The God Shop
I’ve had a bit of a mental paper jam, in that it appears I’m not to write anything of particular substance without first I should relieve myself of a play that’s been taking space in my head for the better part of two years, now. And so — tadaa! — I’m writing a play.
The following is *not* that play, but instead is a sketch that I tapped out in the course of testing the scriptwriting mode of the writing app I’ve taken to. It’s more than fair to say this piece has got a bit of Monty Python’s Dead Parrot Sketch in its DNA, and a certain gleeful irreverence for the Sunday morning after the night before.
Enjoy.
CHARACTERS:
SHOPKEEPER, the proprietor of a typical storefront.
MARTY, a patron.
SETTING:
A typical, traditional English (or merry old New England) storefront. Prominent among its features is a wooden counter, behind which is found the SHOPKEEPER. It is mid-morning, on the Sabbath Day.
ACT I
The SHOPKEEPER is cheerfully doing vaguely work-like actions behind the counter of The God Shop.
Enter MARTY. He is well-dressed, but nonetheless a dull-eyed, round-looking man.
MARTY.
Greetings. I’m shopping for a new god.
SHOPKEEPER
(Narrows his eyes.)
Say, you’re not dyslexic are ya?
MARTY
I beg your pardon?
SHOPKEEPER
Sorry. You wouldn’t believe. So, what sort of god might you be looking for?
MARTY
I’m not sure, really. I haven’t given it a tremendous lot of thought. Something sort of… traditional.
SHOPKEEPER
Traditional? There’s lots of traditions, mate. There’s the tradition of having a beer and a walk in the woods, trippin’ over a tree root and sayin’ “O me. I musta pissed off the tree god when I wee’ed over yonder.”
MARTY
(Pauses.)
I might have done…
SHOPKEEPER
And there’s the tradition of having too much beer and not enough tree roots and then it’s all “O god, o god, lemme get through this and I’ll ne’er drink so much again!”
MARTY
(Pales, visibly.)
Er. I was thinking something sort of Father Christmas like?
SHOPKEEPER
Rolly polly, big beard, lots of gifts sort of thing?
MARTY
Right!
SHOPKEEPER
Dime a dozen. Say… I can get you a great deal on a slightly used vengeance demon.
MARTY
No…
SHOPKEEPER
Elephant god?
MARTY
No. No, I’m in the market for something mainstream. An everyman’s sort of god.
SHOPKEEPER
Right. Well then, let’s scare up some details. What sort of belief system do you adhere to?
MARTY
I beg your pardon?
SHOPKEEPER
What do you believe?
MARTY
I don’t know – I suppose I believe whatever my god tells me to believe.
SHOPKEEPER
(Pauses. Scrutinizes MARTY’s face.)
That’s. Well… that’s not how it works.
MARTY
Whatever do you mean?
SHOPKEEPER
Well, it’s the other way ‘round, really. The opposite of that.
MARTY
S’cuse me?
SHOPKEEPER
It’s the reverse. It’s not, “Oh dearie me, I’ll believe whatever that ol’ fellow up there tells me.” No, it’s more, “Hey, I believe I’ll have me another beer, ‘cause by golly hops is divinely inspired let me tell you.”
MARTY
(A little too quickly.)
But… Burning bushes. Tablets. Verses. Laws!
SHOPKEEPER
(Dead stare. A beat passes.)
Laws isn’t the point. Point is, gods just echo back what you pitch at ‘em, yeah? Your mate says, “My god says your god is arse”, well it’s your mate what’s sayin’ it, right?
MARTY
(Completely without guile.)
They echo it?
SHOPKEEPER
Are you following me?
MARTY
They echo?
SHOPKEEPER
(Peeved.)
You’re a right funny man, aren’t ya? Alright now… let’s take a stab at your creed.
MARTY
Creed?
SHOPKEEPER
Your canon. Though shalt whatnot.
MARTY
Oh! Commandments! I’m very much in favor of ‘em.
SHOPKEEPER
Any particular favorites?
MARTY
Er. Why yes… Um. Oh!
(Thunderous! Arms waving.)
Thou shalt have no other god before me!
SHOPKEEPER
This your *first* god, then? Gods can be a bit tetchy ‘bout that sort of thing.
MARTY
Oh. Yes. Never mind that one. What else?
SHOPKEEPER
Murder?
MARTY
Against. Mostly. ‘Cept when it’s very well deserved. Honorable like.
SHOPKEEPER
Very well, then. Stealing?
MARTY
Bad.
SHOPKEEPER
Good!
MARTY
Oh, is it? Good then.
SHOPKEEPER
Adultery?
MARTY
You’re not my type.
SHOPKEEPER
What’s your stance on idolatry?
MARTY
Wide.
SHOPKEEPER
(Droll.)
And I’m not your type?
MARTY
Not remotely.
SHOPKEEPER
How are you on coveting?
MARTY
Very good, indeed. Covet like nobody’s business.
SHOPKEEPER
Bearing false witness?
MARTY
(Levers an arm behind his back.)
Oh, certainly not.
SHOPKEEPER
I’m sorry, what was that gesture?
MARTY
What?
SHOPKEEPER
That thing you just did behind your back?
MARTY
(Reveals his crossed fingers.)
Er? This? It’s for luck.
(Pauses. And with a gleam in his eye…)
That’s what my god says, anyhoo.
SHOPKEEPER
Ah. Well, then. That’s that. There’s only let’s us settle up. And how will you be paying for your new god?
MARTY
(Outraged!)
Pay? What do you mean pay?
SHOPKEEPER
Payment. It’s the exchange-of or compensation-for valuable goods or services.
MARTY
I know what paying is… but why would I pay you?
SHOPKEEPER
(A vacant, toothy smile.)
Oh, mercy. No, it’s not for me. It’s for your god.
MARTY
Oh. Well that’s different, then. Here’s my wallet.
(END SCENE.)
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