The Stiff

a farce in one act

by Charles Deemer

 

THE CAST (4M, 2W):

President John Jones, the leader of the people

Mrs. Eunice Jones, his wife

Chi Chi, his mistress

Neck, the mortician

Charles, his assistant

Dr. Alberts, the doctor

 

THE TIME:

Any time

 

THE PLACE:

A back room in the Public Hall in a foreign country.

 

THE SET:

Upstage center is a table on which is a casket. A window, upstage left, looks out upon the square. Entrance into the room is stage right. Modest furnishings: this is the room in which the corpses of public figures are kept before being put on display to the people.


 

(AT RISE: DR. ALBERTS has his back to the audience, inspecting a body in the casket. Waiting expectantly are MRS. JONES, NECK and CHARLES. Mrs. Jones, who is in mourning, is dressed in black. She holds a black lace handkerchief over her sobs. The doctor turns and moves away from the casket.)

 

NECK: Well, doctor?

DR. ALBERTS: Your suspicions are correct. I find the organ to be tumescent.

 

(Mrs. Jones breaks into tears.)

 

CHARLES: Please, Mrs. Jones.

MRS. JONES: (struggling) It's sca— ... scan— ... it's scanda—

CHARLES: Now, now.

NECK: Perhaps you could give her something.

DR. ALBERTS: Comes, Mrs. Jones. You must try to relax.

 

(The doctor and Mrs. Jones start out.)

 

NECK: Thank you, doctor.

DR. ALBERTS: I feel I should be the one thanking you. In my long career I've never seen anything like this before.

MRS. JONES: (sobbing) It's scandalous ...

DR. ALBERTS: Come with me. I'll administer a sedative.

 

(The doctor escorts her off.)

 

CHARLES: What do we do now?

NECK: I'm not sure.

CHARLES: You could display only half the body. The upper half.

NECK: And compromise my reputation? I didn't get where I am by displaying only half the body. People expect a full deck.

CHARLES: They've been waiting out there for hours. The lines are —

NECK: I know how long the lines are. Let them wait. We can't display the body as it is.

CHARLES: Of course not.

NECK: We've got to get rid of it.

CHARLES: Perhaps if ...

NECK: If what?

CHARLES: If we dismembered ... it was just a thought.

NECK: I do not mutilate bodies. The entire body will be viewed intact or not at all. I have my reputation to think of.

CHARLES: It was just a suggestion.

 

(A pause.)

 

CHARLES: Perhaps it will go away.

NECK: Perhaps.

CHARLES: We can wait and hope. We can pray.

NECK: Yes, we can pray.

 

(They pray. Then they approach the casket and look at the body.)

 

NECK: No luck.

CHARLES: They must be getting impatient out there. The lines started forming as soon as his death was announced.

NECK: I know, I know.

CHARLES: He certainly is popular. Even dead. I suppose because he was so average. According to the polls, there was never a more average man.

NECK: We have to think of something.

CHARLES: At least Mrs. Jones noticed the problem before the doors were opened. If the people had been let in before anyone noticed ...

NECK: If you want to thank Mrs. Jones, send her flowers.

CHARLES: I'm sorry.

NECK: We have to think of something.

CHARLES: Yes.

NECK: I must have done something wrong.

CHARLES: Do you think so?

NECK: Perhaps I was nervous without knowing it. I've never prepared a President before. Something inconsequential could have slipped my notice, and consequently have become — consequential. If I had somehow erred in draining all the blood, for example. Perhaps such an error would explain it.

CHARLES: That might be an explanation.

NECK: On the other hand, the blood measured five point three quarts, which is average.

CHARLES: Then that must not be it.

NECK: Perhaps it has even happened before. I'm much too busy to read all of the literature. New findings are always popping up. A premature ossification, for example. I've heard rumors of such a thing.

CHARLES: That might be an explanation.

NECK: On the other hand, then one would presume that the organ would ossify in its normal state.

CHARLES: Then that must not be it.

NECK: Unless, of course, he died while the organ was ...?

CHARLES: You don't think he died like that?

NECK: Suppose he did. Followed by premature ossification ...

CHARLES: Sounds unlikely to me.

NECK: There's one way to find out. I'll question his wife.

CHARLES: About that?

NECK: It's a delicate matter, I know. But we must find out. It could be the explanation. Get Mrs. Jones.

CHARLES: But the doctor was going to give her a sedative. She'll be resting.

NECK: A sedative will make the matter less delicate. Get Mrs. Jones.

CHARLES: Yes, sir.

 

(Charles exits. Neck moves to stare at the body. Mrs. Jones and Charles enter.)

 

MRS. JONES: You wanted to see me?

NECK: Yes, ma'am. Please sit down.

MRS. JONES: The doctor suggested I nap until the matter is settled.

NECK: This will only take a minute. Charles, perhaps you would leave us alone.

CHARLES: Of course.

 

(He exits.)

 

NECK: Madam, I don't want you to think that I'm being overly personal. But this matter is highly unusual, as you know. I have never seen anything like it in all my years as Public Mortician. Nor has Dr. Alberts seen anything like it, as you heard for yourself. So the explanation, which we must find before correcting the difficulty, is likely to come from unexpected directions. Therefore, we must follow every clue. However delicate.

MRS. JONES: What is it you want to know? I'll help in any way I can.

NECK: Very good. You are standing up admirably.

MRS. JONES: Please be quick. I'm very tired.

NECK: Certainly. Mrs. Jones, were you near your husband when he died?

MRS. JONES: Yes.

NECK: How near?

MRS. JONES: Pardon me?

NECK: Did he die, by chance, in bed?

MRS. JONES: Yes. How did you know?

NECK: A wild guess. Now madam, this will seem to be none of my business, but there is something else I must ask you.

MRS. JONES: Simply ask it.

NECK: When your husband was in bed, just before he died ... were you by chance ... making love?

 

(Mrs. Jones breaks into tears.)

 

NECK: I know the matter is very personal, madam. But it might be the clue we need. If you were making love, you see, and if he died with ... the way he is now, madam ... and if premature ossification occurred, which is not unheard of ... then, you see ...

MRS. JONES: We haven't made love in ten years.

NECK: Oh.

MRS. JONES: We've had separate bedrooms for fifteen.

NECK: I see.

MRS. JONES: I tried to get him interested. God knows, I tried. But always without success. Always without ... that happening. And now for him to respond while dead ... is God so cruel?

NECK: Take your nap, Mrs. Jones. You've been helpful.

MRS. JONES: How can we show the body?

NECK: We'll think of something.

 

(Mrs. Jones exits. Charles enters.)

 

CHARLES: Well?

NECK: They haven't slept together in years. As far as she's concerned, he was impotent.

CHARLES: Without meaning to sound crude, sir, if that's impotence, many a man would embrace it.

 

(Dr. Alberts enters.)

 

DR. ALBERTS: What did you say to her? She's more upset than ever.

NECK: We're trying to find out the cause of this, doctor.

DR. ALBERTS: Yes, I can see why you'd want to.

NECK: Perhaps you have an explanation.

DR. ALBERTS: If I did, it would revolutionize medical theory.

NECK: We have to get rid of it before we show the body.

DR. ALBERTS: I suppose you do.

NECK: Not only would it be highly irregular to show him like this, I would be held personally accountable for an utter disregard of decorum. The people would eat me alive.

DR. ALBERTS: Perhaps you exaggerate.

NECK: Never under-estimate the seriousness of a breach of decorum.

DR. ALBERTS: I wish I could be of more assistance. Unfortunately, the reproductive system is not my area of specialty. And I do have to get back to the hospital.

NECK: We appreciate your coming. A second opinion is always useful in a case like this.

DR. ALBERTS: I can report without qualification that the corpse has an erection.

NECK: Thank you very much, Dr. Alberts.

DR. ALBERTS: Glad to be of help. Oh yes — Mrs. Jones is resting in the lounge.

 

(He exits.)

 

CHARLES: What do we do now?

NECK: We think of something.

 

(Charles goes to the window.)

 

CHARLES: They don't look very patient to me.

NECK: I can well imagine.

CHARLES: You don't have to imagine — you can come see for yourself.

NECK: I prefer to imagine!

 

(A pause.)

 

CHARLES: Perhaps if ... ?

NECK: Well? If what?

CHARLES: We covered it with flowers.

NECK: I have never heard of displaying flowers in the crotch.

CHARLES: But it would cover it up.

NECK: Only as a last resort. Flowers in such a place would be too irregular. What would the reviewers think?

CHARLES: It was just a suggestion.

NECK: On the other hand, if we folded his hands over it ...

CHARLES: I don't think so, sir. Without meaning to sound crude, if I saw such a thing, I'd think he had been playing with himself.

NECK: But you think flowers would work? I wonder.

 

(Chi Chi enters, dressed as a nun.)

 

NECK: May I help you?

CHI CHI: Is that him?

NECK: If you mean the body of the President, it is. The services will begin directly, sister. Please wait in the auditorium.

CHI CHI: Oh. I'm ... Miss Jones. His sister.

NECK: I didn't realize.

 

(She starts toward the casket but is intercepted by Charles.)

 

CHARLES: Maybe you shouldn't look just yet.

NECK: The viewing comes later, Sister Jones.

CHI CHI: But I want to look now.

NECK: If you looked now, consider how anticlimactic the formal viewing would be. All that inspiring oratory for nothing. We'll be starting very soon — please.

CHI CHI: Oh, all right. But I wish you'd hurry.

 

(She exits.)

 

CHARLES: I didn't know he had a sister.

NECK: Nor did I.

CHARLES: Do you smell something?

NECK: Sweet?

CHARLES: Sort of.

NECK: I can't put my finger on it.

CHARLES: Did she strike you as peculiar?

NECK: Not as peculiar as our friend. Our responsibility, I'm sorry to say.

 

(Mrs. Jones enters.)

 

MRS. JONES: Did the nun perform the rites already?

NECK: No, ma'am.

MRS. JONES: Where's Dr. Alberts?

NECK: He returned to the hospital. You shouldn't be up, madam.

MRS. JONES: I was lying down in the lounge when I felt as if someone was staring at me. When I opened my eyes, the doctor was there. Then he vanished. I thought perhaps he wanted to see me about something. Or was it all my imagination?

NECK: Your imagination, I think.

MRS. JONES: I can't sleep.

NECK: It would be difficult, yes.

MRS. JONES: But I do feel better. I'm very much in control of myself now.

NECK: I'm pleased to hear that.

MRS. JONES: I've even found an amusing side to everything. This is exactly something John would do. He was always trying to be different. I suppose because he was so average. Lately he had taken to fads. Mysticism. Meditation. Trying to control his heartbeat with his mind.

NECK: Trying to control his heartbeat?

MRS. JONES: Mind over matter, and all that. He would get in this ridiculous position, what do you call it? With his legs crossed, the way they do in the East. Japan, I suppose it is. He had taken to talking about Japan in his sleep.

NECK: You heard him?

MRS. JONES: Now and then, when I would stop by his bedroom to see if ... yes, sometimes I'd catch him talking about Japan in his sleep. His next vacation, perhaps. I take it everyone sits cross-legged over there, with blank expressions on their faces. He would sit that way for hours and not say a word, hardly seeming to breathe. He claimed it improved his circulation.

NECK: Mrs. Jones, we've thought of a way to display the body.

MRS. JONES: You can get rid of it?

NECK: We can hide it. We can cover it up with an arrangement of flowers.

MRS. JONES: Flowers? There?

NECK: Yes. Especially if you publicly arrange them yourself. The people would regard it as erotic tenderness. They'd grant you a certain flair for intimacy. They would love you for it. And then they would pass by the body and see only the flowers, nothing else.

MRS. JONES: You know how that must hurt me.

NECK: I'm sorry, madam. This is no time for delicacy.

MRS. JONES: If there's no other way ...

NECK: There's no other way.

MRS. JONES: Then it must be done.

NECK: Bravo, madam. Come. You have bouquets without end to choose from. The people have mourned your loss with an unprecedented run on floral shops. You pick the flowers, and Charles and I will do the rest.

 

(They all exit. A beat.)

 

(In the casket, Jones sits up and looks around. He wiggles a bit, stretching, getting comfortable. Hearing someone, he gets back down.)

 

(Chi Chi enters and approaches the casket.)

 

CHI CHI: (seeing his erection) Boopy, shame on you!

 

(She giggles. Jones sits up.)

 

JONES: What are you doing here?

CHI CHI: I wanted to see how you look as a corpse. And really, boopy.

JONES: Nothing's going as planned.

CHI CHI: I can see that.

JONES: I couldn't help it. I keep thinking about you.

 

(He grabs for her.)

 

CHI CHI: Hands off. You're supposed to be dead.

JONES: Lock the door. It will solve everyone's problem.

CHI CHI: You're supposed to be on display.

JONES: They refused to show me like this.

 

(Chi Chi giggles.)

 

JONES: It isn't funny.

CHI CHI: I think it's cute.

 

(Dr. Alberts enters. Hearing him, Jones starts to get back down in the casket, then sees who it is.)

 

DR. ALBERTS: It's only me. (To Chi Chi) What are you doing here in that ridiculous outfit?

CHI CHI: I wanted to see how he looked as a corpse. No one stops a nun from going where she pleases.

DR. ALBERTS: You haven't helped matters, Mr. President.

JONES: I tried my best.

CHI CHI: He couldn't take his nasty mind off me.

DR. ALBERTS: They're getting flowers. This plan is to ... of course, you already know about that. You were here.

CHI CHI: I don't know.

DR. ALBERTS: You shouldn't be here in the first place.

JONES: Leave her alone. There's nothing to be done about it now.

DR. ALBERTS: You and your powers of meditation. I thought you could control your bodily processes. You're lucky another doctor didn't get the case and pronounce you alive.

JONES: My blood pressure would have fooled them.

DR. ALBERTS: Your erection wouldn't!

CHI CHI: You really should be ashamed of yourself, boopy. Having those thoughts in a coffin ... I'm not sure I appreciate that.

DR. ALBERTS: Get back down before they come in with the flowers.

CHI CHI: What are the flowers for?

JONES: They're hiding my problem with a bouquet.

CHI CHI: How darling!

DR. ALBERTS: Get down! (Jones does) And you get out of here. We don't have all —

 

(Neck and Charles enter with a large bouquet of mums.)

 

NECK: Doctor, Sister Jones. Is something the matter?

DR. ALBERTS: Not at all.

NECK: I thought you had to return to the hospital.

DR. ALBERTS: I phoned in. They don't need me, so I thought I might be of use here.

CHARLES: We solved the problem.

DR. ALBERTS: Mrs. Jones told me. I ran into her in the lounge. I congratulate you.

CHARLES: My idea.

DR. ALBERTS: I think it will work.

NECK: I'm sorry you had to be exposed to this, sister. It is highly irregular, I assure you.

CHI CHI: I think it's a cute idea.

NECK: You do?

DR. ALBERTS: (to get Chi Chi out) We'll leave you to your business ...

CHI CHI: Only I think roses would be more romantic.

 

(The doctor exits, getting Chi Chi out of there.)

 

CHARLES: She's right.

NECK: Be grateful we talked her out of skunkweed.

CHARLES: It's remarkable, isn't it?

NECK: What?

CHARLES: The whole idea of it. I mean, one doesn't think of such a thing happening to the President. At least, I never have. As average as he was, I still put him up on a pedestal. Can you imagine the President going to the john with the Sunday paper on the morning after? Imagine having to use the toilet next and having the place stink to high heaven — by the President! He always seemed above all that. Even though I knew he was average.

NECK: If you ask me, he's one of a kind. Let's give him the flowers and move him out.

CHARLES: I can't imagine him being impotent. It must have just happened with his wife.

NECK: The flowers.

 

(Charles approaches the casket with the bouquet.)

 

CHARLES: Well, old sport, we have to hide you from the public.

 

(He playfully flicks the hidden erection with an index finger and Jones immediately sits up, grabbing his crotch in pain.)

 

JONES: AARGH!

CHARLES: Be Jesus!

NECK: Mister President!

CHARLES: (falling to his knees) Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done —

JONES: Stop that! I've not risen from the dead. I'm quite alive.

NECK: I was led to believe ... I myself prepared the body ...

JONES: It wasn't me.

NECK: I would have sworn it was.

JONES: That's only because I'm so average I look like anyone else. How do you suppose I got elected President? Everyone thought they were voting for themselves.

CHARLES: I always said you were a regular chap.

JONES: Too regular.

NECK: But the lines outside, Mr. President. Dr. Alberts pronounced you dead. It was in the papers. The public is waiting outside to view the body.

JONES: Don't worry, they'll get to see the body. Just give me a minute. Why on earth did you do that?

CHARLES: I'm sorry, I did it without thinking. I was overcome that even the President, even the corpse of the President —

NECK: Imbecile!

JONES: It doesn't matter now. Only, gentlemen, I'm afraid you're going to have to be sworn to secrecy about this.

NECK: I'm a man of ethics, Mr. President.

JONES: How much?

NECK: Half a million.

JONES: Split between the two of you. No bargaining. Remember, I'm still Commander-in-Chief.

NECK: (to Charles) Seventy-thirty.

CHARLES: Forty-sixty.

NECK: Sold.

JONES: Dr. Alberts will make the arrangements.

NECK: He also knows?

JONES: He's in love with my wife. He expects to marry her. Unfortunately, he's not her type. But he won't know that til I'm long gone.

NECK: The matter appears to be very complicated.

JONES: All you have to know is that I'm dead. Now put those flowers on me and ...

CHARLES: It's gone, Mr. President.

NECK: It must have been the blow.

JONES: Do we still need the flowers?

NECK: I'm not sure. Your wife —

JONES: Please — the widow Jones.

NECK: She will be expecting flowers.

JONES: Then we'll have flowers. Let's get moving, the people have been waiting for me long enough.

NECK: There was nothing we could do, Mr. President.

JONES: I'm not blaming you.

DR. ALBERTS: (off stage) It's the wife's prerogative to choose the flowers!

CHARLES: Someone's coming!

 

(Jones gets down in the casket. Chi Chi enters, carrying a bouquet of roses, followed by Dr. Alberts.)

 

CHI CHI: The President deserves the best. Roses.

DR. ALBERTS: You are being difficult.

NECK: Doctor? Sister Jones?

CHI CHI: Use these.

DR. ALBERTS: Mrs. Jones would not approve.

JONES: (sitting up) Chi Chi, what is it now?

NECK: Chi Chi?

CHI CHI: I'm not going to let you have less than roses. Especially down there. It's gone!

DR. ALBERTS: I've had enough of your go-go dancer, Jones. It was quite satisfactory to go along with this so you could run off to Japan with her, but when she begins getting in the way, ruining our cover, that's another matter entirely. I pronounced you dead. My reputation is at stake.

JONES: Chi Chi, please. Let the Widow Jones have her way. She's in mourning.

DR. ALBERTS: You'd better straighten this out, and quickly. The people won't put up with waiting out there much longer. They'll be storming the hall.

 

(He exits.)

 

NECK: Can he be trusted?

JONES: Of course. If I'm not dead, my wife is not a widow. Let's dispense with the flowers and get moving.

CHI CHI: But flowers is a darling idea. It just should be roses.

 

(The doctor hurries in.)

 

DR. ALBERTS: Your wife is coming!

JONES: Please. The Widow Jones.

 

(He gets down. Mrs. Jones enters with a bouquet of skunkweed.)

 

MRS. JONES: Are we ready?

NECK: We found a way to correct the matter after all, madam, and flowers won't be necessary.

MRS. JONES: But I want flowers. I want these.

NECK: Skunkweed, madam?

MRS. JONES: I've changed my mind about mums. They suggest mummies.

DR. ALBERTS: But skunkweed is hardly appropriate.

MRS. JONES: On the contrary. Where did the roses come from?

DR. ALBERTS: The sister was paying her respects.

MRS. JONES: Is it the roses I smell?

CHI CHI: It's called Burning Desire. You like it?

MRS. JONES: Who are you?

CHI CHI: Oh. His sister.

DR. ALBERTS: She means the Lord's sister, of course. I believe it's time to open the doors ...

MRS. JONES: I want a moment alone with my husband.

NECK: We are pressed for time, madam.

MRS. JONES: I won't be long. I have that small right, don't I?

NECK: Of course.

MRS. JONES: (to Chi Chi) Perhaps you would stay.

DR. ALBERTS: I'm sure the sister has urgent business elsewhere.

MRS. JONES: I would find it comforting if she stayed for just a moment.

CHI CHI: Okay.

NECK: Please be quick, madam. The people have been waiting for so long to pay their respects.

 

(All exit but the women and Jones down in the casket.)

 

MRS. JONES: I feel I must make a confession.

CHI CHI: Sure.

MRS. JONES: Are you really wearing perfume? I didn't think it was allowed.

CHI CHI: Oh. Well, only on special occasions. I mean, since he was President and all. What is it you want to confess about?

MRS. JONES: I have been unfaithful to my husband.

CHI CHI: Really?

MRS. JONES: Many times.

CHI CHI: I guess only the first time's the rough one.

MRS. JONES: Sometimes in this very room.

CHI CHI: Far out.

MRS. JONES: With Charles, the mortician's assistant. We've been seeing each other for years. In this very room.

CHI CHI: Sounds pretty kinky. Were dead bodies in here?

MRS. JONES: (ignoring this) I want to be alone with my husband now.

CHI CHI: What for?

MRS. JONES: To pray, of course.

CHI CHI: Oh. Well, sure. But I think they're in a hurry.

 

(She exits. Mrs. Jones speaks to the casket.)

 

MRS. JONES: And so we are alone at last, my darling. Do you know how long it's been? How long I've had to share you — first with them, the people, your constituency? Who elected you because you are so average. And later sharing you with your fads, your beloved meditations and mysticisms. And all along I still loved you. Charles is nothing. Charles is itching a scratch. I still love you, and this is why I must kill you. Even though you're already dead, I must kill you. For once, you must not get the last word. The coda will belong to me.

 

(She removes a knife from her person and approaches the casket.)

 

MRS. JONES: You'll never know I'm doing this. But I'll know. God, if he cares, will know. The final rejection belongs to me.

 

(She raises the knife and looks down at the body. Dr. Alberts enters.)

 

MRS. JONES: You've lost your erection!

DR. ALBERTS: Eunice, don't!

 

(The knife starts down as Jones grabs her hand. There is a struggle and the doctor joins in. Breaking free, Mrs. Jones thrusts wildly and stabs the doctor. He falls. Mrs. Jones thinks she has stabbed her husband.)

 

MRS. JONES: John, forgive me! Forgive me!

 

(Neck, Charles and Chi Chi enter.)

 

NECK: What happened?

MRS. JONES: I murdered my husb –

 

(She sees Jones sitting up, quite alive.)

 

JONES: Hello, Eunice.

MRS. JONES: But I thought —

JONES: Dr. Alberts looks dead to me.

NECK: The doors have been opened! The people expect oratory and a view of the body!

JONES: Then let's put the doctor in the casket.

NECK: It won't work, Mr. President. They expect you.

JONES: But who am I? The man who the polls called more average than anyone. Help me with the body.

NECK: There's too much blood. It will compromise my reputation.

JONES: We'll cover him with flowers. Everywhere but the face. They'll want to see the face.

NECK: Your face.

JONES: An average face. One is as good as another.

NECK: But what about you?

JONES: I am dead. This is my body.

NECK: But our arrangement ... ?

 

(Jones begins to scribble a note.)

 

CHARLES: What about my forty percent?

JONES: I'll give you something for the bank.

CHI CHI: Is it still to Japan, boopy?

MRS. JONES: Boopy? You and my husband? With a nun, John?

JONES: She dances. I'm sorry, Eunice. I tried to make it as painless as possible.

CHI CHI: He kept thinking about me in the coffin. You think you're kinky.

MRS. JONES: I would call it something else.

JONES: (handing the note) Take this to the bank.

NECK: Very good, Mr. President.

JONES: Come on, Chi Chi.

MRS. JONES: Chi Chi?

CHI CHI: Sayonara!

 

(Jones and Chi Chi exit.)

 

NECK: Well, Charles, let's give the people their body.

CHARLES: I hope they don't notice the difference.

NECK: Perhaps we should cover the face as well. Just to be on the safe side. The eyes should suffice. Easy now ...

 

(The doctor is put into the casket.)

 

MRS. JONES: Charles?

CHARLES: Yes, ma'am?

 

(They regard one another. A beat.)

 

CHARLES: Do you want me to come back?

MRS. JONES: No. We can come back later. First I must make my appearance. I must show my grief.

NECK: The people would expect grief, madam.

MRS. JONES: What the people expect, they deserve. What they deserve, they get. Always.

 

(All exit and BLACKOUT.)