GETTING OUT

by Marsha Norman
ARLIE: So there was this little kid, see, this creep next door. Had glasses and something wrong with his foot. He was seven,
maybe. Anyhow, ever' time his daddy went fishin', he'd bring back this little kid some frogs. They built this fence around 'em in
the backyard like they was pets or somethin'. An' we'd try to go over and see 'em but he'd start screaming to his mother to
come out and get rid of us. Real snotty like.

So we got sick of him being such a goody-goody an' one night me an' June snuck over there an' put all his dumb ol' frogs in this
sack. You never heard such a fuss. Slimy bastard frogs. We was plannin' to let them go all over the place, but when they started
jumpin' an' all, we just figured they was askin' for it. So, we taken 'em out to the front porch an' throwed 'em one atta time out
into the street. Some of 'em hit cars goin' by but most of 'em got squashed, you know, runned over? It was great, seein' how far
we could throw 'em, over our backs an' under our legs, and man, it was really fun watchin 'em fly through the air then splat all
over somebody's car window or somethin'.

Then the next day, we was waitin' an' this little kid comes out in his backyard lookin' for his stupid frogs an' he don't see 'em an'
he gets so crazy cryin' an' everthin'. So me an' June goes over an' tells him we seen this big mess out in the street, an' he goes
out an' sees all 'em frogs' legs an' bodies all over everywhere, an' man it was so funny. We about killed ourselves laughin'.

Then his mother come out an' she wouldn't let him go out an' pick up all the pieces, so he jus' had to stand there watchin' all the
cars go by smashin' his babies right into the street. I's gonna run an' git him a frog's head, but June yellin' at me, "Arlie, git over
here 'fore some car slips on them frog guts an' crashes into you."

I never had so much fun in one day in my whole life
JANICE
by Susan Pomerance

Janice is awakened to the fact that the boy next door is no longer just the boy next door.

JANICE: How in the world could you ever predict something like this?
It's...I mean, you're so close. We've been neighbors forever, since we were little kids. Playing together, messing around and
stuff. I've always thought of Ralph Merriweather as this little playmate next door, you know? This goofy kid with unruly hair
and a squeaky voice and acne.

How was I to know I'd fall for Ralph Merriweather?

Things change, you know? One day here's this skinny, uncoordinated guy with a big Adam's apple and then, all of a sudden, you
turn around and he's super-neat. One day he's a dork, the next, a hunk.

It happened last night when we went over to the Merriweather's for the holidays like we have since I can remember. Of course,
there was mistletoe. And Ralph grabs me and kisses me, and - wow! All of a sudden like he's not just the little dork next door
anymore. He's like this familiar stranger who turns me on.

Amazing.

After all these years. And now everything is turned upside down. Now I find him handsome and sexy and very interesting.

Why, when we were little, we used to take baths together and I never ever once thought about looking below the water line. I
was more interested in his plastic duck.



THE FANTASTICKS
by Tom Jones

LUISA: This morning a bird woke me up. It was a lark or a peacock, or something like that.
Some strange sort of bird that Id never heard.
And I said Hello. And it vanished: flew away.
The very minute that I said Hello. It was mysterious
So do you know what I did? I went over to my mirror
And brushed my hair two hundred times Without stopping.
And as I was brushing My hair turned gold!
No, honestly! Gold! And then red.
And then sort of a deep blue when the sun hit it. Im sixteen years old,
And everyday something happens to me. I dont know what to make of it.
When I get up in the morning to get dressed, I can tell: Somethings different.
I like to touch my eyelids Because theyre never quite the same.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
I hug myself till my arms turn blue.
Then I close my eyes and cry and cry Till the tears come down
And I taste them.
I am special. I am special. Please God, please Dont let me be normal!
DEMIGOD
by Richard LaGavanese

A young woman does not take it well when her boyfriend leaves her for another woman
WOMAN: I know you're gonna go...I know it. I've been thinking a lot about what you said and I believe that you love me
too...And I understand that she gives you something else, something you need I guess is what you said. I wanted to apologize
for yesterday. I was so confused, you know. I didn't know what to do with myself...I mean, two years... what does a person do?
Do I have a nervous breakdown? Do I start a new career? Do I go and have an affair with O.J. Simpson? I mean, what do I do? I
felt so ugly, Frank, and I don't mean looks, I mean ugly...you know?

Then you held me and touched the back of my neck and kissed me and said the things you said and I felt a lot better. So, I did
our laundry, like I always do on Sundays. And in the middle of folding our bedspread, I noticed your jock strap in the washing
machine. Drowning in the wash cycle. It was twisting and turning, being mangled and manipulated into all sorts of painful
positions. It looked as if it were crying out for help, poor thing. Then the strangest thing...I imagined you were still in it...the
jock strap I mean. I got hysterical. I mean, I couldn't stop laughing. I thought it was the funniest thing I ever thought of...People
started staring at me...a woman came up to me and said I should be careful not to inhale too much of that fabric softener ...
Then all of a sudden I heard your voice. So I ran over to the machine, lifted up the lid, and I could hear you in there, choking in
the Clorox 2 and the Lemon Fab. But I couldn't make out what you were saying, so I yelled, "Frank, what is it, what are you
saying?" And the manager of the laundromat yelled back, "I'm gonna call the police if you don't stop yelling at your wash,
lady!"

It made me think, Frank. It made me think that maybe I'm not handling this too well. I can't drop two years of being lovers and
go back to being friends. We were never friends, Frank. We slept together on the first date, remember? And I know you really
want to leave on good terms, like telling me that you love me and all, but I really think it'll be better if we break up as enemies.
It'll be better for me just to hate you openly instead of being so adult about it, don't you think? I mean, why be adult about it?
So we can meet for lunch and laugh about all this? So you can tell me about your lovers and I can tell you about my lovers? So
we can sleep together for old times sake?

I don't want to be your friend, Frank. I love you , but I never said I liked you.
And if being adult means throwing me away for that slut-rag you picked up on the train platform, then the most mature thing I
could do for you would be to rip your face off.

Yeah! That would make me feel so much better!