KNOCK KNOCK

I remember I wrote a piece for the stage. It was kind of a Beckett meets Sapphire and Steel thing. You know, a few laughs for the existentially bewildered. I called my play ‘Knock Knock’. Here’s the entire thing:

A Man and a Woman sit on a park bench on a lunar surface. The Man is engrossed in a paperback novelisation of the Clint Eastwood film In the Line of Fire. The Woman fidgets with a mischievous look on her face. She nudges the Man in the ribs with her elbow.
Woman: Knock knock.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: No. You’re meant to say ‘Who’s there?’
Man: Who’s there?
Woman: Yes.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: No. Let me start again. Knock knock.
Man: Who’s there?
Woman: Doctor.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: No. You are meant to say ‘Doctor who?’
Man: Doctor who?
Woman: Yes.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: No. Let me start again. Knock knock.
Man: Who’s there?
Woman: Doctor.
Man: Doctor who?
Woman: How did you know?
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: No. It’s a joke.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: You are being impossible.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: You are always like this after a few brandies.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: I am leaving you.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: I’m taking the children.
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: (says nothing)
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: Knock knock.
Man: Who’s there?
Woman: Fuck off.
Man: How dare you?
Woman: How dare you who?
Man: How did you know?
(Lengthy pause of about one hour and a quarter)
Woman: How long have we been here?
Man: Forever.
Woman: Is this our purpose?
Man: Fuck off.
Woman: Knock knock.

At that point the play meets itself coming back and the actors take it from the top. The whole thing repeats over and over again until the audience is gripped by insanity or the theatre building collapses. The show started playing in town many years ago. It’s still going today. It's the same performance in fact. The very first one, still repeating. Needless to say, I didn’t go and see it myself. If I did I’d be there now and I’m not.
I’m right here.
Knock knock.