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thejoker130 · 09-22-2003, 11:17 AM

Part Three

sorry it took so long I was working as a volunteer at ceder point this past weekend

*******

SARAH: (crying as she collapses to the floor) What did I do to deserve this?

MEPHISTOPHELES: That’s what I want you to remember... remember? And it’s getting late so hurry up.

SARAH: (trying to choke back tears) You can’t do this to me.

MEPHISTOPHELES: (Distractedly) Yes I can, very easily in fact.... where to put this.... ah. (Sets briefcase down beside Sarah's chair)

SARAH: Goddamn you...

MEPHISTOPHELES: (winces) To late, and don’t use that G word.

SARAH: SHUT UP SHUT UP!!...(Pauses crying).... please shut up.... its not fair, its just not fair. How can you do this to me? (Gets angry) Mephitofurries or whatever the hell your name is!

MEPHISTOPHELES: (slowly) Mephistopheles, and who said life (thinks) who said death was fair? (Sighs) Have you even tried thinking back on your life at all? I know you must have been thinking a little you can’t force yourself not to remember something you know. Forget about why little Billy down the street is afraid of girls because of you. Forget that weed you did in college. And forget what your parents thought when you got arrested for streaking through the old folks home on a bet. Think about what I want you to think about and I mean now!

SARAH: (taken aback) NO! And for your information, I never knew my parents.... I’m an orphan thank you very much.

MEPHISTOPHELES: (smiling) Really? Since when?

SARAH: (pausing) Since I was 13...

MEPHISTOPHELES: What about before that?

SARAH: I...I was...I was in the orphanage a year before I could even remember my name....

MEPHISTOPHELES: You don’t remember anything before that do you?

SARAH: I… no.

MEPHISTOPHELES: Then perhaps these...

(Retrieves briefcase, sets it on the table, opens and pulls out a lighter, rag, and bottle of lighter fluid. He sets them before Sarah and pauses while she glances from one item to the other)

MEPHISTOPHELES: …Will jog some of those memory banks a little

SARAH: (in a small voice) I....

(Silence between them)

MEPHISTOPHELES: Remember any of these do you?

SARAH: (Carefully as if avoiding something) No…

MEPHISTOPHELES: (Sighs, frustrated and pulls a book from his suitcase.) I didn’t want to do this I hate taking people by the hand like this but I‘m running out of time. (He reads in a storybook fashion) Once upon a time there was a happy couple and more than anything they wanted a child they could love and raise in the very best way they could.

(Sarah begins to sob quietly Mephistopheles reads on)

MEPHISTOPHELES: But sadly “The Lord” had chosen not to grant then with a bouncing baby of their own. So one day they decided that they would go down to the orphanage and adopt a poor unfortunate child who was all alone in the world. They finally found a baby who seemed to suit them. A quiet little 6-year-old girl with black hair and burn marks on her arms. After the new fathers mother, they named the little girl Sarah

SARAH: no….

MEPHISTOPHELES: The poor dear had no memory of her real father or mother, which was fortunate for two reasons. The happy new parents wanted little Sarah to be a part of THEIR family and a part of their memories. The other reason was the social worker that handled Sarah’s case had a ghastly story to tell. Sarah’s burn scars had been a gift of her father who ironically was a fireman. His name was Vincent Farnsworth.

SARAH: (pleading) stop…stop it now

MEPHISTOPHELES: I’m getting to the good part (continues) Vincent was a good fireman and a good father as well. At least for a while he was anyway. After each fire he put out he came home with a strange smile on his face. You see Vincent love those fires, the smell, the feel, the strange yet erotic way it danced over charred timber. When he came home he would invariably have to change out of a pair of damp underwear. (Mephistopheles watches Sarah carefully) Vincent loved the fire so much so in fact that he began to go out and start his own fires. Just so he would be able to go inside of them and stare at the wonder of the fire. Vincent didn’t care for the dozens of innocents who died to his madness the only thing that mattered to him was the dance of the fire.
(Sarah is silent; she has even stopped crying)

SARAH: (dead monotone) The fire wasn’t the only thing he loved

MEPHISTOPHELES: Really?

SARAH: He loved showing the fire to his wife, and his daughter.

SARAH: (without tears strangely quite) I remember now, I remember everything...damn you, damn you.

(she continues talking as if taking up the place in the story where Mephistopheles stopped reading)

Vincent showed the fire to his wife and daughter many times. Every other day the wife and child wound up in the hospital for burns of one kind or another.

(Pauses)

Finally mom built the nerve to leave dad. We went to my grandma’s house. But dad followed us there. He decided to give us to the damn fire he loved so much. I remember his laughter even after all these years I remember grandma and mommy, they tried to get me out but the roof fell on them, before she died mommy got herself out of the rubble and threw me out the window. She was so hot; I remember how her hands burned me.

(Pauses as she rubs the burn marks on her hands)

I sat on the front lawn watching the fire burn on and on. It was so beautiful, I knew then why daddy loved it so much. I think it was then that I knew I loved daddy, his fires all of it, I wanted to do anything to show him how much I loved him. When my new parent took me home with them they tried so hard to…wipe those memories from my mind. They tried to take my daddy away from me. When I turned 12 I couldn’t take it any more, they needed to understand they needed to see the fire. So I showed it to them…they still didn’t understand…but I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

MEPHISTOPHELES: (with satirical satisfaction) Oh?

SARAH: Yes, it was so bright and hot and…full…

MEPHISTOPHELES: Full? Why would you call it full?

SARAH: There was so much life in it…as…as though the fire is more alive than anything else, it moves, it thinks, breaths…consumes…it takes so much…so much…

MEPHISTOPHELES: Like how?

SARAH: Heh, you sound like my shrink…that was you wasn’t it? On the phone all those years… all this time you were leading me to this weren’t you?

MEPHISTOPHELES: (shakes his finger) Don’t put all this into my lap Sarah I didn’t lead you to this. You led yourself to this and you know it. That brain probing sado-masochistic, pedophile was taking to long, I just gave him…a few suggestions.

SARAH: (silent) all those fires, all those deaths in town…it was me wasn’t it? Those dreams they were memories weren’t they?

MEPHISTOPHELES: Freud always said to listen to your dreams…He says something different now…something along the lines of “GOTT GOTT GOTT!!!! HOT, HOT, HOT!!!!” but I digress. Yes, dreams can be conduits into memories occasionally; sometimes they can even predict the future.

SARAH: (quietly) oh god…

MEPHISTOPHELES: I don’t know what He has to do with it! The way I understand it, dreams are the brains attempted interpretation of random firings of nerve cells in the brain and…and… Well… OK maybe He does have something to do with it. (He addresses the universe in general) But nobody tell him I said so! His head is big enough already!!!

SARAH: (begins to laugh sadly) would it help to say I’m sorry?

MEPHISTOPHELES: (looks at Sarah thoughtfully for a minute) My father said the same thing you know…

SARAH (quiet)

MEPHISTOPHELES: He told me once why he tried to take the thrown…he said “We show love to our fathers by displaying our accomplishments” later when he thought no one was around I hid behind some brimstone I heard him crying and he said “And the greatest joy a father is supposed to feel is seeing their own child surpass them. Why Father? Why?”…

(Both are silent)

MEPHISTOPHELES: But enough of that. It is time little girl. Your father is waiting for you…
Are you ready?

SARAH: Yes…Yes, I’m ready.

(They begin to walk offstage as the lights go out, Sarah leaning into Mephistopheles as he places an arm around her waist and leads her out)

09-22-2003, 11:17 AM	#9 (permalink)
thejoker130 Insane Location: slippery rock university AKA: The left ass cheek of the world	Part Three sorry it took so long I was working as a volunteer at ceder point this past weekend ******* SARAH: (crying as she collapses to the floor) What did I do to deserve this? MEPHISTOPHELES: That’s what I want you to remember... remember? And it’s getting late so hurry up. SARAH: (trying to choke back tears) You can’t do this to me. MEPHISTOPHELES: (Distractedly) Yes I can, very easily in fact.... where to put this.... ah. (Sets briefcase down beside Sarah's chair) SARAH: Goddamn you... MEPHISTOPHELES: (winces) To late, and don’t use that G word. SARAH: SHUT UP SHUT UP!!...(Pauses crying).... please shut up.... its not fair, its just not fair. How can you do this to me? (Gets angry) Mephitofurries or whatever the hell your name is! MEPHISTOPHELES: (slowly) Mephistopheles, and who said life (thinks) who said death was fair? (Sighs) Have you even tried thinking back on your life at all? I know you must have been thinking a little you can’t force yourself not to remember something you know. Forget about why little Billy down the street is afraid of girls because of you. Forget that weed you did in college. And forget what your parents thought when you got arrested for streaking through the old folks home on a bet. Think about what I want you to think about and I mean now! SARAH: (taken aback) NO! And for your information, I never knew my parents.... I’m an orphan thank you very much. MEPHISTOPHELES: (smiling) Really? Since when? SARAH: (pausing) Since I was 13... MEPHISTOPHELES: What about before that? SARAH: I...I was...I was in the orphanage a year before I could even remember my name.... MEPHISTOPHELES: You don’t remember anything before that do you? SARAH: I… no. MEPHISTOPHELES: Then perhaps these... (Retrieves briefcase, sets it on the table, opens and pulls out a lighter, rag, and bottle of lighter fluid. He sets them before Sarah and pauses while she glances from one item to the other) MEPHISTOPHELES: …Will jog some of those memory banks a little SARAH: (in a small voice) I.... (Silence between them) MEPHISTOPHELES: Remember any of these do you? SARAH: (Carefully as if avoiding something) No… MEPHISTOPHELES: (Sighs, frustrated and pulls a book from his suitcase.) I didn’t want to do this I hate taking people by the hand like this but I‘m running out of time. (He reads in a storybook fashion) Once upon a time there was a happy couple and more than anything they wanted a child they could love and raise in the very best way they could. (Sarah begins to sob quietly Mephistopheles reads on) MEPHISTOPHELES: But sadly “The Lord” had chosen not to grant then with a bouncing baby of their own. So one day they decided that they would go down to the orphanage and adopt a poor unfortunate child who was all alone in the world. They finally found a baby who seemed to suit them. A quiet little 6-year-old girl with black hair and burn marks on her arms. After the new fathers mother, they named the little girl Sarah SARAH: no…. MEPHISTOPHELES: The poor dear had no memory of her real father or mother, which was fortunate for two reasons. The happy new parents wanted little Sarah to be a part of THEIR family and a part of their memories. The other reason was the social worker that handled Sarah’s case had a ghastly story to tell. Sarah’s burn scars had been a gift of her father who ironically was a fireman. His name was Vincent Farnsworth. SARAH: (pleading) stop…stop it now MEPHISTOPHELES: I’m getting to the good part (continues) Vincent was a good fireman and a good father as well. At least for a while he was anyway. After each fire he put out he came home with a strange smile on his face. You see Vincent love those fires, the smell, the feel, the strange yet erotic way it danced over charred timber. When he came home he would invariably have to change out of a pair of damp underwear. (Mephistopheles watches Sarah carefully) Vincent loved the fire so much so in fact that he began to go out and start his own fires. Just so he would be able to go inside of them and stare at the wonder of the fire. Vincent didn’t care for the dozens of innocents who died to his madness the only thing that mattered to him was the dance of the fire. (Sarah is silent; she has even stopped crying) SARAH: (dead monotone) The fire wasn’t the only thing he loved MEPHISTOPHELES: Really? SARAH: He loved showing the fire to his wife, and his daughter. SARAH: (without tears strangely quite) I remember now, I remember everything...damn you, damn you. (she continues talking as if taking up the place in the story where Mephistopheles stopped reading) Vincent showed the fire to his wife and daughter many times. Every other day the wife and child wound up in the hospital for burns of one kind or another. (Pauses) Finally mom built the nerve to leave dad. We went to my grandma’s house. But dad followed us there. He decided to give us to the damn fire he loved so much. I remember his laughter even after all these years I remember grandma and mommy, they tried to get me out but the roof fell on them, before she died mommy got herself out of the rubble and threw me out the window. She was so hot; I remember how her hands burned me. (Pauses as she rubs the burn marks on her hands) I sat on the front lawn watching the fire burn on and on. It was so beautiful, I knew then why daddy loved it so much. I think it was then that I knew I loved daddy, his fires all of it, I wanted to do anything to show him how much I loved him. When my new parent took me home with them they tried so hard to…wipe those memories from my mind. They tried to take my daddy away from me. When I turned 12 I couldn’t take it any more, they needed to understand they needed to see the fire. So I showed it to them…they still didn’t understand…but I’d never seen anything so beautiful. MEPHISTOPHELES: (with satirical satisfaction) Oh? SARAH: Yes, it was so bright and hot and…full… MEPHISTOPHELES: Full? Why would you call it full? SARAH: There was so much life in it…as…as though the fire is more alive than anything else, it moves, it thinks, breaths…consumes…it takes so much…so much… MEPHISTOPHELES: Like how? SARAH: Heh, you sound like my shrink…that was you wasn’t it? On the phone all those years… all this time you were leading me to this weren’t you? MEPHISTOPHELES: (shakes his finger) Don’t put all this into my lap Sarah I didn’t lead you to this. You led yourself to this and you know it. That brain probing sado-masochistic, pedophile was taking to long, I just gave him…a few suggestions. SARAH: (silent) all those fires, all those deaths in town…it was me wasn’t it? Those dreams they were memories weren’t they? MEPHISTOPHELES: Freud always said to listen to your dreams…He says something different now…something along the lines of “GOTT GOTT GOTT!!!! HOT, HOT, HOT!!!!” but I digress. Yes, dreams can be conduits into memories occasionally; sometimes they can even predict the future. SARAH: (quietly) oh god… MEPHISTOPHELES: I don’t know what He has to do with it! The way I understand it, dreams are the brains attempted interpretation of random firings of nerve cells in the brain and…and… Well… OK maybe He does have something to do with it. (He addresses the universe in general) But nobody tell him I said so! His head is big enough already!!! SARAH: (begins to laugh sadly) would it help to say I’m sorry? MEPHISTOPHELES: (looks at Sarah thoughtfully for a minute) My father said the same thing you know… SARAH (quiet) MEPHISTOPHELES: He told me once why he tried to take the thrown…he said “We show love to our fathers by displaying our accomplishments” later when he thought no one was around I hid behind some brimstone I heard him crying and he said “And the greatest joy a father is supposed to feel is seeing their own child surpass them. Why Father? Why?”… (Both are silent) MEPHISTOPHELES: But enough of that. It is time little girl. Your father is waiting for you… Are you ready? SARAH: Yes…Yes, I’m ready. (They begin to walk offstage as the lights go out, Sarah leaning into Mephistopheles as he places an arm around her waist and leads her out) __________________ WHAT MORE CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN? ------------------------------------- I like you. When the world is mine your death will be quick and painless.