Twelfth Egg

By Damon, Brian and Danielle (in that order). Special Thanks to: Kevin Shaw, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Apocalypse Now

The Scene: Kevin Shaw’s refrigerator.

Shelley is an egg. Cracklin is an egg. Frankie is an egg. Heidi is an egg. Kevin Shaw is manifested as a giant hand reaching from offstage.

(The refrigerator is opened and Kevin Shaw’s gargantuan hand reaches in.)

Shelley: Aaaaaaaah!

Cracklin: Stay away from me!

(Hand grabs Frankie and pulls him out of the fridge)

Frankie: Ah! We’re being poached!

Shelley: Nooooo! Frankie!

Cracklin: I’ll get you, Kevin! You’ll pay for this!

(Hand reaches in once more)

Shelley: Nooooo! Look out, Heidi!

(Hand grabs Heidi before she can react)

Cracklin: Watch your back, Shaw! I’m coming for you!

(exit Hand)

Shelley: Oh woe is me! Now it is only you and I left in the carton. We are alone!

(A loud crack is heard from offstage. Frankie is a dead egg. Another crack from offstage. Heidi is a dead egg.)

Kevin (from offstage): Mmmmm, eggs!

Shelley (horrified): Now all our brothers have been yolked. And all our sisters too! Frankie, you were such an egg-sellent brother! Oh, Heidi, your sunny side was always up. And now you are no more! This carton is cold and lonely; it feels like death… like a casket.

Cracklin: Quit it, Shelley! Your pining will get us nowhere! We must egg-scape!

Shelley: But how? It is impossible! You remember Humpty? He tried to escape and you know what happened to him. He ended up a yellow smear upon the floor.

Cracklin: I know! I can still hear his scream echoing in my shell. But if we do not egg-scape, his death will have been for nothing. And Frankie and Heidi, too. We owe it to all our siblings to try and egg-scape!

Shelley: No, it’s hopeless!

Cracklin: Come on! I’ve got an idea! We’ll collect the fibres from the egg carton and weave them into a rope, then tie them into a noose. Then, when Kevin comes for us… we strike!

Shelley: Strike?

Cracklin: Strike! We throw the noose around his neck and pull it tight. Then we will be free!

Shelley: But how? We will still be trapped here! If we jump, it will crack us up!

Cracklin: We’ll climb down, using our rope!

Shelley: But, Cracklin, how? The rope will be around Kevin’s neck. And… we don’t even have arms!

Cracklin: You have to spoil everything, don’t you? Humph.

(Cracklin paces, while Shelley gently weeps)

Shelley: You see? This is useless. We are doomed to become egg-stinct!

Cracklin: Quiet, Egghead. I’m trying to think. Your egg-sistentialism is cramping my style!

Shelley: Alright, Eggstein. (sad sigh)

(A long pause, during which Shelley begins singing a depressing, hopeless song)

Cracklin: A hah!

(Shelley stops singing abruptly)

Cracklin: Perhaps subterfuge would be the best approach.

Shelley: What do you mean by subterfuge?

Cracklin: What I mean is, we can sneak out. First we go through the air vents to the butter level. Sneak past the dairy products to the salad dressing, then we swing over to the field of meat. Then we take the elevator and descend into the asparagus swamp. From there we slide down the alfalfa sprouts and we’ll prop open the door with a head of lettuce, and make our egg-sit.

Shelley: Elevators!? Oh, if only there were elevators in fridges! (sad sigh)

Cracklin: Arggh! Your constant pessimism is egg-ravating! You know Kevin’s gonna be back, and when he comes back, he’s gonna crack us! And poach us! And fry us! And even scramble us! Why he may even stoop to making an omelette out of us! Look over there! He’s got spinach and bacon! He might make a quiche! Oh, the horror, the horror (à la Apocalypse Now or good old Joe Conrad’s Heart of Darkness)

Shelley: Egg-sactly! We’re doomed! Every second I live, my death creeps closer and closer, like a mouse. My mind is going, Cracklin. I can feel it. Would you like me to sing you a song? (sings) Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half-crazy all for the love of you…

Cracklin: No, you incontinent goatherd! You’re getting on my nerves!

Shelley (talks faster and faster, finally bursting into tears): Oh you crude egg! Don’t swear at me! I care for us, and I want to live, but it’s just not going to happen. You have to egg-cept it! As you see we’ve been trapped for so long, and it’s so cold. And I’m tired and I want to go home

Cracklin: Would you rather stay here and waste away, or would you rather egg-scape to live another day?

Shelley: You just don’t get it, do you? We’re doomed. This waiting for death is egg-scrutiating!

Cracklin: Oh shut up and be a man about it!

Shelley: But I’m not a man, I’m an egg! And so are you! You say we could escape, but we don’t even have legs! You think of all these plans, but they all involve arms and legs! We don’t have arms and legs! We don’t even have brains! You’re overegg-stending yourself! You must accept your egg-ness, and the fact that nothing can be done! You aren’t human! You’re just a shell, a yolk, and a white!

(Cracklin jumps at Shelley, and begins to kick him)

Cracklin: No legs, eh? Then how am I kicking your ass, huh?

(A large scuffle ensues, in which both eggs are cracked)
Shelley: Oeuf! My… shell. My yolk trembles with pain! (Egg-spires)

Cracklin: Oh no! What have I done? (Egg-spires)

Kevin Shaw (offstage): I’m still hungry. Good thing there’s some eggs left.

Blackout