Characters:
MARCUS: Mid-20s, intensely defensive.
CLARA: Mid-20s, eerily calm.
Setting: A cramped studio apartment. A single pizza box sits on a coffee table.
(The lights come up on MARCUS and CLARA staring at the pizza box. One slice remains.)
MARCUS: I did the math. I paid for the extra toppings. The jalapeños were my executive decision.
CLARA: You also ate the crusts I left behind. That’s a caloric surcharge. You’re already ahead.
MARCUS: That’s recycling, Clara. I was cleaning the plate.
CLARA: (Reaching slowly) I haven’t eaten since the brunch we skipped because you couldn't find your left shoe.
MARCUS: (Slaps the table) Don’t bring the shoe into this. This is about justice. This is about the pepperoni-to-cheese ratio I’ve maintained all night.
MARCUS: No. Now I can’t. You’ve made it a pity slice.
MARCUS: (Quickly) Wait! Let’s be civilized. Rock, paper, scissors. Best of seventeen.
CLARA: (Sighs) Rock.
MARCUS: (Simultaneously) Scissors. Dammit!
CLARA: (Picks up the slice) Victory tastes like lukewarm grease.
MARCUS: I hope it haunts you.
(CLARA takes a huge bite. MARCUS watches, heartbroken.)
MARCUS: ...Yes.
[BLACKOUT]
The Waiting Room
Characters:
A: Dressed in a suit, checking a watch that doesn't tick.
B: Dressed in pajamas, holding a toaster.
Setting: A room with two chairs and a white door.
A: You’re late.
B: I didn't know there was a schedule. I was making breakfast.
A: You can't bring that in here.
B: It’s stuck. My bagel is still in there. If I leave it, it’ll burn.
A: (Points to the door) There is no "burn" where we’re going. There is only the Appointment.
B: Is it an interview? Because I’m not wearing pants.
B: (Beat) Of what?
A: Everything. Every time you didn't return a library book. Every time you "forgot" to tip. The bagel is the least of your worries.
B: I tipped the pizza guy last night! Twenty percent!
A: (Checks a phantom clipboard) That’s noted. It bought you the chair with the cushion.
B: (Looks at A’s chair) You’re sitting on plastic.
A: (Stiffly) I didn't return a lawnmower in 1998.
(The white door clicks open. A bright light spills in.)
B: Is it time?
A: For you. I’m still waiting for the mower owner to show up so I can apologize.
B: (Clutching the toaster) Wish me luck.
A: Don't worry. They usually like bagels.
Would you like me to expand one of these into a multi-scene script or write a third play in a specific genre like horror?
AI can make mistakes, so double-check responses
CLARA: It’s a piece of dough, Marcus. Just take it.
CLARA: Fine. I’ll take it.
CLARA: (Muffled) Want a bite?
A: It’s an accounting.
[
continue
The Unpaid Tab
Characters:
GREG: A nervous man in a tuxedo.
SHEILA: A woman in a leather jacket, holding a clipboard.
Setting: A dimly lit hallway outside a wedding reception. Muffled "YMCA" plays in the background.
GREG: I told you, the check is in the mail. Or it’s coming. My uncle handles the estate.
SHEILA: Your uncle has been "handling the estate" since the appetizers, Greg. It’s midnight. The band is packing up. I need the final payment for the ice sculpture.
GREG: It melted! Technically, I’m paying for a puddle now. Shouldn’t there be a depreciation discount?
SHEILA: It was a six-foot swan, Greg. It performed its duty for four hours. It’s not my fault your cousin tried to ride it.
SHEILA: (Deadpan) I’m a professional event coordinator, not a pawn shop.
GREG: Fine. (He pulls a ring box from his pocket). Take the backup ring.
SHEILA: (Opens it) This is a Ring Pop. Strawberry.
SHEILA: (Sighs, unwraps the candy, and starts licking it). Fine. But I’m taking the centerpiece from Table 4, too.
GREG: Deal.
[BLACKOUT]
The Elevator Pitch
Characters:
SAM: A frantic inventor.
MS. VANCE: A cold, high-powered CEO.
Setting: An elevator stuck between floors.
SAM: (Panting) Okay, look. You’re trapped. I’m trapped. It’s fate.
MS. VANCE: It’s a mechanical failure, Sam. Sit down before you consume all the oxygen.
SAM: Just hear me out: Edible shoes.
MS. VANCE: No.
SAM: Think about it! You’re hiking, you get lost, you’re starving—bam! You eat your left loafer. High protein, tanned leather flavor.
MS. VANCE: What happens if it rains? You’re walking on soggy toast?
SAM: I’m working on a waterproof glaze. Made of honey and resin.
MS. VANCE: You want me to invest in "sticky boots."
SAM: (Desperate) I have a prototype! (He starts unlacing his shoe).
MS. VANCE: If you put that shoe near my face, I will make sure you never work in this city again.
SAM: (Freezes with the shoe halfway to his mouth). Is that a "maybe"?
(The elevator jerks and starts moving again.)
MS. VANCE: That’s a "get out at the next floor."
[BLACKOUT]
GREG: (Straightening his tie) Look, I’m a little short. How about I give you the toaster I just got from my Aunt Linda? It’s chrome.
GREG: It's a vintage 2024.Very rare.
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