the platter takes one-step forward turns to face the King, and bows. The King glares up at him, and points angrily at the platter. The servant suddenly becomes very nervous, hesitating a second, not understanding the kings request. The King notices his hesitance, and furiously picks up gives the little bell three little dings. Instantly two guards march flawlessly on from stage right and across, grabbing the crying servant as they pass by and exiting stage left.

The King sulks for a second longer before giving his little bell one little ding. Instantly the line of servants behind him all shift one to the left as the farthest over goes to stand where the recently apprehended servant had been. Another servant enters from stage right taking his place at the back of the line so that the number of servants remains at eight. The King glares up at the servant now at his side, before pointing sternly at the platter still sitting in front of him on the table. Without missing a beat the servant gracefully removes and holds the cover to the platter in his hands as he goes to stand directly behind and to the left of the King. The King’s frustration seems to vanish at his first sight of the small bowl sitting directly in the center of the large platter, and he even smiles a little as he gives his little bell two little dings. Instantly the newest servant, the one farthest to the right walks up to the table and begins wafting the scent of the soup into the Kings nostrils. The King closes his eyes and sighs in happiness.

He then gives his little bell one little ding, and the servant carrying the platter cover steps up lifting the spoon from the left of the bowl and proceeds to take a the smallest of scoops from the bowl and bring it to his mouth. Upon seeing the servant swallow, and being satisfied, the King dings his little bell twice and the servant to his right immediately stops wafting the scent and picks up the spoon to the right of the bowl, and slowly spoon feeding the King. After the King is distracted, the servant to his left spits out his food into a napkin. After a moment of him eating, the King begins to look sickly. He begins to convulse a little, trying to keep his food down. He then begins to look in pain, and soon his head flops down onto the table motionless.

The two servants directly to either side of the king inspect his body, and once ascertaining that he is in fact not alive, the one to his left takes his little bell and begins banging it loudly as the rest of the servants burst out in cheer. Blackout.

Fin.

Choices.

Lights rise to reveal a small boy center stage in a single spot light. In front of the boy lies a plain knife. He takes a moment to inspect wondrously and then pick up the knife, and inspect it ever so curiously.

After a moment, the boy looks to his right where a spotlight rises, revealing a scared young man wearing the same clothes as the boy, walking by a bakers table. While the Large Baker isn’t looking, he stabs a loaf of bread with his knife, letting it slide off into his pouch, before running out of the spotlight quickly. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife. The boy stares at his knife, confused.

After a moment, the boy looks to his left where an excited young man wearing the same clothes as the boy is digging furiously at the lock to a chest with his knife, he finally breaks it open and opens the chest to reveal gold coins; joy visible on his face. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife. The boy stares at his knife in amazement.

After a moment, the boy looks to his right where a spotlight rises, revealing a man dressed the same as the boy is happily cutting a loaf of bread with his knife while the little girl looks up excitedly, and the man ruffles her hair. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife. The boy stares at his knife, almost warmly.

After a moment, the boy looks to his left where a spotlight rises revealing a man wearing the same clothes as the boy angrily taking a coin from a little girl, and smacking her with the handle of his knife while she cries out in pain. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife. The boy stares at his knife, shocked.

After a moment he turns to his right where a spotlight rises to reveal a Young Lady, wearing the same clothes as the girl, lying on the floor, dead. An Old Man wearing the same clothes as the boy rushes in with a loaf of bread. He finds that he is to late. As tears run down his face, the old man takes his knife and stabs it into his own chest and crumples to the ground next to the young lady. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife. The boy stares at his knife, trembling with fear.

After a moment he turns to his left where another spotlight rises to reveal an old man wearing the same clothing as the boy struggling frantically to stop a Young Lady, wearing the same clothing as the girl, from stabbing him with the knife, she looses her balance and the old man ends up thrusting the knife into her chest. She slumps to the feet of the astounded Old Man. The spotlight fades, leaving only the boy and his knife.. The boy stares at his knife, terrified at what he holds in his hands.

After a moment, spotlights on both sides of the boy rise to reveal all the members of the Boys possible futures staring gauntly at him, beckoning him to come to their side. The Boy first looks to one side, then to the other. As he does so, a dim path of light illuminates towards either side, and disappears when he looks away. Not knowing what to do the boy begins to sob openly. The members of his possible futures begin beckoning more insistently, and their spotlights become brighter as the Boys center spotlight slowly starts to become dimmer. Upon seeing this the boy frantically looks from side to side, illuminating paths as he does so. He holds up the knife in his hands, and after a moment of realization, throws it into the darkness behind him. His spotlight stops fading. After a moment of relief, the knife slides across the floor from the darkness to come to rest at his feet. The boy stares in horror at the knife. The middle spotlight begins to lessen again. He picks up the Knife, his knees shaking as he bends down. As his middle spotlight is almost diminished he pulls from his pocket a single coin, and taking one last quick glance in either direction flips the coin into the air and catches it with one hand covering it. As he uncovers it his whole body shakes with fear and confusion. As he lifts his hand to see what it is, he turns to his right… and slowly, shakily, still sobbing, takes one shaky step onto the illuminated path; as soon as he does all the lights behind him instantly go to black. He slowly follows the illuminated path to his future. With every step the light behind him disappears, until he finally reaches his future, and looks into three sets of his own eyes. All lights fade.

Fin.

Safety.

Lights rise to reveal a commercial airliner filled with people making the most of their traveling time, reading, talking lowly, and such; Each and every one with their safety belts fastened. One young Man wearing a rather fashionable hat and glasses sits sleeping with his head resting on the back of his seat. The Intercom kicks in suddenly and the voice of the Pilot is heard.

Pilot:

Ahh, folks, this is you’re Captain speaking, could you all just answer one question for me… How are y’all doing tonight?! You havin’ a good time? Those stewardess’ treatin’ you alright?

Pause, no one responds, except the man who had been sleeping wakes up at the sound of the intercom.

Alright, now folks, I’m gonna need a more enthusiastic response then that. I’ll give you another chance, How are y’all doin’ tonight?!

A couple passengers chuckle, otherwise no response.

People, I asked you a question. As your Captain I am ORDERING you to answer it! Answer the question or I swear I will fly this plane right into that mountain coming up!

The young man begins to look around frantically, while the rest sit pleasantly doing the same things they had been doing before.

I’m going to count to three, and if I don’t hear a noteworthy amount of sound from you people, I am so gonna kill us all; you mark my words, if I reach three and you people haven’t shown me some common courtesy as your captain, and superior, I swear to God I will kill all of us! One!

Still, no one but the young man with a fashionable hat and glasses is at all disturbed, and he is frantically looking around for some other indication that others can hear the Captain, but no one is showing any indication that they can.

Two!

The frantic young man undoes his seat belt and jumps up out of his seat, runs to pound his fists on the door to the cockpit while yelling at the top of his lungs.

Man:

(Desperately)

I’m doing just fine, sir… captain, sir!

Everyone on the plane looks shockedly at the Man as soon as he jumps up. A slight murmur is heard throughout the stage. The man looks around sweating nervously and panting from his panicky ordeal. The Pilots voice is heard once again over the intercom.

Pilot:

I’m being told that there is a man who does not have his seat belt fastened, even though the safety belt light is clearly on. Congratulations to all but that one man, you’ve passed the mandatory emergency situation simulation, and we will be taking off as soon as the only one stupid enough to panic and remove his safety belt when a crash was imminent is removed by security.

Two husky men come and apprehend the bewildered Man, dragging him out the door.

Have a nice flight, everyone.

Lights Fade.

Fin.

Praise.

Lights rise, revealing one MAN up against a wall opposite a line of five soldiers, guns raised as a firing squad. The MAN does not seem afraid, and is even smirking a bit.

Soldier One:

(Shouting Orders)

Alright, on three men! One, TWO…

Man:

(Interrupting, very courteously)

That’s a mighty fine rifle you’ve got there sir.

Each of the Soldiers smirks proudly eyeing their own rifles lovingly before responding.

Soldiers:

(Ad Lib)

Why thank you!/ That’s kind of you./ Well. Hey, you know what you’re talking about.

After uttering these thanks, each of the soldiers instantly glares at his fellow soldiers. The MAN continues to smirk.

Soldier Four:

(Assertive)

He was speaking about my rifle.

Soldier Three:

(Incredulous)

He most certainly was not! This man has finer taste then to have been talking of anyone’s rifle but my own.

Soldier Two:

Now wait one second there, why couldn’t the gentleman have been speaking about my rifle?

Soldier Five:

Because your rifle wouldn’t be considered fine by your own mother!

Soldier One:

Why don’t we simply ask the fine young lad whose rifle he was speaking of?

All the soldiers affirm enthusiastically at the idea.

What say you, Sir, Mind telling us who you meant to give that praise to?

The MAN nods his head courteously.

Man:

Certainly. I was speaking of the one with those shiniest of boots, of course.

Soldiers:

(Ad Lib)

I knew it!/ See, I told you it was myself./ I don’t see why there was a dispute at all!

As soon as they are finished spewing out there relieved assurances, all the soldiers twist angrily to face each other furiously; no longer paying attention to or aiming their rifles at the MAN. They immediately begin yelling furiously at each other creating chaos, pointing fingers, without many recognizable words. After a moment, Soldier One regains order, barely.

Soldier One:

(Irritated)

Since you foul dogs cannot tell a well polished boot when you see one, we’ll just have to ask that strapping young man, as a fine outstanding citizen, to specify.

The soldiers grudgingly nod, still glaring at one another.

So, very sorry to bother you again, old friend, but some of my men seem to be lacking enough intelligence to determine that you were complimenting my boots, could you maybe bear with their slowness and explain plainly whose boots you meant?

Man:

(Quite Politely)

Oh, no problem, sir of course I’m happy to oblige. The one who I was speaking of…

All the Soldiers catch their breaths nervously.

Was that man right there with that most well ironed Uniform.

The Soldiers exhale and are all visibly relieved, immediately they each realize what the others are thinking, and they instantly turn their guns on each other, enragedly shouting how the MAN was talking about their own uniform and firing a shot. All the soldiers drop to the ground at the same time. The MAN smirks as he collects himself, and confidently walks across the soldier’s bodies offstage. Lights fade.

Fin.