A Corporate Affairs Christmas by Brian James Byrne

This Play is the copyright of the Author and must NOT be Performed without the Author's PRIOR consent

CHARACTERS
IAN Early 20's. Part-time university student. From the country. Dresses conservatively. Quiet. Slight hesitation to his speech.
PETER Early 20's. Outgoing. Likes to drink and gamble. Very casual business attire.
JULIE Early 20's. Young professional. Dresses in 80's business clothes. Ruffled blouses and padded shoulders.
RON Mid 50's. Long term public service employee. Shabby bargain-store shirts and slacks.
NOLA Early 20's. Lives in her own world. Eclectic multi-layered skirts and shawls. Likes recreational drugs.
SUSAN Late 30's. Mum. Low level management.
JOANNE Mid 20's. Professional. Business school graduate.

NOTES

When one character interrupts another the remainder of the interrupted sentence follows in brackets ...(remainder of sentence).

SETTING

The play is set in a Government Office in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia. All scenes are set in the cave-like microfiche reading room and the adjoining break room. In the microfiche room there are five large microfiche readers in a V setting. Three readers on one side of the stage. Two readers and the doorway on the other side. The microfiche room has no windows and only one entrance through the break room. The break room has a tea and coffee station and a notice board with assorted, work and health and safety notices. A wired phone in the break room is mounted on the wall. Both the break room and microfiche room are half-heartedly decorated in cheap and faded Christmas decorations (with the exception of Ron's work area which has no Christmas decorations).

Opening Date

Friday December 17th, 1982

ACT I
Scene 1 Friday Morning 8.45 am.
Scene 2 Friday Afternoon 12.50 pm.

ACT II
Scene 1 Friday evening. 7.45 pm.
Scene 2 Friday Evening. 9.15 pm.

Intermission

ACT III
Scene 1 Monday Morning 9.00 am.
Scene 2 Monday Afternoon 1.30 pm.


ACT [1]
SCENE [1]
(At Rise: Microfiche Room is lit. Ian and Peter sit at their workstations. Ian has an empty tea mug and Peter has a freshly filled coffee mug. Both have a small stack of forms on their work tops. They mechanically look back and forth between the forms and the screen of their microfiche readers. Ian takes out a microfiche from the reader and replaces it with another. Peter picks up a form, looks it over and then turns to Ian.)
PETER
Hey, check this out. Bloke recons he is selling fishing supplies and wants to call his place the Master Bait Shop. Except I know that neighborhood and the only thing you're going to catch on that street is something that requires a shot of penicillin.
(With a flourish he uses the red declined stamp on the form.)
Declined!
IAN
(standing up)
Yeah. That one is all right, I suppose. I'm going to make another cuppa. You right?
PETER
Good to go, thanks Squire.
(Ian walks into the break room. His shoulders are slumped. He puts a tea bag into his mug and puts an electric kettle on to boil. While waiting for it to boil he reads a notice pinned on the notice board while the kettle reboils. Peter starts softly singing Happy Christmas by John Lennon. He stands and picks up a bundle of forms from a communal in-basket at the back of the microfiche room and returns to his seat and starts to read them. The kettle boils, Ian makes his tea and then walks back into the microfiche room.)
IAN
Did you see that notice on the board about the efficiency study?
PETER
No, but Kyle was talking about it down the Criterion last night.
IAN
Country Kyle from Complaints?
PETER
No. Crazy Kyle from the mailroom. He was talking about how somebody called Joe from a consulting company was asking him about mail volumes and sorting and all sorts of crap. As soon as Kyle said they were only pestering departments with more than twenty staff, I tuned him out.
IAN
It doesn't say anything about department size in the notice.
PETER
Don't even sweat it. I'm sure our local Union Rep would have given us the heads up if it was anything to worry about. And speaking of our office ray of sunshine, I wonder the bugger is?
IAN
You think he is taking a sickie?
PETER
I doubt it. No way he's missing the bloody Christmas Party. He might think religion is an insidious opiate that exists to placate the masses, but the tight bastard'll be here for free beer and sausage rolls.
(Picks up one of the forms in his bundle.)
PETER
What about this one? Jack the Stripper. Guy does furniture refinishing. That one definitely goes on the hall of fame.
(writes the name on a list on his desk)
IAN
(half-heartedly)
I guess that one's clever.
PETER
Come on, what crawled up your bum and died? You look like the hearse carrying your mum ran over your puppy. I told you the efficiency study's got nothing to do with us.
IAN
No, look, no it's not that, it's nothing. Okay?
PETER
Balls. You didn't eat breakfast at that dodgy cafe on the corner, did you? I swear the axles on my shit-box Ford have less grease than their bacon sandwiches.
IAN
No. It's just... Look. I can trust you right?
PETER
You have to ask? We've been mates since Primary School. If you hadn't dragged me to the library I'd probably still be failing Brother's Sheriff's Seventh Grade History class.
IAN
(Sighs, turns his chair fully to face Peter. Peter turns his chair as well.)
You remember that Friday last month when we had the really bad thunderstorm?
PETER
The one where it pissed down all night and half the next day? Sure. There was a foot and a half of water at the bottom of Gran's driveway.
IAN
Right. Well. I had an exam coming up, so I was going to drive out to campus to study. It was bucketing down when I left. As I was walking down to the car park, I saw Nola waiting for the bus.
PETER
Yeah?
IAN
She didn't have an umbrella and when it comes to keeping you dry, you know that bus shelter is about as useful as a tissue-paper trench coat. So, I offered her a lift home.
PETER
You hound! I didn't know you had a thing for Nola.
IAN
I don't. I mean. I didn't. You know, she was drenched, and cold. And it was kind of on my way. Just seemed like the right thing to do. When we got back to her house, she asked me in for a cup of green tea.
PETER
A cup of tea? Geeze. This story is sounding less and less like a letter to Penthouse.
(Julie enters the break room. She hangs a dress in a plastic garment carrier on a wall hook. Then she makes herself a Nescafe instant coffee. She gives no indication of being able to hear the conversation in the next room)
IAN
Her flat mates were out, so it was just us. She asked me to put the kettle on while she got into something dry. When she came back, she was just wearing one of those little Japanese Happi Coat things.
PETER
Oh cripes. You didn't
IAN
(nods)
PETER
You and Nola? Bloody Hell. I mean, nothing personal mate, but I thought you were saving yourself for your wedding night. And Nola, well... I just wouldn't have picked the two of you. So, are you a couple now? You're keeping it pretty bloody quiet if you are.
IAN
I don't know what we are. I called her the next morning and asked her if she wanted to go out to dinner. She said she had a date with the rhythm guitarist from Dream Catcher. That he was taking her down the Coast on the back of his bike. So she wouldn't be back until Sunday night.
PETER
That sounds like Nola. So, you down 'cause you did the nasty and she cut you loose? Honestly mate, I think you might have dodged a bullet there.
IAN
No. Well, maybe a little. But it's not that. Tuesday, when we had drinks for Graham's send off, she was on ginger beer instead of her usual Bundy and cokes. I asked her if she was feeling crook. She just smiled and said she felt fine. Then she said she was late and just in case, she didn't want the baby getting any second-hand rum.
PETER
Shit. You didn't put a raincoat on your donger?
IAN
(shakes head)
PETER
Mate. Someday, you and I need to have a long talk. It's no wonder you look lower than Satan's balls. How late is she?
IAN
Seven days.
PETER
A week. Way too early to panic.
IAN
Well, Nola counted and... (she was pretty sure it was 7 days).
PETER
Mate, I love Nola but she wouldn't be my first choice if I needed an accountant. I'd reckon there's a pretty wide margin of error on that seven-day number.
IAN
So she could be even later?
PETER
Way to see the bright side mate. Look, if push comes to shove I know...(a discrete doctor)
(Julie enters through the open office door and Peter stops mid-sentence. She notices that conversation stops as she enters.)
JULIE
Don't stop talking on my account. What juicy office gossip are you two getting into?
IAN
Um...
PETER
We were talking about who we got for the Secret Santa draw and what we got them. As your name came up, you are just going to have to wait till this afternoon to find out.
JULIE
I know that neither of you got Ron. Cause I got stuck with him. I got him six bars of Palmolive and two sticks of Old Spice underarm. You think he'll get the hint?
PETER
I don't know. He seems pretty wed to Eau de Fish-market.