Babies and computers. ready set go

Two Babies With  An Old Ass Computer in a Plain White Room

A brief play by Sean Mallary

The scene:

A well lit, plain white room.  Mid Day.  On the floor is a white sheet, or possibly a white plastic drop cloth in the case of accidental urination.  An old Apple 2e desktop computer sits in the middle of the room.  Two babies, dressed only in Huggies brand disposable diapers sit near this machine.

Characters:

Baby #1 (B1):  Male.  Less than 2 years of age.  Pale skin, thick with baby fat around the middle.  Light colored hair with very early signs of male pattern baldness.  The elder of the two, and somewhat of an intellectual with great working knowledge of the world around him.

Baby #2 (B2):  Male.  Also less than 2 years of age. Pale skin, blotches of pink coloration around his face and chest with an athletic build.  Dark hair that is kept cut short for  a just got out of bed look.  The younger of the two-with a curious nature, quite gullible and susceptible to outside influences.

A note from the “playwright”:

The dynamic of the two characters  falls somewhere between Laurel & Hardy and Pinky & the Brain.  The pace should be quick, with few dramatic pauses, unless deemed necessary.  This is a rather serious piece that must not be played for cuteness, slapstick or cheap laughs.  The babies are meant to be played by lifelike, fully animatronic puppets.  Failing that, real babies can be used if made to look like they are speaking, not unlike the old TV show Mr. Ed.  Failing that, two grown actors in diapers is acceptable, as long as they are entirely free of body hair, tattoos other physical blemishes.  This should only be done as a last resort.  Ideally the dialect should be upper class British for baby #1, and poorly performed cockney for baby # 2, but this is not mandatory.

(Lights up)

B1:  Psst.  Hey you.  Kid.

B2:  Huh?

B1:  Hey.  Are you deaf?

B2:  I don’t know.

B1:  I’ll take that as a maybe.

B2: Did you just talk to me?

B1:  Of course not.  We are only toddlers.

B2:  But I heard you.

B1:  No you didn’t.  You just think you heard me.

B2:  No.  I’m pretty sure I heard you.  Then you talked again, then I talked, so that means    we can both talk and hear each other.

B1:  Can’t say I follow your logic.  Anyway, it’s impossible-we haven’t developed those skills yet.

B2:  Then how are we communicating?

B1:  Depends on what you consider communication.

B2:  I believe it’s the imparting or interchange of thoughts, opinions, or information by speech, writing, or signs.

B1:  Never heard of it.  There’s absolutely no speaking involved.

B2:  That’s absurd.

B1:  Not really.

B2: How do you explain the dialogue we’ve been having?

B1:  Nope.  It’s not real.  It’s some kind of internal monologue bs they made up in the 80’s for movies where babies took on the personas of grown adults for comedic effect.

B2:  So basically it’s a story telling mechanism that imposes sophisticated themes and concepts on to characters (ie-babies) whom could not possibly conceive those notions on their own?

B1:  Sure.  That’s the gist.

B2:  So it’s like when they make a lizard talk to sell various goods and services?

B1:  That’s something different, but the idea is the same.

B2:  I see. So in our minds we can speak?

B1:  Sure

B2: The tall fat ones can’t hear us?

B1:  I don’t think so.  It just sounds like Chinese or something to them.

B2:  Interesting.  I’m Blayne, btw.

B1:  BTW? What’s that?

B2:  Sorry. I meant, by the way.

B1:  I’m Mark.  You use the phrase LOL and I swear to god  I’m going to smack you in the face with my pudgy little hand

B2:  Ok ok…Nice to meet you.

B1:  Yeah.  Ditto.  What kind of moniker is Blayne?

B2:  What do you mean?  I think it finds its roots in the Celtic term…

B1:  No, it’s not a proper name.

B2:  It’s not?

B1:  No, it’s one of those new fake names that the tall fat ones make up to feel superior  about their offspring.  I bet it’s spelled strangely  too

B2:  How should I know? It’s not like I can read!

B1:  Probably the name of some Hollywood twink of the week.  I’m so sick of parents today.

B2:  Parent

B1:  How’s that?

B2:  You said parents.  For me it’s just parent. Single.  Only mommy.

B1:  Oh I get it.  A bastard ay?

B2:  If you must be so common.  Yes, father made his, uh, contribution and then left the picture.

B1:  Wow are you in trouble.

B2:  Huh?

B1:  A crappy name.  No dominant male presence in your household.  The numbers are not in your favor my friend.

B2:  Numbers?

B1:  Mathematical objects used in counting and measuring.

B2:  Oh, I see.  And they’re against me?

B1:  I’m afraid so.  Statistics show that young males that grow up without a father figure are ten times more likely to fail out of school, sell drugs and commit hate crimes.

B2:  I had no idea.  How about you, how do you fair?

B1:  Good Christian name.  Two parents-both employed.  I’m set for the white, middle class dream.

B2:   I would say so

B1:  Well maybe there’s hope for you yet.  Are you on the sauce?

B2:  I beg your pardon?

B1:  You know. The sauce? The pale horse?

B2:  Uh, no

B1:  The good stuff? The nectar of the gods?  The white river of life?

B2:  Oh, you mean milk?

B1:  Well yes, if you insist on being crass.

B2:  Of course I drink milk.

B1:  But what’s the source?

B2:  How am I to know?  I take a bottle four times a day, sometimes five depending on the humidity levels…

B1:  Hold on there.  A bottle? You don’t get it from the tap?

B2:  What do you mean the tap?

B1:  The tap!?  The fountains of youth? The, uh, mammary glands of your birth mother? Her breasts man-where milk is made!

B2:  That’s disgusting! I’m a strict vegan.  I don’t eat dairy.  Just soy

B1:  Wow. You really are in trouble buddy.  It looks like you are going to be gay too.

B2:  I find that very offensive!

B1:  Well I’m sorry.  The numbers don’t lie.  Stats show that something like 80% of guys that don’t drink mother’s milk as infants turn out as homosexuals.

B2:  Can we please discuss something else?

B1:  Fine.  Suite yourself, but you are living in a state of denial.

B2:  Change of topic.

B1:  What do you have in mind?

B2:  Well, where are we?

B1: Right here.

B2:  Obviously

B1: Is it-are you sure?

B2:  I think so, yes

B1:  I don’t know if I can believe a kid that’s not on the sauce?

B2:  Please don’t be so crude!

B1:  Ok then

B2:  So we are here?

B1:  If you say so

B2:  But where is that?  There don’t seem to be any visual cues to suggest that we are anywhere at all.

B1:  A valid point.  Now that you mention it.  Just this infinite white background.

B2:  It does seem infinite.  Maybe we are in a cloud

B1:  I don’t think so.  A cloud wouldn’t have the density to support our weight, even though we are quite small for our species.

B2:  Right.  Speaking of species.  I don’t see anyone else around.

B1:  Exactly.

B2:  What is?

B1:  We’ve clearly been left alone.  No sane adult would leave two babies un-attended, trapped in an infinite white abyss.

B2: I hope not.  But at least they left us this thing.

B1: I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.

B2:  Why is there meat in it?

B1:  Don’t be ridiculous!

B2:  Well, what is it then?

B1:  I’ve been working on a theory about that

B2:  I’m listening

B1:  I don’t know.  It might blow your tiny mind.

B2:  I can handle it.  I just turned 14 months

B1:  Alright, but you can’t tell anyone

B2:  How? In my special Chinese sounding baby language?  There’s no one else here

B1:  Well played.  Ok-here goes.  I think it’s an ancient alien technology left here to control human civilizations remotely from a far away galaxy.

B2: And?

B1:  That’s it

B2: Right.  I want to touch it!

B1:  No-don’t!

B2:  Too late.  How can you justify your theory?

B1:  I can’t

B2:  You can’t?

B1:  Nope.  Just what I believe.

B2:  I call bull shit!

B1:  Oh come on! What else could it possibly be?

B2:  Lots of things

B1:  Such as?

B2:  Well let’s see…A time machine, perhaps a masturbatory aid, or some type of crop harvester

B1:  No-I don’t buy any of that!  I’m telling you it’s an extraterrestrial mind control device

B2:  What makes you so sure?

B1:  Have you ever seen adults with these things.  They are everywhere.  All different sizes. But get this-the shape is always the same

B2: The shape?

B1:  Yes-it’s always a light emitting rectangle that produces images for communication and entertainment.  Very complex-no way humans could have created this…

B2:  I’m beginning to see where you are coming from.

B1: Finally.

B2:  So where do the aliens come in?

B1:  They get humans addicted to the glowing rectangles, then make it so we can’t live without them.  Then-they come down and drink our blood when we are asleep.

B2:  Oh, I get it now.

B1:  I thought you might

B2:  My query than is what is this one doing in here with us?  Two babies in an infinite white abyss?

B1:  Ah ha!  Now we are getting somewhere

B2:  We are? But we’re still here then?

B1:  Well it is possible that at least once, we where here but not anymore.

B2:  Explain

B1:  It all fits into another theory I’ve been contemplating lately

B2:  Alright.  Shoot

B1:  Ok…So here we are with a complex device that doesn’t belong here

B2:  It doesn’t?

B1:  No more than the infinite white background.

B2:  Touché

B1:  I mean think about it.  We’re both less than 2 years old.

B2: 14 months

B1:  19 for me.  But what I’m saying is they’re trying to get us hooked early you see

B2:  Who are?

B1: The aliens!

B2: Right

B1:  But the thing is, we’ve not yet developed the brain function, nor the motor skills necessary to the device’s operation!

B2:  Well that is quite ironic!

B1:  My point exactly!  Our mere proximity to this machine is intended to be humorous, a total fallacy. Which, seems to be why we are here!

B2:  But not now?

B1:  Yes.  But perhaps we were at one time

B2:  That’s the part I don’t get.  Everything else makes complete sense.

B1:  Clearly, our likenesses have somehow been captured in still life, here against this infinite white background.

B2: For comedic purposes?

B1:  I believe so yes.   Suppose the humorous juxtaposition of our infantile selves, attempting to make use of this device creates a precious image designed to evoke a certain feeling or response towards the device itself!

B2: But to what avail?

B1: It’s a trick by our alien overlords to force the tall fat ones to purchase more mind control devices-therefore sealing their fate as the aliens’ oblivious but willing food supply

B2: Oh boy.  I can see the full picture now.  Let me recap.

B1: Sure-feel free.

B2:  We are here?

B1:  At some point in time-yes

B2:  Right.  We were here, made to sit against this infinite white background together with this mind control machine, that allows aliens to feast on our blood while we sleep.

B1:  Yep.  And then?

B2:  Alien technology was used to somehow freeze this moment forever, so that the image it produced would encourage others to exchange currency in a free capitalist market for these machines themselves.

B1: Yes-doesn’t it make perfect sense?

B2:  Certainly.  So it is like the talking lizard in the advertisements?

B1:  Well I think you are over simplifying it.  Except, WE are being exploited for sinister intentions on the basis that we are perceived as cute, next to this tool of  our own race’s destruction!  Unbelievable isn’t it?

B2:  Wow, I you really did just blow my mind.  I have a headache and need to take a nap.  Playing Beckett is hard…Let’s do something else.

B1:  Yeah, I’m pretty tired too.  How about we turn this baby on and look for free porn?

B2:  Thought you’d never ask

(Blackout)