The Collector
Fade in lights
Paul sits in a chair ad places pencils in Ziploc Baggies.
Rob enters
Rob: Let’s go! The movie starts in ten minutes!
Paul: Just one second. I need to preserve these pencils
Rob: Ok, but jus…what? What are you doing?
Paul: Preparing my nest egg.
Rob: Saving pencils?
Paul: Rob, I’m a writer. One day I’ll be famous and these pencils, with which I used to write my stories, will be worth lots of money.
Rob: That’s just stupid. Now let’s go!
Paul: I’m just thinking of my future. Hand me that hefty bag will you.
Rob impatiently hands Paul a hefty bag lying on the ground
Paul covers the chair.
Rob gives a what-the-hell-are-you-doing gesture.
Paul: Oh, well, you see…. I sat in the chair while I wrote my novels. This is now a prized collectible.
Paul ties off the end of the hefty bag as Rob picks up a bucket.
Rob: Why do you have a bucket of mud in the house?
Paul: Yesterday I walked in the woods and thought about my next novel. I stepped in some mud. I estimate it’ll sell for 2,000 dollars.
Rob: Paul?
Paul approaches Rob and places a hand on his shoulder.
Paul: Rob? Trust me, ok. I know what the people want.
Paul backs up, giving a puzzled look.
Rob: What’s the matter?
Paul: Give me your shirt. I just touched it
Rob: No, I just paid $30 for this at Nordstrom.
Paul: Rob, I just touched your shirt, it’s now valuable.
Rob reluctantly removes the shirt.
Paul: When it sells for 10 grand I’ll be sure to reimburse you. You can be so selfish.
Rob: Can we please just go now?
Paul: I feel like I’m missing something. The pencil, the chair, the mud, the shirt…. they’re all great, but I need to offer those salivating fans something intimate from my life.
Rob turns his back to Paul.
Rob: Well, what do you feel closest to? What have you gone without for years? What do you cherish?
Paul: You’re right!!
Paul chokes Rob to death
Quietly, and professionally, Paul gets another hefty bag from the ground, and slides it over Rob’s body.
Paul: An author’s best friend. You sir, will be worth some money!
Fade out lights.
