BEST SHOT

A One-Act Play

(note, I was digging through some old files and came across this one-act from my playwright days. It made me giggle and so I’m sharing it with you. It’s available in THE JOSHUA JAMES PROJECT and royalty-free for amateur production. Enjoy!)

BEST SHOT

A one-act play
by Joshua Todd James

CHARACTERS:

DARIN – A perfectly nice-looking young man, 25, the kind that any girl would want their mother to meet.

DOTTIE – A very pretty woman, 29, with an extremely hard edge in her eye and in her tone.

TRACY – A very cute young woman, 24, exactly like the girl next door. Dottie’s younger sister.

SETTING: Dottie and Tracy’s apartment, late at night.

TIME: Present.

LIGHTS UP

(DARIN, 25, enters the living room. He is barefoot, wearing a button shirt only half-buttoned, and boxer shorts. He looks around and spots his watch on a table. He pads over, picks it up, and puts it on. DARIN yawns and stretches his arms over his head. He freezes when he spots DOTTIE, 29, in her pajamas, standing in the doorway, pointing a gun at him.)

DOTTIE: Don’t you fucking move, fucker.

DARIN: What? Who are—

DOTTIE: I said don’t you FUCKING move! I mean it. I will blow both your balls off. Turn around away from me. Put your hands behind your head. Right now. Clasp your fingers. Good. Get down on your knees.

DARIN: What?

DOTTIE: Down on your fucking knees, motherfucker, do it right fucking NOW. Slowly. (DARIN slowly lowers himself to his knees, hands behind his head. DOTTIE comes closer behind him.) Cross your feet at your ankles. That’s it. Stay just like that.

DARIN: Who are you?

DOTTIE: Who am I? I’m the person that LIVES here, asshole, I’m the person with the gun, and I’m the person asking the Goddamn fucking questions, you got that, pissant? You don’t ask me who I am, I ask you who you are, and that’s how it fucking WORKS. Get it?

(Very brief pause.)

DARIN: But you haven’t asked me who I am—

DOTTIE: SHUT UP! Don’t speak unless I tell you to. (Brief pause.) Who are you?

DARIN: My name’s Darin, I’m—

DOTTIE: I don’t know any fucking DARINS, I don’t know you at ALL!

DARIN: I’m with—

DOTTIE: SHUT UP! Here’s the big question, Darin. Where’s your pants?

DARIN: I’m ... I’m not sure. DOTTIE: You’re not sure?

DARIN: I was looking for them when you ... when you came in and held me up.

DOTTIE: Why would your pants be in my house in the first place, Darin?

DARIN: Well, they sorta got flung off in the heat of the moment. DOTTIE: The heat of WHAT moment, Darin?

DARIN: Well, I—

DOTTIE: Were you playing with yourself, Darin? Are you one of those creeps that breaks into a girl’s house just so he can fondle her underwear and get off, is that it? Did you pick up my panties in the laundry basket and start whacking your little weasel, is that what’s going on?

DARIN: No, I’m just—

DOTTIE: Don’t fucking lie to me, Darin, I can always tell when someone’s lying to me, so you better be FUCKING CAREFUL that you tell the truth, you’re trespassing, and that means I could shoot you right here, and no jury in the world would convict me, do you fucking hear me?

DARIN: I’m not—

DOTTIE: I’m going to fucking SHOOT you, I swear to Christ!

(TRACY, 24, enters wearing a pajama top and panties.)

TRACY: Dottie, what are you doing?

DOTTIE: Dial 911, Trace, I caught an intruder, and I’m going to fucking shoot him.

TRACY: Dottie, stop it.

DOTTIE: You can legally shoot somebody when they’re in your house, so I’m taking fucking advantage of this opportunity.

TRACY: Dottie, stop being crazy and put the gun down.

DOTTIE: I’m not being crazy, this sick fuck is running around in his skivvies in our house, what are we supposed to do?

TRACY: We’re supposed to be NICER to our guests. Darin, get up.

DOTTIE: Guest? You know this creep?

TRACY: Of course I know him, why else would he be here? Darin, get up.

DARIN: I’d really rather not.

DOTTIE: How do you know this creep?

TRACY: Dottie, just stop it, he’s not a creep. Darin, it’s okay, you can get up. She’s just being crazy.

(DARIN stands slowly and carefully, keeping his eye on DOTTIE.)

DOTTIE: You two know each other? How do you know each other?

TRACY: We just do. Darin, I’m really sorry.

DARIN: Is that a real gun?

DOTTIE: Yes, it’s a real fucking gun. If you know him, then how come I don’t know him?

TRACY: Because you don’t know everything.

DARIN: Is the gun, you know, is that gun you have there ... is it loaded?

DOTTIE: Of course, it’s loaded, what good is an unloaded gun?

TRACY: Would you stop waving it around before you hurt someone.

DOTTIE: If you know him, then what’s he doing here in our house at three in the morning, not wearing pants, where’s his fucking pants?

TRACY: Well, right now, we’re looking for his pants.

DOTTIE: You’re looking for his pants? Why is he not wearing his pants in the first place?

TRACY: Dottie—

DOTTIE: Tracy, I notice that you are also without pants.

TRACY: Yeah, so?

DOTTIE: So how did you come to be that way? What sort of activities were you engaged in that necessitated the both of you being “sans” pants?

TRACY: Just stop it.

DOTTIE: Darin here confessed his pants were lost in the HEAT of a moment. Were you involved in said “heated moment?”

TRACY: What do you think?

(Brief pause.)

DARIN: She wasn’t really going to shoot me, was she?

DOTTIE: Hell, yes, I was going to shoot you.

(Very brief pause.)

TRACY: She was probably going to shoot you.

DARIN: Oh shit. Shit, I ... I think I need to sit down.

(DARIN carefully walks over to a chair and sits down.)

TRACY: Darin, I’m sorry, this is my sister, I should have told you about her, but I didn’t. I didn’t think we’d wake her up.

DOTTIE: Why wouldn’t I wake up with all the “heated” moments flying around down here?

DARIN: Sister?

TRACY: Yes. Darin, this is Dottie, Dottie this is my friend Darin.

DARIN: How do you do?

DOTTIE: “Friend?”

TRACY: What are you doing with a gun, anyway?

DOTTIE: I hear a big heated noise in the house late at night, I investigate and find your friend Darin here wandering around in his underpants, what do you expect I’m going to do? I have to protect myself, don’t I?

TRACY: You’re not even supposed to have a firearm, you’re violating your parole!

DARIN: Parole?

DOTTIE: Better my parole gets violated rather than my body. Speaking of body violations, let’s discuss this no-pants party you and Darin evidently engaged in with each other.

TRACY: Let’s not. It’s not your business.

DOTTIE: You’re my sister, you live in my house, that makes it my fucking business.

TRACY: It’s not YOUR house, it’s OUR house, Dad left it to both of us.

DARIN: Uh, excuse me, but you said parole?

DOTTIE: That’s right, she said parole. So where do you know my sister from, sweet-cheeks?

TRACY: It’s not any of your business, Dot.

DOTTIE: Where did you meet her?

DARIN: Well, uh—

TRACY: Don’t answer her, Darin, it’s not any of her business.

DOTTIE: Darin, may I remind you that I’m armed and dangerous?

TRACY: Damn it, Dottie, stop it.

DOTTIE: I’m a convicted felon, Darin, you don’t want to fuck with me. I’ve done time, I can be violent.

DARIN: We met in Bernie’s.

DOTTIE: The bar on fourteenth? You met there?

DARIN: Yes.

TRACY: Yes, we did, are you happy now? Put the gun away, you’ve only been out of jail three weeks, are you that anxious to go back?

DOTTIE: When was this? The meeting at Bernie’s, as it were.

TRACY: Darin, don’t—

DOTTIE: When the fuck was it, Darin!?

DARIN: Just a few hours ago.

(Brief pause.)

DOTTIE: Just a few hours ago. Met him in a bar, took him home and suddenly, yahoo, it’s a no-pants party.

TRACY: Don’t you DARE try to lecture me on MY BEHAVIOR!

DOTTIE: I’m supposed to be looking out for you, Dad asked me on his deathbed to take care of you, and I take that seriously!

TRACY: Dad didn’t know at the time that you were a drug dealer, Dottie, had he known that, it might have affected his OPINION on the matter!

DOTTIE: Okay, YES, I was a drug dealer, and YES, it was something I have gone to jail for, but ONE, psychedelics, mushrooms, and marijuana should be legalized, and TWO, there’s not a lot of big money options for female high school drop-outs and THREE, that “drug money” helped put you through high school and college! I did what I had to do, and FOUR, I don’t know anyone with a BRAIN that honestly thinks marijuana should be against the law!!

TRACY: Are you going to use that on me again, the “put me through school” diatribe, isn’t that getting fucking old?

DOTTIE: It’s the truth, isn’t it?

TRACY: I appreciate your help, but I didn’t know then where the money was coming from, and HAD I known—

DOTTIE: Come on!

TRACY: HAD I KNOWN, it would have changed everything.

DOTTIE: Come on, where did you THINK the money was coming from?

TRACY: It’s easy to see now, not so easy when I was young. You sold drugs.

DOTTIE: I can live with myself. How about you, Darin?

DARIN: What?

DOTTIE: Do you think marijuana should be against the law?

DARIN: I don’t smoke it myself, but no, I don’t think it should be against the law.

DOTTIE: See, even your one-night fuck buddy agrees with me.

TRACY: Dottie, shut up.

DARIN: I am, however, strongly in favor of gun control.

DOTTIE: I can’t believe you just brought a strange guy home. Do you know how DANGEROUS one-night stands can be? You don’t know this guy, what he might do or anything, he could be dangerous!

TRACY: Shut up. He is not dangerous.

DARIN: I’m really not dangerous, I’m not.

DOTTIE: Oh, come ON!

TRACY: Not that it’s any of your business, but Darin happens to be a very sweet, nice guy.

DOTTIE: COME ON! Don’t bullshit me! Nobody meets a nice sweet guy in a bar, takes him home, and fucks his brains out all in the same day, it just doesn’t happen! You meet a nice guy, cultivate him two or three months before you take his pants off! Nobody fucks a nice guy right away! No WAY is he a nice sweet guy, if he was, he wouldn’t be here!

TRACY: He is. Darin is a nice sweet guy. He’s a florist.

(Brief pause.)

DOTTIE: A florist?

TRACY: A florist.

DOTTIE: (to DARIN) You’re a florist?

DARIN: Well, yes, although actually, I prefer the term botanist. I have my own shop and attached greenhouse, many different plants, and we actually specialize in orchids, which is a flower so I guess the term florist isn’t that far off. People order from all over the world. I do pretty well for myself.

(Brief pause.)

DOTTIE: (to TRACY) You fucked a florist?

TRACY: Just STOP IT!

DOTTIE: Damn it, Tracy, one night stands, having a ONE NIGHT stand, that’s not the kind of thing YOU do, that’s not what Tracy does—

TRACY: How do you know it’s not the kind of thing Tracy does?

DOTTIE: What?

TRACY: I said, how do you know this isn’t the kind of thing that Tracy does? Maybe this is what I do.

DOTTIE: No, it’s not, don’t bullshit me.

TRACY: How do you know? You’ve been in jail for three years, how would you know? This could be my life, go out to bars every other night, get drunk, and have sex with strangers. Maybe that’s all I do.

DOTTIE: That’s not you. That’s not the kind of thing you do, that’s the kind of thing—

TRACY: The kind of thing that you do?

(Brief pause.)

DOTTIE: It’s the kind of thing that I USED to do.

TRACY: Maybe it’s what I do now.

DOTTIE: So you’re telling me that at some point in the last three years, your hobby has gone from being on the Dean’s list at college to getting wasted, grabbing the nearest guy, dragging him home, and pig-fucking him?

TRACY: Maybe.

DOTTIE: So that’s what he’s doing here, then? He’s just a random “pig- fuck”?

TRACY: Could be.

DOTTIE: If that’s true, when did you get so fucking stupid?

TRACY: All right, just stop it, all right?

DOTTIE: Do you know how many sick FUCKERS are out there? There are a lot of sick fucking sociopaths out there, and they come off all sweet and nice, but once they get inside—

TRACY: Stop it, I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore.

DOTTIE: I mean, have you LOST YOUR MIND? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

TRACY: Dottie, STOP IT, STOP IT! You’re embarrassing me!

DOTTIE: Oh, I’m embarrassing you in front of your random pig-fuck?

TRACY: YES! YOU’RE EMBARRASSING ME! You’ve always embarrassed me!

DOTTIE: Is that so?

TRACY: Do you have any fucking idea what it was like growing up with you as my older sister? God damn it, don’t you fucking GET IT? You were always fucking fighting with someone or doing something FUCKED UP! I am four years younger than her in school, Darin and everyone in my class knew about her and joked about her. She was the one everyone said was easy, everyone said would end up pregnant and on welfare, she came to school drunk and high, anything bad that could be done in high school was done by my sister. I was never “Tracy” to anyone I knew in school, I was always “Dottie’s sister,” and believe me, Darin, it wasn’t ever said as a compliment. Everyone expected the worst from me. Everyone treated me like I was the train wreck my sister was. I cried almost every day because of something she did at school because I was so embarrassed by her. And Dottie, you don’t even know or care what you did back then, you just made excuses like you’re doing now, you would never listen to anyone! You’re still doing it! As far as you are concerned, it’s you against the world, and you’re the one that’s never wrong, you never admit when you’re WRONG, and I’ve had enough of it. I’ve had ENOUGH! I have my own life now, I will do what I want, go where I want, take my pants off wherever I want, and sleep with whoever I want to without any input from you, thank you. I will pay back the money I got from you, but I don’t need your help anymore, I don’t need your advice anymore, I don’t need anything from you anymore. Don’t talk to me anymore!

(Short pause. TRACY starts to cry, turns around, and storms out of the room. DOTTIE slowly turns and sits down next to DARIN.)

DOTTIE: Well. That was fairly clear and concise.

(Very brief pause.)

DARIN: She didn’t mean what she said, the last part, I mean. She’s just upset. I know she really cares about you.

DOTTIE: Great, just great. I’m being comforted by my little sister’s pig- fucking one-night stand.

DARIN: I would just like to point out that ... that I’m not really a casual sex kind of guy, myself.

DOTTIE: Then what the hell are you doing here with my sister?

DARIN: That’s what I’m saying, I’m saying that it’s not casual, not casual at all.

DOTTIE: Oh really?

DARIN: I mean, it’s not a one-night stand, at least I hope that it’s not. As far as I’m concerned, what happened between your sister and me was a meaningful exchange between two thinking and feeling adults.

DOTTIE: Really?

DARIN: Really, I mean, I really like her, I do. There was no ... uh ... “pig-fucking” involved in what we shared with each other. That’s not how I would describe it anyway.

DOTTIE: I see.

DARIN: I think she’s a good person.

DOTTIE: How would you know she’s a good person for sure? You’ve known her less than six hours, how can you know for sure?

DARIN: I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it. (Very brief pause.) It’s hard to figure out what’s for sure in life. You know, I am an observer by nature, I think you have to be to do what I do, I mean, my job is to watch plants grow, among other things. And you’re right, there are a lot of sociopathic assholes in the world who only want to fuck you over. And women can be as bad and mean as men, trust me, I know all too well. I am a cautious man because of it. Then I met Tracy. Today. We really, really hit it off like nothing or no one else I’ve ever met. It was amazing, it was almost surreal, really, Tracy and I really seemed to connect in a way I’ve never experienced before. Seemed like a good thing, meeting her, and an even better thing, coming home with her. It seemed like I’d finally stumbled across a for sure good thing, maybe even a great thing. But to be honest, when you appeared, brandishing a gun and threatening to shoot me, when that happened I seriously began to question my own judgment. I mean, I’ve read about things like this happening to guys, get picked up by a beautiful woman, she takes him home, and next thing you know, he wakes up, and he’s missing a kidney. That’s what I thought was for sure going to happen when you jumped out at me. My point is, a lot of times, you just can’t know what’s for sure and what’s not for sure, so you have to act on faith. Dottie, I think I might be in love with your sister, but I don’t know for sure if she loves me. I suspect it, but I don’t and won’t know for sure for a while. Until I observe otherwise, I’m assuming that it will be a good thing and give it a shot. That’s all I can do, no matter how I feel about her, all I can do is give it my best shot.

(TRACY quietly enters holding DARIN’s pants, just catching the last part of what DARIN just said. DARIN looks at her a moment, then continues.)

DARIN: It’s not really my place to say anything, but it sounds like the two of you have been through a whole world of shit together. It was tough and rough and difficult, and it sounds like you both gave it your very best shot with the cards that you were dealt, and that’s the most anyone can ask of anybody. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, so maybe I can’t understand, but would it be too hard for you to just cut each other a fucking break? Because the one FOR SURE thing that I can see that the two of you have, is each other. That’s more than some people. And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?

(Short pause. TRACY walks forward and hands the pants to DARIN.)

DARIN: Thank you.

TRACY: You’re welcome.

(TRACY sits down next to DARIN, on the opposite side of DOTTIE. Brief pause.)

DOTTIE: Tracy.

TRACY: Yes Dottie?

DOTTIE: I was wrong.

TRACY: What?

DOTTIE: I was wrong and you were right.

TRACY: Right about what?

DOTTIE: He is a nice, sweet guy.

TRACY: Yes. He is.

(TRACY reaches across DARIN, holding out her hand. DOTTIE takes it.)

DOTTIE: I’m glad I didn’t shoot him.

TRACY: Me too.

DARIN: Me too.

Lights fade.
The End.

BEST SHOT NOTES:

First produced in 2003 by The Defiant Ones at Manhattan Theatre Source, featuring Heather Dilly, Journey McFarlane, and Jeff Bender, directed by David Title. Great cast, great direction, and just a whole lot of fun.

Later produced in Los Angeles with a different cast and director.

Small personal note: There aren’t a whole lot of things funnier than seeing the blonde and beautiful Heather Dilly spit out the word “pissant” like a drill sergeant.