The Insignificant Life of Horace Wimp

By Dave Marsh
November 03, 2011

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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...

Horace: Quite the fatalistic fellow
Wendy: A woman Horace met on the internet

A bench (or chairs put together)
A cassette tape of park noises (birds, kids, etc) - if available

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 upÖ)

Horace: Wendy? Wendy! Over here.

Wendy: Hi Horace.

Horace: Wendy. Hi. Um, please sit down.

Wendy: Oh, I donít know what Iím doing here. I must be nuts. (turns to walk away).

Horace: Hey, címon Wendy, just stay would you?

Wendy: Horace Wimp, do you remember what happened last time we went on "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 Iím not mistaken, posted on your web page and every newsgroup on the Internet.

Horace: That was before! Iíve changed Wendy. See? No book. Now, címon, give me another chance ok?

Wendy: (long pause) Ok Horace. Everyone deserves a second chance.

Horace: Great! Thatís the spirit! Okay, letís start over. Hi, Iím Horace Wimp. Iím a computer programmer.

Wendy: Okay. Okay. Hi, Iím Wendy Jones. Iím a 3rd grade teacher.

Horace: Oh. Wow. Iím sorry.

Wendy: What do you mean?

Horace: Well, you know? Iím 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, theyíll 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. Iím not sure what youíre talking about so letís just call that Ďstrike oneí 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. Thatís a lot of fun.

Horace: A bike ride? Why bother?

Wendy: What do you mean?

Horace: I mean, why bother? Okay, weíre going to go on a bike ride and weíll 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 Iím 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, whatís the point?

Wendy: A simple Ďno thanksí would have been sufficient Horace. Iíd say thatís ĎStrike 2.í

Horace: Hey, Iím sorry Wendy. Okay, címon what do you REALLY want to do? Anything!

Wendy: All right Horace. Something simple. Letís play fetch with my dog.

Horace: Why?

Wendy: Because itís fun.

Horace: Yeah, fun, but for how long. I mean, you buy this cute little puppy and everythingís 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 youíre lucky or if he doesnít get hit by a passing ice cream truck. I mean, life seems so insignificant then. Why donít you just ship him off to China where they have dogs for dinner? Literally? And thenÖ

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, whatís the point? Old men hitting a little ball with a stick. Whatís that all about. You run around bases over and over and people cheer for you for what? Blah blah blahÖ.(fades out while Horace chases herÖ)



c) 1998 Dave Marsh

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