On Yet Another Otherwise Unused Blog, Among Millions Like It, A Relevant Post.

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Scene 3
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Mary: Are you at least going to be civil?

Peter: What are you implying, sister dearest? Am I ever anything but a model of moral behaviour?

Mary: Peter... Peter: In fact, being from the good Christian stock that I am, I believe that it is time for me to be a shining example for our dear relatives. What was that commandment? The one sandwiched between coveting and stealing? Ah yes, thou shallest nottest beareth thinest falest witnesseth. I wonder why nobody told God that a double negative was a grammatical no-no? It was probably just a bad translation of the Hebrews to their language from the original King James.

Mary: Peter, if you're going to be sarcastic, it's going to be a pain. Are you at least going to be civil?

Peter: Sarcastic? I am merely bequeathing the world with the moral virtues of my good breeding.

Mary: Your... good breeding.

Peter: Of course. I can tell dearest Aunt Gladys, for instance (he takes Mary's hand, and addresses her)... Dearest Gladys, I find it to be my joyous duty, as a paragon of godly truth and forthrightness, to inform you that you are a hypocritical, posturing, judgmental old bat. And your husband, is a materialistic, self-indulgent, small-minded pigmy. How gracious our God to bring two so perfectly matched such as you together!

Mary (irritated): Peter... Peter: And dearest Michael! How like a hero, like a greek god you are in your life! Ah, but perhaps that is too pagan a comparison for a man of the faith such as yourself. How like the Pied Piper you are, leading your flock of rats off the cliff. Too bad your pack of rats has dwindled. Their cascade of carcasses tumbling into the sea is far less impressive a sight than it used to be.

Mary (growing angrier): Peter! Peter: Ah, minister! I suppose you're here to tell us about what a loss we've suffered, but how it's a gain for him, and for heaven! Close, but got it backwards. Heaven receiving him is their loss, and our gain! Isn't our world so much more peaceful now that said self-righteous--

Mary (starting to lose it): Peter, if you say anything of the sort, then we're going to be celebrating your funeral next! For God's sake, I'm not asking much! Just be polite to these people.

Peter: Polite. (Peter pauses.) Hmm, polite. All right, Mary. I'll be polite. But shall I finish what I began? Shall we examine your sins?

Mary: Cut it out.

Peter: No, no, I don't think it's fair to let you off the hook. Your great sin, sister, is... (he pauses, looks at her a long time) is that you're boring.

Mary (confused): Boring?

Peter: Boring. Your one grand sin... is that you are boring.

Mary: Peter, that's not a sin.

Peter: Oh, yes it is. It's the sin of failing to make life interesting. That's very grave.

Mary: Look, just promise me--

Gladys and Chuck burst in. They spot Peter, and Gladys surges towards him, giving him a hug. Chuck shakes his hand.

Gladys: Oh, Peter! We haven't seen you since we got here! Have you been avoiding us?

Peter (smiling): Yes.

Gladys swats him on the back of his head.

Gladys: You haven't changed a bit, have you? I remember when we were visiting you back when you were just a child. You must have been...

Peter (rolling his eyes, simultaneous with Gladys): ...nine years old.

Gladys: ...nine years old. And you put a spider right on my pillow, just before my alarm was set to go off, and I was screaming so loud, I woke up the whole place. I still remember the shade of purple your father's face turned.

Peter (flatly): I remember that too.

Gladys: Ah, you haven't changed a bit.

Chuck: So how's tricks, Pete? You still working at that, uh...

Peter: Strip joint? Yeah. I continue to sell my body for drunken, voyeuristic, middle-aged men.

Gladys clucks disapprovingly. Chuck laughs hard, is cut short by Gladys, who gives Chuck a 'don't encourage the boy' look, and swats him. Chuck winces.

Gladys: Peter, be serious.

Peter (sighing): If I must.

Chuck: Yeah it was an, uh, trucking company, or something?

Peter: Yeah, just working in their office. Doesn't pay much. Stripping probably would be more lucrative. But it does fine.

Chuck: How do you like it? Peter: I don't.

Gladys: Well, why don't you go back to school? You still have your credits from that one year you took, right?

Peter: I've thought about it. Maybe next September. I don't know. I don't like it, but I can tolerate it. That's enough for now.

Gladys: And that girl? How's that going?

Peter (pausing for a moment): Crystal is fine. We're finding fornicating to be quite rewarding.

Chuck laughs again, but this time Mary snorts too, and Gladys gives them both a dirty look.

Gladys: Peter! This is hardly the appropriate time for bawdy humour!

Peter: Ah, you're right, dear, sweet aunt Gladys. You must forgive me. I have only recently returned to civilization from my dwelling amongst the heathens and the pagans. Their bad company has surely been corrupting my good character.

Chuck: What good character?

All three look at him for a second, a little surprised, but Peter, after recovering from his surprise, laughs genuinely, without any actual sarcasm, and offers Chuck a high five, which Peter takes. Gladys offers him the dirtiest look yet, and Chuck does his best to look sheepish.

Gladys: Anyways, I'm glad you two are having fun. But we really have to get going. We are going to see Mike and Vicky this afternoon.

Mary: Oh, I haven't heard from them in a while! How are they doing? Did you hear anything about their son?

Gladys: We haven't had a chance to really talk to them in a while. Haven't had a chance to ask them about Jason yet. She sounded fine from the phone. Not that it means much.

Peter: Well, you two better get going! You need to talk about someone behind their backs, and it's awfully difficult to do to me with me here! Go! That gossip isn't going to generate itself!

Mary shoots Peter a I will kill you and cut you into pieces look. Chuck cracks a big smile, but then steels his features, looking obviously at his wife.

Gladys (clearly trying to ignore the last comment, huffily): I think we will leave. We don't want to be late. Goodbye dear... She gives Mary a kiss on the cheek. We'll talk more later. (more flatly) Goodbye Peter. It's good to see you again.

Chuck: See ya, kids.

They leave out the door. Mary is staring daggers at Peter, who turns to Mary, clearly smiling to annoy her.

Peter: I like Chuck. He's a hypocrite, but he's a fun one. Unlike that hot-air balloon who hauls him around.

Mary screams in frustration, yelling threats (this can be scripted if need be, but I would prefer to let it be improvised, as long as the actor is comfortable) and starts chasing Peter around the house, who starts laughing. Peter climbs over the couch, uses a lamp as cover, they generally make a mess of the stage. Halfway through, Mary seems to lose her frustration, and the chase becomes more playful than genuinely angry. Eventually Peter slips, and Mary trips over him, before they end up laughing on the floor.

Poem: Christmas Eve, 2008. Title: For Water.

I can hear those sounds
They're crashing through the windows
They're hissing through the doors
And in house of card empires
They feel all the more profound
Aw, to feel all the more profound

I can see the colors
They are taken in the sunlight
They are shaken 'neath the moon

The blues and purples cut us bright
For pain so sweet we'll gladly bleed,
This pain we say 'let us gladly bleed.'

Oh, for peace and shelter, such cries
But meaning for meaning is losing
To the vengeance, of the child who's innocence
We once so boldly proclaimed

You heard those words, you said those words
But what comes of them now?
You heard those words, you said them close
Ah, but who believes it now?

Like children we follow,
It is a brand new day,
But when we reach for water,

They push our hands away.

I though I felt a touch

Of everything believed anew
But the world that was painted
Is gone like morning dew

Oh, but they once felt so real

Oh, the chasm swallows whole.

I have not felt a touch
Since cursed and twisted new
A wide-eyed infant born
Into this world it drew.
And love to it is not what it dreamed,
Oh, it aches to love like it had once dreamed.

Oh for love and comfort, such cries

But meaning for meaning is losing

To the vengeance, of the child who's innocence

We once so boldly proclaimed.

You heard those words, you sung those words.

Where now is your conviction?

You heard those words, you breathed them so.
Where now is your faith?

Like children we follow,
It is a brand new day,
But when we reach for water,

They push our hands away.

Oh, they push our hands away...