The Play’s The Thing


A small, harshly lit office space. Four computers sit crammed together, two and two, facing opposite walls. An enormous copier looms in the foreground. A young man sits alone, engaged in chatter through an IRC client.

A young woman enters stage left.

GIRL: (Pauses and gestures to an empty seat at the nearest terminal)  This seat okay?


She sits down and powers on the computer in front of her. Bored silence creeps in as employees from nearby offices leave the building for the night.

YOUNG MAN: (extends his hand) Hi.  I’m The Internet.

GIRL: Hello.

They shake hands.

INTERNET: So. (He fidgets.)  What should I call you?

GIRL: (smiles) You can call me Scubadivider.


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