The Microwave

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					                                          The Microwave

A low monotonous hum is heard in the darkness. After several moments, the humming ends and it
is replaced by a high-pitched beep. A few seconds pass, the beeping stops, and a door opens and
   shuts. Lights up on a dorm setting, stage right. There is a dirty futon, crushed beer cans, an
 ottoman with a laptop on it, and a few books scattered on a corner desk. A man in a microwave
                         costume stands in front of it all. He is very dirty.

   He paces the dorm, muttering to himself. He stops, looks up, and continues to mutter. He is
    holding a piece of paper and a pen. Every now and then he’ll jot something down. After
 scribbling a few more notes, he pauses and faces the audience. He stares, uncomfortably at the
          audience, letting the ridiculousness of his costume settle in. Finally he speaks.

It’s not easy, these suicide notes. I want my message to beep true. But I do not want to blabber on.
I’ve made a career out of being efficient, fast. I’m not about to let my last act as a microwave, this
longwinded, preachy letter, tarnish my reputation. He crumples up his note and tosses it to the
ground.I can be concise and still get my point across. I loved you. You loved me. Someone
showed up that was better. You threw me away. No, I’m sorry. Scratch that. You gave me away.
Worse, you gave me to a college kid. Fuck (in replace of ‘fuck,’ a beep is heard) you, goodbye, I
killed myself. No. Scratch that. You killed me. Beat.

What do you think? Too mean spirited? It is a bit uber-dramatic, yes. To be honest with you, I
don’t even know why I’m leaving a note. I just figured that’s what you do. It’s the polite thing.
Not like they (kicks a pizza box) deserve it. I mean, it didn’t always used to be like this. (He flicks
a crusted pasta stain from his front). I was white. A brilliant, beautiful white. I had stainless steel
paneling. I now spend my days warming up Pop Tarts and Chef Boyardee. I have 15 power
levels. 15. I can cook a baked potato in less than three minutes. I don’t belong here. If I’m not
going to be used correctly, I might as well not be used at all.

                 The microwave begins to walk cross stage and the lighting shifts.
 Lights up on a beautiful, spotless kitchen. There is an expensive-looking refrigerator, an island
         cart, a few polished pots and pans, a sink and a shiny, new built-in microwave.

This is where I used to live. Now do you get why I’m suicidal? I. We had a lot of good memories
here. The day after Thanksgiving. Leftover nights. I warmed up so many slices of cold pizza for
them. For what? (He gestures to the built-in microwave). To be replaced by this slut because she’s
got a touch screen and a shiny exterior. (Turns to it and screams). You’re an overpriced, phony!
You will never be able to give this family what I gave them. (The microwave pauses and collects
himself. He walks over to the fridge; it’s leaking a bit and a line of water is rolling down its front.
The microwave wipes it dry).
Kenmore, I wasn’t yelling at you. I miss you too buddy. But I have to go now. I’m sorry, but beep
this place. I'll save you a seat next to G.E in the afterlife.

                             (The microwave walks back to the dorm).

I know what you’re thinking, ‘he’s taking the easy way out.’ Listen, I’m no snob. I’m not asking
for a daily polish. Just, when something spills, wipe it up. Here, take a look at this. (The
Microwave opens up his front to reveal an orange, dirty t-shirt). Pardon my French, but it’s
beeping ridiculous. No one should live like this. And don’t even say it, don’t you dare say it.
‘That it’s better than being in a basement or a landfill.’ Bull shit. Walk a mile in my filthy shoes
and then tell me that you’d take this over a quiet life next to a box of Christmas decorations.
Listen, when I was packed up to go with Jimmy, I was honored. Their first born, off to college.
It’s a big deal. And I was boxed up with the laptop and the XBox. I was marked an ‘essential.’
I’ve been in this family for over seven years. Sure, I was disappointed. But I was also excited.
And I was with someone I already cared about. But I soon realized that College Jimmy is a lot
different than Home Jimmy. The roommates, especially the slob, didn’t help. Months into my
‘sentence’ and I had yet to be cleaned. I had been kicked, dropped, and abused. I made my
decision. It’s final. They didn’t love me anymore. Screw them. I just have to finish this ‘beeping’

The Microwave starts to pace again with his letter. Something stops him dead in his tracks and he
                                   begins to sniff the air…

Do you smell that? Is something burning? (Sniffs the air a couple more time). Don’t worry
everyone. I’ll just turn the vent on high. (He hits a button on his front and a loud sucking sound
comes up. The microwave addresses the audience but no one can hear anything over the sucking.
After a couple moments, the Microwave turns the vent off).

We’re ok everyone. We’re ok. Can you believe this? It’s repulsive and darn right dangerous. It’s
like there’s something burning every…(he pauses as an idea comes to him. He drops to his knees
and furiously pens a note). I got it. Listen to this. (He clears his throat). Dear Jimmy, fat Ron, and
the other kid I don’t really know very well. It was fun while it lasted. Enjoy the stench. Love, LG.
(He smiles proudly). So what do you think speakers? Not bad, huh. I wish we got to know each
other better, but, frankly, I was always jealous of how well they treated you. So, you won't have
ol' Nukey to kick around anymore. (He salutes the audience).

The microwave goes over to the ottoman, picks up the laptop, opens his door, and places it inside.
  He shuts the door and turns himself on. Within seconds, he begins to smoke. As the smoke gets
   thicker, the Microwave begins to laugh uncontrollably. The lights go down as his laugh gets
louder and louder. As the stage becomes pitch black a loud bang is heard and the laughing stops.

Teacher Comments:

“Every single line seemed utterly relevant, and shed more light on the complexity of this
character. In lesser hands, a scene about a kitchen appliance could've easily become hackneyed
and painfully over the top. But by following your best instincts, you managed to write a scene
that was both hilarious and brimming with character development.” Eric Spitznagel.

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