Lupus and the Greedy Jesus
(A One-Act Tragedy Play for a Modern Recession and a Poor Faith Economy)
It was the opposite of a dark and stormy night. The Wells Fargo branch was quietly going about its businessâ€¦ Marshall the bank teller was standing at his post with hopeless ennuiâ€¦ Matt was on the far end of the bank, an air conditioning vent running softly through his gorgeous hairâ€¦
ENTER ANNE, a gigantic potato sack of an old lady… she speaks with the loud authority of a Martin Luther King, Jr., and with the righteous indignation of a fox news lunatic…
Anne: YALL NEVER GONNA BELIEVE
WHAT HAPPENED TO ME
Anne stumbles towards Marshallâ€¦ her walk looks like a water balloon tumbling lazily across smooth tileâ€¦ She has a smile on her face as wide as a watermelon sliceâ€¦ And she launches into her Shakespearean sonnet where syllables and pace are missing but only because she is eloquent enough not to need themâ€¦
Anne: I GOT THE LUPUS
GOT MY OLD CROCK-ED HIP
EVERY STEP FEELS LIKE I’M FALLIN
BUT YALL KNOW ME
THAT AIN’T THE WORST OF IT
Her fat melting tootsie roll fingers slap the papers on Marshall’s deskâ€¦
Anne: I’M HERE TO DISPUTE THESE CHARGES!
Marshall studies the pages with absolute blasÃ©. He confronts the reality of his day to day job in terms of the big picture and blah blah blah blah bank stuff blah blahâ€¦ back to Anneâ€¦
Anne: I WROTE A 20 DOLLAR CHECK
AND YALL BOUNCED IT
Anne waves a twenty dollar bill in the air like a white flag from a foxholeâ€¦
Anne: BUT I GOT THE MONEY
Marshall shrugs his shoulders and says something stupid about that not mattering and he feels like blah blah blah dude you work in a bank no one cares blah blah blah. Anne continuesâ€¦
Anne: I WROTE THAT CHECK
FOR TURTLE ROCK BAPTIST CHURCH
THAT’S RIGHT YOU SON OF A BITCH
I WROTE THAT CHECK TO JESUS.
Silence. Then, on cue, from far away, Matt speaks upâ€¦
Matt (softly): Woah!
Anne does not hear this. She continuesâ€¦
Anne: YOU SEE NOW?
JESUS WANTS HIS CUT
ALL PIMPS GET ‘THEY’ SLICE
NOW JESUS WANTS TO CHARGE ME FEES?
NOW JESUS WANTS PROOF I GOT HIS CASH?
SOMEONE BETTER TELL JESUS
TO GIVE THAT SHIT A REST
In the distance, Matt hangs on every word, hands clasped as in prayerâ€¦ Marshall’s reaction is worthless and disrespectful… Anne has exhausted her obese body with all this emotional rageâ€¦ She fans her moist, gelatinous skin with her clammy handâ€¦
Anne : I MEAN
LOOK AT ALL WELLS FARGO GOT!
LOOK AT ALL THAT CRACKER MESSIAH GOT!
WHAT DO I GOT?
I GOT A BOUNCED CHECK
AND THE GOD-DAMN LUPUS.
â€¦ Anne pauses for a breath into her fat, fat, grocery bag lungs… musters every joule of energy… And then yells out her Faith Eulogy, confronting her upbringing, her creator, her destiny, her reality (!!!) …
Anne: THIRTY DOLLAR FEE ON A TWENTY DOLLAR CHECK?
WELLS FARGO AND THAT GREEDY JESUS
CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL.
Silence, it has a sound.
The bank-turned-congregation tries to process the miracle just performed, but their tiny bank-minds are grappling with implications far beyond their bank-depth. Marshall begins to sob… few are concerned…