Leslie Blackwell Leslie Blackwell
Recommendations: 21

Ah the Ginsu knife. I remember the adverts well, someone cutting through a shoe it still apparently being sharp enough to keep slicing other things. But wait there's more...

Leslie Blackwell Leslie Blackwell
Recommendations: 21

almost drops her chop in feverish excitement ( great line)

Leslie Blackwell Leslie Blackwell
Recommendations: 21

Nah the Ginsu would have been better.

Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

Possibly, although, I wanted to tie it all up into a neat little package, minus the possibility of excessive gore. Besides if it were ever adapted to film, I wanted to spare the f/x man all that messy catsup.

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Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

Betrayed


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I'm not exactly sure where this one came from. Perhaps, it might have wandered in from left field.


Betrayed- A One Act Play


The Player- John Powell, an editor of a multi-million dollar publishing conglomerate.
Scriber- His wife of 3 years.


Curtain rises up to reveal a domestic scene. One man and a women are sharing a candle-light dinner.The man is elegantly attired. The woman, on the other hand, is shabbily dressed. The mood is decidedly... pensive, contrary to the romantic setting.


John: Would you pass the small potatoes, dear?


Scriber: Certainly,...Sweets.


John: I was at the lawyer's today.


Scriber: Oh, really? Her ears perk at the possibility of...pending litigation.


John: I took the liberty of making a few (ahem)... adjustments to my will.


Scriber: Is there anything I should be privy to, dear? She half-whispers the words, whilst contemplating the obsidian-like blade of her glittering Ginsu dinner knife. 1 comment


John: Nothing to be alarmed about, my sweet, I assure you.


Scriber: Of course, the pre-nup details remain the same...right?...beloved?


John: Of course, as long as we remain together.


Scriber: I have fantastic news! She almost drops...her chop, in feverish excitement. 1 comment


John: Oh, and what would that be? I certainly could use some, what with all the rat-race of keeping a roof over our heads.


Scriber: I'm preggers!


John: (Stupified silence)


Scriber: Well...what?


An evil grin begins to darken John's work-weary visage.


Scriber: Yes..Jon..what is it? Pray tell!


John: Well..well,well...haven't you been a busy girl?


Scriber: Jon...whatever do you mean?


Jon: My dear, you must realize, that I am quite impotent! As sterile as sterile can be. I couldn't  sire, if my millions depended on it. Pass the gravy...train...,I mean, the H-P sauce, won't you, my dear?


Scriber: But, what about all those promises...our children...the dowry..the...millions...???


Jon: Yes, well, my dear your little revelation has just cost you...quite everything!


Scriber: What about my poems, my writings...the best-seller that I wrote for you?


Jon: Oh, well, call it... collateral damage. Ce' la Vie!


Scriber :You swine! You incorrigible schwein-hundt!


With that she pulls out a revolver and ends the multi-millionaire's miserable life with the pull of a trigger. 2 comments


Lights fade to black, as the curtain falls


Finis.


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