The Insignificant Life of Horace Wimp
 | Drama
by Dave Marsh
May 26, 2006
|
A drama about building a life of purpose
Director's Notes:
I decided to bring Horace and Wendy back since Horace has always been a perfect
example of someone who takes things to the extreme. Life can sometimes seem so
useless or we can get fatalistic when we look at the world around us. We can get into a
rut where we feel like we're just on a big, blue treadmill. True joy and meaning come from
knowing and walking with Christ daily. Unfortunately, Horace has no clue...
Cast:
Horace: Quite the fatalistic fellow
Wendy: A woman Horace met on the internet
Props:
A bench (or chairs put together)
A cassette tape of park noises (birds, kids, etc) - if available
Setting:
A park bench
(LIGHTS UP CENTER STAGE on Horace. He is sitting on a park bench anxiously
awaiting the arrival of Wendy, once again. Wendy comes walking up…)
Horace: Wendy? Wendy! Over here.
Wendy: Hi Horace.
Horace: Wendy. Hi. Um, please sit down.
Wendy: Oh, I don’t know what I’m doing here. I must be nuts. (turns to walk away).
Horace: Hey, c’mon Wendy, just stay would you?
Wendy: Horace Wimp, do you remember what happened last time we went on a "date?"
Horace: Yeah, you ran away screaming.
Wendy: And do you remember why?
Horace: Well, I kinda had a little problem.
Wendy: Little? Horace, you carried a book the size of a small country around with every
failure you ever had in there. In fact, they were indexed, cross-referenced and, if I’m not
mistaken, posted on your web page and every newsgroup on the Internet.
Horace: That was before! I’ve changed Wendy. See? No book. Now, c’mon, give me
another chance ok?
Wendy: (long pause) Ok Horace. Everyone deserves a second chance.
Horace: Great! That’s the spirit! Okay, let’s start over. Hi, I’m Horace Wimp. I’m a
computer programmer.
Wendy: Okay. Okay. Hi, I’m Wendy Jones. I’m a 3rd grade teacher.
Horace: Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.
Wendy: What do you mean?
Horace: Well, you know? I’m sorry about the kids.
Wendy: What kids?
Horace: The kids that you have in your class. I mean, nothing personal, but do you
realize that you are spending all this time trying to teach them important values when in
no time, they’ll be teenagers, getting into all sorts of problems, smashing their parents
car, robbing convenience stores, and ending up in the big house! I mean, it all seems so
useless. Why bother?
Wendy: Uh. Horace. I’m not sure what you’re talking about so let’s just call that ‘strike
one’ and forget it. Now, what do you want to do today?
Horace: Anything you want, Wendy.
Wendy: Well, how about we go for a bike ride. That’s a lot of fun.
Horace: A bike ride? Why bother?
Wendy: What do you mean?
Horace: I mean, why bother? Okay, we’re going to go on a bike ride and we’ll go round
and round some bike path in circles and lose some weight and feel better about
ourselves for, what, like 60 minutes and then you eat lunch and you eat too much and
you gain that weight back and more and then you ask yourself "Why did I go on that
bike ride if I’m going to get fat?" and then you end up on the couch eating bon-bons to
3am watching old reruns of Starsky and Hutch. I mean, what’s the point?
Wendy: A simple ‘no thanks’ would have been sufficient Horace. I’d say that’s ‘Strike
2.’
Horace: Hey, I’m sorry Wendy. Okay, c’mon what do you REALLY want to do?
Anything!
Wendy: All right Horace. Something simple. Let’s play fetch with my dog.
Horace: Why?
Wendy: Because it’s fun.
Horace: Yeah, fun, but for how long. I mean, you buy this cute little puppy and
everything’s wonderful and you come home from work every day and he waits for you
and boy are you happy and you count on this dog to make you feel important and needed.
But then what happens? He lives, what, maybe 13 or 14 years if you’re lucky or if he
doesn’t get hit by a passing ice cream truck. I mean, life seems so insignificant then.
Why don’t you just ship him off to China where they have dogs for dinner? Literally?
And then…
Wendy: (stands up) Enough! Okay, Horace I gave you a second chance. You may view
life that way but not me. Goodbye Horace! (storms off and then comes back) By the way,
STRIKE 3!!!
Horace: Strike 3? Oh, I get it? As in baseball? Baseball, I mean, what’s the point? Old
men hitting a little ball with a stick. What’s that all about. You run around bases over
and over and people cheer for you for what? Blah blah blah….(fades out while Horace
chases her…)
(LIGHTS FADE SLOWLY)
END
c) 1998 Dave Marsh
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