Well, I have to write short 10-15 page [15-25 minutes long] play for my English Class. I thought I'd post it here to see what you guys think. It's written in the style the writer of "Our Town" used if you're familiar with that god awful play. If you watch the Simpson's, you'll notice a lot of quotes in it. 
This is only Act 1 of two acts.
Our Bar
(Rough Draft)
"Hans"-Stage Manager / Bartender / Mike
"Mac"-Drunk / Looking for a job
"John McKlain"-Vietnam Veteran / Schizophrenic / Billards Player
"Mr. Spielbergo"- Billards player / Steve the Announcer
"Tubbs"-Customer 2 / Looking for a job
Stage directions in *.
(Theme song to Cheers playing in the background)
ACT I
"Prequel to Drunkeness"
*The stage manager walks onto the stage. He talks about the characters' backgrounds.*
Stage Manager: Hi, I'm Don Herems! You may remember me from such plays as "The Crucible" and "Our Town." Tonight's play is about two fellows talking at the local bar about a job they both want to get. The bar, The Last Call, is owned and operated by Hans. This bar is in a small mid-western town, densly populated by people that wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of city life. The bar tender takes care of the place and sees many different people on a daily basis. *The stage manager walks towards the bar. He pretends to clean some glasses with a towel.* Let's now join in the conversation between Tubbs and Mac as they sit at the bar and have a drink. These two men are jobless at the moment, but are hoping to get a job real soon from the local dog food factory.
Drunk: *Sitting at the bar.* Hey Tubbs, did you hear about the new job opening available at Bitchin' Dog Food factory down the road? *He pretends to eat some pretzels.*
Customer 2: *Sitting at the bar.* Yeah. I applied, I hope I'll get the job. *He says as he takes a sip of his drink. He and the drunk keep talking in the background as the stage manager walks towards the front of the stage.*
Stage Manager: As the bar goers talk, here we see two people playing a game of pool. *The stage manager walks towards the pool table.* *The manager points his hands at each person as he explains their backgrounds.* John McKlain, a Vietnam veteran, is sort of schizophrenic. He spurts out random things as though as he talks. But between you and me, he really wasn't in Vietnam. Now, this man has lived on the poorer side of society growing up, some say that's how he went crazy.
The other person playing pool is Mr. Spielbergo. This man is the son of the state's Senator. He visits the town every now and then. He's lived a good life, single, and a bit of a pool hustler. Nice shot. *The manager now walks back to the bar taking his place as the bar tender.*
McKlain: That was a nice shot Mr. Spielbergo. You might just win this round. *He takes a shot.*
Spielbergo: The game's not over yet. *He takes a shot and stands straight up.* Your shot pal.
McKlain: That's a stabbin'.
Stage Manager: As you can see, we have people from all walks of life today in this bar. Rich, poor, crazy, sane, jobless, working.
Mac: Hey bar tender, do you have any food that wasn't brutally slaughtered?
Bartender: I think the veal died of loneliness. You can have that if you like.
Mac: Eeeehh, OK.
*Bar tender starts to cook the veal.*
McKlain: We had quitters in the war, too. We called them "New Mexicans."
Spielbergo: Woah, slow down there maestro. There's a "New" Mexico?
*Bar Tender holds his hand over the veal and throws some seasoning onto it*
Bartender: Bam! I don't know about you, but where I get my veal from, it doesn't come seasoned.
*Hans gives Mac the cooked veal.*
Bartender: Here you go pal, enjoy.
*The drunk starts to eat his veal.*
Mac: It tastes like.......burning! *He falls over onto the ground with convulsions.*
Tubbs: Are you OK? *He takes another sip of his drink as he looks down.*
McKlain: Are these people getting dumber or just louder?
Spielbergo: Dumber, sir. *He bends down to take another shot.* Looks like I win. That means you're buying the beer.
*The telephone rings.*
*Mac gets up from the floor as he recovers from the very hot food he just ate and sits back onto his bar stool.*
Bartender: Joe's Crematorium. You kill 'em, we grill 'em. Ummm, I mean, this is The Last Call. How may I help you?.........
*The bar tender goes on talking with the person on the phone.*
Tubbs: Hans, may I have another drink please?
Bartender: *Hangs up the phone.* Here you go, a cold beer.
*Tubbs takes a drink from the beer bottle.*
Tubbs: Where did you get this beer?
Bartender: *Holds up a bottle reading where it's from.* Hhmmm, it says it's from Shotz Bottling Company in Milwaukee.
Tubbs: Good enough for me.
McKlain: My father is not a Communist... he may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a Communist... but he is "Not" a porn star. *The side of his face twitches a little.*
Spielbergo: That's more information then I needed to know.
*The two keep playing pool as Tubbs and Mac talk some more.*
Mac: Tubbs, would you know what the job at the factory would be?
Tubbs: I think they wanted people to put the packages onto trucks.
Mac: That job doesn't sound bad. *Takes a gulp of his beer.*
Spielbergo: Eight-Ball corner pocket. *He makes his last shot.* Looks like I win again Mister Bond, I mean McKlain.
McKlain: Darn it all.
Stage Manager: Like I said earlier, Mr. Spielbergo is a pool hustler, a very good hustler at that.
*Mr. Spielbergo and Mr. McKlain walk to the bar joining Tubbs and Mac.*
McKlain: Got any of that beer that has candy floating in it? You know, Skittlebrau?
Bartender: Such a beer doesn't exist, sir. You must have dreamed it.
McKlain: Oh well. Then just give me a beer and a bag of skittles.
Bartender: *Hands the skittles and the beer to Mr. McKlain.* Here you go sir.
McKlain: MMmmm, skittles. Gaaaaahhh. *He says as he tilts his head backwards with his mouth open.*
Spielbergo: That was a good game John. Since you're buying, I think I'll have a drink.
*Tubbs starts to light up a cigarette.*
Spielbergo: Bar tender, I wanted a Zima, not emphazima.
*Tubbs quickly puts his cigarette out in the ash tray.*
*Hans sits down on his stool as he has a conversation with the customers.*
McKlain: Did I tell you the story about me during the war?
Spielbergo: No, but I bet you're going to right now huh?
McKlain: Back in Vietnam, I was walking through the woods with my platoon, number 46 when we where ambushed. I watched my fellow soldiers fall before my very eyes. *Takes a sip of his beer with the skittles in it.* The Charlie where everywhere. I couldn't save most of my men, but I managed to scare off half of the Viet Cong by killing half of their men with a peice of string and a lantern.
Stage Manager: As you can see, these men have had a couple drinks tonight, and the alcohol is starting to take its affect on these people. *The phone rings.* Let me get that.
*He picks up the phone.*
Bartender: Hello? ........... Ok, hold on for a minute. Hey, has anyone seen Amanda Hugankiss? Anyone? I'm looking for Amanda Hugankiss.
*Everyone at the bar start to laugh at the phone prank.*
Bartender: Why those punk kids. *He hangs up the phone.* One of these days I'll catch onto their little games.
Mac: *He dips a potato chip into some dip on the counter.* This dip is pretty good. *He dips the chip into the dip again.*
Tubbs: You just double dipped.
Mac: Did not.
Tubbs: Yes you did. I just saw you. *Stares him down with authority.*
Mac: Ok, ok! I double dipped. I'm sorry.
Bartender: I hate my job. Day in and day out. All I do is serve drinks, cook, and clean tables. Same ol' same ol' everyday. I'm getting bored doing the same thing. I think I'm going to go on strike tomorrow.
Spielbergo: Hans, you're a smart man. You didn't start working here for nothing. You wanted something. Anyway, if you don't like your job, don't strike. You just go in every day and do it really half-assed. That's the American way.
Bartender: For someone that's been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, you have a very valid point Sir. I think I will start doing things half-assed. *He leans back into his chair with a smile on his face.*
Spielbergo: Wow, that's the first time someone called me sir, without adding "you're making a scene."
Mac: Do you have any of that German imported beer?
Bartender: The only beer that I have that is close to being imported is this stuff from Shotz.
Mac: I'll try that then.
*The bar tender hands him the beer.*
*Mac tilts his head back taking a sip.*
Mac: Mmmm, Shotz!
*The bar tender looks towards the auidence as he speaks.*
Stage Manager: As you can see, the boys are now starting to get a bit drunk because of the alcohol consumption.
McKlain: Dude, shut up you retard.
McKlain: I didn't scream like a maniac when Charlie took my legs during the fall of Saigon. That's because I was in a mansion taking pictures of the war from a safe distance, just like Al Gore did. My hero. *His face twitches again.*
Tubbs: Hey Mac, I dare you to eat those week old pretzels. *He says with a slight wobble since he is currently drunk.*
Tubbs: There's a $10,000 bill in it for you.
Mac: Oh yeah? Which president is on it?
Tubbs: Um, all of them. They are having a party. Jimmy Carter is passed out on the couch.
Spielbergo: I wouldn't eat those if i were you. They look diseased.
Mac: You got a deal. *He spreads his arm across the bar top reaching for the pretzel while being under the influence.*
*Mac eats a pretzel.*
Mac: Eeeeew! This tastes like grandma!
*Tubbs eats a pretzel.*
Tubbs: You're right, it does taste like grandma. How old is this stuff?
*The bar tender shoves the bowl of old pretzels into the trash can.*
Bartender: What stuff?
Mac: Those pretzels. *He throws the pretzel at McKlain in anger while drunk.*
*John McKlain gives the evil eye as he smacks Mac across the side of the head.*
Mac: Hey, What was that for?
McKlain: You hit me with a pretzel nitwit.
Mac: I'll hit you with something more then just a pretzel. *Drunkingly, he tries to hit McKlain with his right wrist, but misses and spins off of his bar stool.*
McKlain: Ok, that's it. *He says with a slur.*
*McKlain picks up Mac and pushes him into Tubbs knocking him off of his stool.*
Tubbs: Now that was uncalled for! *He says as he points his limp finger towards Mac.*
Mac: Huh? I didn't do anything.
Tubbs: I challenge you to a duel.
*Tubbs slaps Mac with a glove.*
McKlain: *Picks up Mac by his shirt and gets ready to swing at him.*
Stage Manager: All right, everyone freeze!
*All the actors stop right where they are, like time froze. McKlain prepares for his swing, Spielbergo just sits on his stool, and Tubbs stands still.*
This is only Act 1 of two acts.
Our Bar
(Rough Draft)
"Hans"-Stage Manager / Bartender / Mike
"Mac"-Drunk / Looking for a job
"John McKlain"-Vietnam Veteran / Schizophrenic / Billards Player
"Mr. Spielbergo"- Billards player / Steve the Announcer
"Tubbs"-Customer 2 / Looking for a job
Stage directions in *.
(Theme song to Cheers playing in the background)
ACT I
"Prequel to Drunkeness"
*The stage manager walks onto the stage. He talks about the characters' backgrounds.*
Stage Manager: Hi, I'm Don Herems! You may remember me from such plays as "The Crucible" and "Our Town." Tonight's play is about two fellows talking at the local bar about a job they both want to get. The bar, The Last Call, is owned and operated by Hans. This bar is in a small mid-western town, densly populated by people that wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of city life. The bar tender takes care of the place and sees many different people on a daily basis. *The stage manager walks towards the bar. He pretends to clean some glasses with a towel.* Let's now join in the conversation between Tubbs and Mac as they sit at the bar and have a drink. These two men are jobless at the moment, but are hoping to get a job real soon from the local dog food factory.
Drunk: *Sitting at the bar.* Hey Tubbs, did you hear about the new job opening available at Bitchin' Dog Food factory down the road? *He pretends to eat some pretzels.*
Customer 2: *Sitting at the bar.* Yeah. I applied, I hope I'll get the job. *He says as he takes a sip of his drink. He and the drunk keep talking in the background as the stage manager walks towards the front of the stage.*
Stage Manager: As the bar goers talk, here we see two people playing a game of pool. *The stage manager walks towards the pool table.* *The manager points his hands at each person as he explains their backgrounds.* John McKlain, a Vietnam veteran, is sort of schizophrenic. He spurts out random things as though as he talks. But between you and me, he really wasn't in Vietnam. Now, this man has lived on the poorer side of society growing up, some say that's how he went crazy.
The other person playing pool is Mr. Spielbergo. This man is the son of the state's Senator. He visits the town every now and then. He's lived a good life, single, and a bit of a pool hustler. Nice shot. *The manager now walks back to the bar taking his place as the bar tender.*
McKlain: That was a nice shot Mr. Spielbergo. You might just win this round. *He takes a shot.*
Spielbergo: The game's not over yet. *He takes a shot and stands straight up.* Your shot pal.
McKlain: That's a stabbin'.
Stage Manager: As you can see, we have people from all walks of life today in this bar. Rich, poor, crazy, sane, jobless, working.
Mac: Hey bar tender, do you have any food that wasn't brutally slaughtered?
Bartender: I think the veal died of loneliness. You can have that if you like.
Mac: Eeeehh, OK.
*Bar tender starts to cook the veal.*
McKlain: We had quitters in the war, too. We called them "New Mexicans."
Spielbergo: Woah, slow down there maestro. There's a "New" Mexico?
*Bar Tender holds his hand over the veal and throws some seasoning onto it*
Bartender: Bam! I don't know about you, but where I get my veal from, it doesn't come seasoned.
*Hans gives Mac the cooked veal.*
Bartender: Here you go pal, enjoy.
*The drunk starts to eat his veal.*
Mac: It tastes like.......burning! *He falls over onto the ground with convulsions.*
Tubbs: Are you OK? *He takes another sip of his drink as he looks down.*
McKlain: Are these people getting dumber or just louder?
Spielbergo: Dumber, sir. *He bends down to take another shot.* Looks like I win. That means you're buying the beer.
*The telephone rings.*
*Mac gets up from the floor as he recovers from the very hot food he just ate and sits back onto his bar stool.*
Bartender: Joe's Crematorium. You kill 'em, we grill 'em. Ummm, I mean, this is The Last Call. How may I help you?.........
*The bar tender goes on talking with the person on the phone.*
Tubbs: Hans, may I have another drink please?
Bartender: *Hangs up the phone.* Here you go, a cold beer.
*Tubbs takes a drink from the beer bottle.*
Tubbs: Where did you get this beer?
Bartender: *Holds up a bottle reading where it's from.* Hhmmm, it says it's from Shotz Bottling Company in Milwaukee.
Tubbs: Good enough for me.
McKlain: My father is not a Communist... he may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a Communist... but he is "Not" a porn star. *The side of his face twitches a little.*
Spielbergo: That's more information then I needed to know.
*The two keep playing pool as Tubbs and Mac talk some more.*
Mac: Tubbs, would you know what the job at the factory would be?
Tubbs: I think they wanted people to put the packages onto trucks.
Mac: That job doesn't sound bad. *Takes a gulp of his beer.*
Spielbergo: Eight-Ball corner pocket. *He makes his last shot.* Looks like I win again Mister Bond, I mean McKlain.
McKlain: Darn it all.
Stage Manager: Like I said earlier, Mr. Spielbergo is a pool hustler, a very good hustler at that.
*Mr. Spielbergo and Mr. McKlain walk to the bar joining Tubbs and Mac.*
McKlain: Got any of that beer that has candy floating in it? You know, Skittlebrau?
Bartender: Such a beer doesn't exist, sir. You must have dreamed it.
McKlain: Oh well. Then just give me a beer and a bag of skittles.
Bartender: *Hands the skittles and the beer to Mr. McKlain.* Here you go sir.
McKlain: MMmmm, skittles. Gaaaaahhh. *He says as he tilts his head backwards with his mouth open.*
Spielbergo: That was a good game John. Since you're buying, I think I'll have a drink.
*Tubbs starts to light up a cigarette.*
Spielbergo: Bar tender, I wanted a Zima, not emphazima.
*Tubbs quickly puts his cigarette out in the ash tray.*
*Hans sits down on his stool as he has a conversation with the customers.*
McKlain: Did I tell you the story about me during the war?
Spielbergo: No, but I bet you're going to right now huh?
McKlain: Back in Vietnam, I was walking through the woods with my platoon, number 46 when we where ambushed. I watched my fellow soldiers fall before my very eyes. *Takes a sip of his beer with the skittles in it.* The Charlie where everywhere. I couldn't save most of my men, but I managed to scare off half of the Viet Cong by killing half of their men with a peice of string and a lantern.
Stage Manager: As you can see, these men have had a couple drinks tonight, and the alcohol is starting to take its affect on these people. *The phone rings.* Let me get that.
*He picks up the phone.*
Bartender: Hello? ........... Ok, hold on for a minute. Hey, has anyone seen Amanda Hugankiss? Anyone? I'm looking for Amanda Hugankiss.
*Everyone at the bar start to laugh at the phone prank.*
Bartender: Why those punk kids. *He hangs up the phone.* One of these days I'll catch onto their little games.
Mac: *He dips a potato chip into some dip on the counter.* This dip is pretty good. *He dips the chip into the dip again.*
Tubbs: You just double dipped.
Mac: Did not.
Tubbs: Yes you did. I just saw you. *Stares him down with authority.*
Mac: Ok, ok! I double dipped. I'm sorry.
Bartender: I hate my job. Day in and day out. All I do is serve drinks, cook, and clean tables. Same ol' same ol' everyday. I'm getting bored doing the same thing. I think I'm going to go on strike tomorrow.
Spielbergo: Hans, you're a smart man. You didn't start working here for nothing. You wanted something. Anyway, if you don't like your job, don't strike. You just go in every day and do it really half-assed. That's the American way.
Bartender: For someone that's been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, you have a very valid point Sir. I think I will start doing things half-assed. *He leans back into his chair with a smile on his face.*
Spielbergo: Wow, that's the first time someone called me sir, without adding "you're making a scene."
Mac: Do you have any of that German imported beer?
Bartender: The only beer that I have that is close to being imported is this stuff from Shotz.
Mac: I'll try that then.
*The bar tender hands him the beer.*
*Mac tilts his head back taking a sip.*
Mac: Mmmm, Shotz!
*The bar tender looks towards the auidence as he speaks.*
Stage Manager: As you can see, the boys are now starting to get a bit drunk because of the alcohol consumption.
McKlain: Dude, shut up you retard.
McKlain: I didn't scream like a maniac when Charlie took my legs during the fall of Saigon. That's because I was in a mansion taking pictures of the war from a safe distance, just like Al Gore did. My hero. *His face twitches again.*
Tubbs: Hey Mac, I dare you to eat those week old pretzels. *He says with a slight wobble since he is currently drunk.*
Tubbs: There's a $10,000 bill in it for you.
Mac: Oh yeah? Which president is on it?
Tubbs: Um, all of them. They are having a party. Jimmy Carter is passed out on the couch.
Spielbergo: I wouldn't eat those if i were you. They look diseased.
Mac: You got a deal. *He spreads his arm across the bar top reaching for the pretzel while being under the influence.*
*Mac eats a pretzel.*
Mac: Eeeeew! This tastes like grandma!
*Tubbs eats a pretzel.*
Tubbs: You're right, it does taste like grandma. How old is this stuff?
*The bar tender shoves the bowl of old pretzels into the trash can.*
Bartender: What stuff?
Mac: Those pretzels. *He throws the pretzel at McKlain in anger while drunk.*
*John McKlain gives the evil eye as he smacks Mac across the side of the head.*
Mac: Hey, What was that for?
McKlain: You hit me with a pretzel nitwit.
Mac: I'll hit you with something more then just a pretzel. *Drunkingly, he tries to hit McKlain with his right wrist, but misses and spins off of his bar stool.*
McKlain: Ok, that's it. *He says with a slur.*
*McKlain picks up Mac and pushes him into Tubbs knocking him off of his stool.*
Tubbs: Now that was uncalled for! *He says as he points his limp finger towards Mac.*
Mac: Huh? I didn't do anything.
Tubbs: I challenge you to a duel.
*Tubbs slaps Mac with a glove.*
McKlain: *Picks up Mac by his shirt and gets ready to swing at him.*
Stage Manager: All right, everyone freeze!
*All the actors stop right where they are, like time froze. McKlain prepares for his swing, Spielbergo just sits on his stool, and Tubbs stands still.*
