The following short play was staged in Barcelona in 2015.

SOUND AND THE FURIES

Props – 1 chair, 1 small purple round bicycle bell, enough rope or cord to tie a man to a chair, 1 paper scroll (possibly with the writing on it that needs to be read from the scroll), 1 large kitchen knife.

Characters:

DELTA     - a woman (the senior rank of the two women)

EPSILON   - a woman (the junior rank of the two women)

TRAVIS    - a man

The lights are off and the curtain is closed. We hear the sound of the bicycle bell being dinged, quickly followed by an agonised scream from TRAVIS. The bell dings once again and, once again, TRAVIS lets out a terrible scream of pain.

The curtain opens but the lights remain off. We hear another ding of the bicycle bell and another scream from TRAVIS.

The lights come up to reveal TRAVIS, shirtless, bound to a chair in the centre of the stage. Behind him stands a severely dressed woman in a black jacket; her hair is slicked back, she has pale skin and is wearing bright red lipstick. This is EPSILON, and she is holding the bicycle bell. EPSILON dings the bell next to TRAVIS’ ear and he screams again, rocking the chair from side to side.

Another woman, dressed in the same manner, with the same slicked-back hair, pale skin and blood red lipstick, enters the stage. This is DELTA.

DELTA:

     Has he spoken yet?

EPSILON dings the bells next to TRAVIS’ ear again. TRAVIS screams.

EPSILON:

No Delta. I mean, he’s made a lot of noise… but nothing intelligible.

DELTA:

Hmm… Impressive. There aren’t many who can last an hour with the bell. Our Travis here is made of sterner stuff.

(DELTA sniffs)

Very well, Epsilon, remove the phonic amplifiers.

EPSILON pockets the bicycle bell before she approaches TRAVIS and removes an apparently tiny, invisible object from each of his ears. She hands them to DELTA, who makes a show of inspecting them, moving them around her palm with the tip of a finger.

DELTA:

An ingenious device, wouldn’t you say, Travis? Such finesse… Program in any frequency - say, the frequency of a small, inoffensive bicycle bell - and it will magnify that sound a hundred-fold, a thousand-fold, whatever, while leaving everything else sounding completely normal.

EPSILON:

(Talking into TRAVIS’ ear) It can be set for everything though, Travis. Would you like to hear what everything sounds like?

TRAVIS whimpers and cries, shaking his head violently in the negative.

DELTA:

Now, now, Epsilon; you know very well that would kill him! We require more from our dear Travis than his demise. Besides, there’s the mess to consider.

(DELTA looks pointedly at TRAVIS)

Your head would explode… Literally… Explode.

EPSILON comes forward to stand opposite DELTA and makes a gesture to indicate her head exploding, providing accompanying ‘splat’ sound effects also. DELTA shakes her head affectionately.

DELTA brings the phonic amplifiers in her palm up to her mouth and whispers something into them before handing them back to EPSILON.

DELTA:

Now, Travis, you’ll find this very interesting. I’ve set it for the sound of bugs moving. How many bugs would you say were around us right now, Epsilon; in the walls; in the floor; on our skin?

EPSILON:

     I don’t know. Millions? Billions?

     (She gasps excitedly…)

A googolplex?

DELTA:

      Why don’t we let Travis guess?

EPSILON approaches TRAVIS.

TRAVIS:

     No! Please!

EPSILON stops, surprised, and looks back at DELTA, unsure as to whether or not to continue.

DELTA:

Well now, he speaks! That is good. Good… but no reason to deny Epsilon a brand new observational experience, hmm?

EPSILON:

(Approaching once more a terrified, desperately struggling TRAVIS) Thank you, Delta.

DELTA:

No, Epsilon, thank you. Your hard work is very much appreciated and should not go unrewarded.

EPSILON grabs TRAVIS’ face and shoves the invisible amplifiers into his ears, TRAVIS’ expression immediately changes as he screams and yells continuously in the most blood-curdling fashion imaginable. After a moment of exchanging glances and bemused looks, DELTA nods to EPSILON, who removes the phonic amplifiers once more from TRAVIS’ ears. TRAVIS sags instantly, his head lolling. EPSILON pockets the amplifiers.

EPSILON:

     (Satisfied) Definitely a googolplex!

DELTA:

     Are you ready to cooperate, Travis?

TRAVIS snuffles and nods vigorously.

DELTA:

     Pardon? I didn’t quite catch that…

TRAVIS:

     (Yelling) YES! FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, YES!

EPSILON:

Alright… there’s no need to shout…

(To DELTA)

I think he thinks we’re deaf!

DELTA:

     The charge sheet, if you will Epsilon.

EPSILON removes a scroll from an inner jacket pocket. She unrolls it theatrically and then holds it in front of TRAVIS.

EPSILON:

     Read it!

TRAVIS lifts his head with difficulty and blearily focuses on the scroll before him.

TRAVIS:

     I… (He shakes his head)

EPSILON:

     (Firmly) Read it!

TRAVIS:

I, Travis T. Overmann, Baptist Senator for the Orthodox Republican Conservative Party in the Protectorate State of Neo-California, son of Arancha Juarez and Felipe Overmann, have, without remorse, manipulated faith, doctrine and dogma to repress, oppress and denigrate the women of my city…

EPSILON:

(Folding her arms – and thereby removing the scroll from TARVIS’ sight – shaking her head and tutting) Oh dear, oh dear…

DELTA:

(To TRAVIS) As you might imagine, neither Epsilon nor I take very kindly to the repression and oppression of women, Travis, let alone their denigration…

EPSILON:

     (Menacing) “Not cool, bro.”

TRAVIS:

     Oh Lord Jesus, help me! Help me Jesus!

DELTA:

(Sighing disgustedly) Ugh… Another death-row conversion…

EPSILON:

Hang on. Are you saying he hasn’t actually believed any of that stuff he’s been spouting until now?

DELTA:

Come on, Epsilon! How many authoritarian preachers have we had in here who really did sincerely swallow their own mystical logorrhoea?

EPSILON:

     One or two…

DELTA:

     Yes, well, Travis here is neither of them.

DELTA gestures with her head at the scroll under EPSILON’S arm)

DELTA:

The scroll…

EPSILON holds the scroll in front of TRAVIS once again.

EPSILON:

     Continue!

TRAVIS:

A pregnant woman who claimed… violation… once asked me why she was refused termination procedures…

TRAVIS stops, looking worriedly between EPSILON and DELTA, clearly not wanting to continue.

DELTA:

Oh now, don’t stop, Travis, this is fascinating. Enlighten us.

TRAVIS:

     Please, I’m sorry. I see it now…

DELTA:

(Through gritted teeth) You always saw it. Now. Do. Go. On!

EPSILON:

     (Roaring) READ!

TRAVIS:

(Trembling) I… I told her… if… if her violation had really been… legitimate… then her… her body… her body would have… have refused the seed… and she… she would not… have become… pregnant.

DELTA:

What a unique perspective on human biology you have, Travis. Do keep going…

EPSILON:

     COME ON!

TRAVIS:

At an all girls’ school, I… I told the assembled young ladies that it… it is in the interests of their own salvation… that… they marry.

EPSILON:

     Oh, this sound promising…

TRAVIS:

If a woman is not… a wife… then she is nothing. It is the function of the woman to serve the husband, to carry his children… to carry out his instructions…

EPSILON:

Oh, so that’s why it’s been difficult getting him to do anything. He’s not used to getting orders from – what do you call us – oh yes, the “fairer” sex…

DELTA:

Okay, Travis, we’re all ears. Why is a woman’s sole function subservience to man?

TRAVIS:

     It…

EPSILON:

     Spit it out…

TRAVIS:

     It…

DELTA:

     (Coldly insistent) Say it.

TRAVIS:

     It is… God’s will.

EPSILON:

     (In utter disbelief) God’s will?

EPSILON looks at TRAVIS accusingly.

EPSILON:

     (Curious) Which God?

TRAVIS looks flabbergasted by that particular question.

DELTA:

     Which God is immaterial, Epsilon.

EPSILON:

(Muttering to herself) God’s will… God-swill is more like it!

DELTA:

Well, I don’t think we need to hear any more. I’d say we all have a pretty clear idea of just what kind of person you are.

(She pauses…)

The real question now, Travis, is what are we to do with you?

EPSILON:

     I have a few ideas!

TRAVIS looks terrified at the kind of ideas EPSILON might have.

TRAVIS:

     Wait, please, I can change!

EPSILON:

     I thought you didn’t believe in evolution!

DELTA:

     (Tapping her teeth) Hmm… change…

(An idea appears to occur to her) Perhaps…

TRAVIS:

     (Desperately hopeful) Yes?

DELTA:

     Perhaps, Travis, if you were… open to the light…

TRAVIS:

(Flooded with relief and begging shamelessly) Oh yes, yes, of course! Let the blinding light of the sweet Lord’s mercy shine upon this unworthy supplicant…

EPSILON:

     What’s he talking about?

DELTA:

     Oh…

DELTA starts laughing heartily. TRAVIS stops his begging to look up at her, puzzled.

TRAVIS:

     What?

DELTA:

     (Still laughing a little) I’m sorry, Travis…

DELTA pulls out a nasty-looking kitchen knife.

DELTA:

     I meant, cut open to the light.

DELTA nods at EPSILON, who moves behind TRAVIS.

TRAVIS:

     (In terror) Oh no! Please! Please, no!

DELTA:

Don’t worry, Travis, we’ll only make small incisions… to start with… well, smallish…

TRAVIS whimpers pathetically. Behind him, EPSILON removes something from her pocket – the phonic amplifiers – and quickly puts them in his ears.

TRAVIS:

     Oh no!

EPSILON whispers something in TRAVIS’ ears. His eyes widen in absolute, abject terror.

TRAVIS:

(Screaming wildly, insanely) NO! NONONONONONO! NO! PLEASE, PLEASE!

DELTA slowly, deliberately moves beside TRAVIS and runs the knife across his chest. TRAVIS, back to whimpering, silent sobs, shakes uncontrollably.

DELTA looks at EPSILON.

DELTA:

     I have to admit, I’m curious…

EPSILON:

     Oh yes?

DELTA:

Yes. Just what sort of sound does a metal blade slicing flesh make?

TRAVIS appears to be suffering terrible spasms in his chair.

EPSILON:

     We can ask Travis afterwards.

DELTA:

     Yes… We’ll ask Travis.

The lights go black and instantly we hear TRAVIS let out one more terrible long drawn out scream of agony.

CURTAIN