IíM NOT YOUR REMOTE CONTROL
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Tim: A young adolescent boy, dressed in pyjamas with bed-hair
Robin: Tim's best friend, also in Pyjamas.
Mom: Timís mother, a harsh shrill voice.
A 12-year-old boy's bedroom. Posters of superheroes adorn the walls, the floor is a layer of laundry and debris, and the bed has a baseball theme. A lamp sits beside the bed and the bedroom door is in sight which leading offstage. Speakers will be positioned so sounds will come from the door opening when opened. Two sleeping bags are set up on the bed, each containing one of the boys.
The set is dark.
MOM: TIM! ROBIN! GO TO SLEEP! IF I HAVE TO WARN YOU AGAIN YOUíLL HAVE THE HOTTEST LITTLE BUMS IN BRANDON!
(The Lights Flip on. Tim and Robin are sitting awake in bed, having obviously just been awakened.)
ROBIN: What.. Whatís the matter?
TIM: She thinks we were talking. She must be hearing voices again. (Yelling) I WAS ASLEEP. Geez. I hate my mom.
ROBIN: Sheís insane! How can we talk when weíre asleep? Would she really spank you for being awake?
TIM: I donít know. Probably. Sheís nuts. (Sighs) I canít wait till Iím old enough to move out. I hate living with her.
MOM: TIM! TIM! COME HERE! HURRY! IF YOU ARE GOING TO BE AWAKE TALKING YOU CAN HELP ME OUT.
(Robin stares at the door, then glances at Tim. Robin begins giggling, burying his face in a pillow to hide the noise.)
ROBIN: Oh my god! She is insane!
TIM: Damn. What does she want now? Shut up, stop laughing. (Punches Robin) You donít know what its like.
(Robin continues to laugh, Tim gets out of bed and walks off stage through the door, leaving it open. Robin sits up, listening. Mumbling is heard off stage, then the tinny clatter of the television, complete with the laugh track is heard. Tim walks into the room, shuts the door, ending the noise. Tim sits on the side of the bed.)
ROBIN: What did she want?
TIM: The TV was too quiet. She wanted me to turn it up.
ROBIN: Youíre kidding, right. Whereís her remote?
TIM: Iím her remote I suppose. I canít run out of batteries. I told her I was sleeping; she said, ďYouíre up now, so you might as well change the channelĒ.
Christ I hate my mom.
ROBIN: Sheís not that bad, she bought us Pizza.
TIM: Yeah, thatís just cause sheís too lazy to cook. Iím like her slave; I do the dishes, I clean the apartment, I even make my own lunches and run errands for her. Christ, when Iím sixteen she'll make me her chauffeur.
ROBIN: It was good pizza.
TIM: I suppose.
(A long silence)
TIM: Youíre so lucky, your momís normal.
ROBIN: Sheís weird too, just in a different ways than your mom.
TIM: Like how?
MOM: TIM! TIM! GET OUT HERE! NOW!
(Tim gets up and walks out the door, leaving it open. Television sitcom chatter blares through the door, interrupted by static. Screams and moans that of a horror movie are heard. Tim enters the room, shutting the door, blocking the noise.)
ROBIN: What did she want?
TIM: For me to change the channel. I told her ĎIím not your remote control, get up and change the channel yourself. Iím trying to sleep.Ē
ROBIN: Really? What did she say?
TIM: She got mad at me. She started crying about how much she does for me and how hard she works, and then she called me a liar. She said I was lying. She said that if I could be awake chatting I could help her out.
ROBIN: She woke you up!
TIM: I know, but.. Oh well, at least I fought back. Hopefully sheíll leave us alone now. I think itís going to be weird, us going to be in different schools next year.
ROBIN: Yeah, but weíll still be friends. Weíre like brothers. And in your new school you wonít have Larry and all his dumb friends trying to beat you up.
TIM: Yeah, that'll be good. I'll donít know what Iíll do without you though.
ROBIN: Weíll still see each other.
MOM: TIM! TIM! COME QUICK! HURRY!
TIM: I hate her.
(Tim opens the door and walks out, letting the television horrors in. Clinking and shuffling is heard, and Tim renters, shutting the door, shutting out the noise.)
ROBIN: What did she want?
TIM: Ice. She wanted more ice in her drink. FUCK! Why wonít she leave me alone? She has legs, why canít she use them. She doesnít let me do anything, wear normal clothes, watch regular TV or see movies. I hate her; sheís wrecking my life.
TIM: Iím going to run away, I can live at a shelter.
ROBIN: They wont give you allowance at a shelter, you canít have comics at a shelter.
TIM: Fine, Iíll call the Humane Society. Theyíll help me, and give me an allowance.
ROBIN: The humane society is only for animals. I donít think they help people.
MOM: TIM! ROBIN! STOP TALKING! GO TO SLEEP! TIM! COME HERE! NOW!
(Tim storms out the door, letting the Television noise in. The screams are growing in intensity. Tim renters the room, shutting the door, ending the noise.)
TIM: She said she is going to spank me if she hears us talking again, then she got me to microwave her some of the pizza. She is such a bitch, all she does is sit in her chair and watch TV.
(Tim starts to cry.)
ROBIN: UmmÖ Do you wanna stay over at my house tomorrow?
TIM: She WONíT let me. Sheíll say I can, then she'll find some little thing Iíve done and punish me for it. Last time I left a speck of food on a dish, or misplaced her slippers. THEY WERE IN HER FUCKING CLOSET! I hate her.
(The room is silent except for Timís sobs. Robin is at the opposite end of the bed staring at Tim nervously.)
MOM: TIM! ARE YOU CRYING? KEEP THAT UP AND IíLL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT! WHY ARENT YOU ASLEEP!
TIM: IíM TRYING! YOU KEEP WAKING ME UP!
MOM: IíVE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF THAT ATTITUDE! GET OUT HERE!
TIM: I am going to kill her some day.
(Storms out of the room. The television noise is louder, and now the screams are mingled with laughter. Tim renters the room, shutting the door, ending the noise.)
TIM: We canít talk anymore. We have to at least pretend to sleep. Lie down.
(Tim shoves Robin into a lying position, and then lies down himself.)
MOM: TIM! I TOLD YOU TO GO TO SLEEP! GET OUT HERE NOW!
TIM: Iím not going to answer her. She do her own things.
ROBIN: What if she spanks you?
TIM: Iíll spank her back.
MOM: I CAN HEAR YOU TALKING! COME HERE NOW! DONĒT MAKE ME COME AND GET YOU!
ROBIN: Ohmygod! Will she come in here, what will she do to us?
TIM: I donít know. Probably nothing. But Iím sick of doing what she says. I canít anymore, I wonít anymore.
MOM: TIM! COME HERE OR GET A SPANKING!!
TIM: NO! YOU CAN DO YOUR OWN CHORES. YOUíRE THE ADULT. IíM TRYING TO SLEEP.
MOM: THATíS IT THEN, NO MORE ALLOWANCE AND NO MORE T.V.
TIM: FINE, AT LEAST I WONíT BE YOUR SERVANT!
MOM: NO MORE FRIENDS SLEEPING OVER
(Tim pauses, looks at Robin)
TIM: I canít let her do this. Iím sick of being beaten down. (Long pause.) FINE. I DONíT CARE. IíM NOT YOUR SLAVE.
ROBIN: Wow! Youíre in such trouble.
TIM: Sheíll get over it. She always forgets her punishments. Itís easier for her that way.
ROBIN: I donít know, she sounded mad.
MOM: I TOLD YOU GUYS TO GO TO BED! ROBIN! GET OUT HERE NOW!
ROBIN: Did she just call me? (Pause) Should I go?
TIM: Just ignore her.
ROBIN: What if she spanks me?
TIM: Youíre not her kid, she canít.
MOM: ROBIN! GET OUT HERE NOW BEFORE I COME IN THERE AND TAN YOUR HIDE!
ROBIN: Oh my God!
(Robin gets out of his sleeping bag)
TIM: Ignore her.
(Robin rushes to the door)
ROBIN: IíM COMING!
(Robin opens the door, letting the nightmarish laughter in. Robin leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.)
TIM: I hate my mom.