Ken and Kim lock hands again.
KEN: Give up, Kim. You've made me angry, and you know what I'm like when I'm angry. I'm like a runaway train, fueled with rage. Or a charging bull, with goring on the brain. Or a ticking time bomb, except instead of minutes, there's... meanness!
KIM: I'm not afraid of you. I've beaten children scarier than you. And kittens! It's you who should be afraid of me. I'm so mean, I beat children! And kittens!
KEN: And what do you do for an encore, set fire to a pack of nuns?
KIM: You know what the Old Man said about setting fire to nuns.
OLD MAN: Never set fire to nuns.
KIM: Your tactic isn't working, you know. It didn't work then and it won't work now.
KEN: Yeah, like I need tactics to defeat you. You think I know what you're talking about? Well, I don't. Take that!
KIM: You don't remember how when we were kids, we used to fight over the Old Man. You used to say he loved you more, even though you knew it was a lie!
KEN: It was not a lie! Besides, you know what the Old Man used to say about remembering things.
OLD MAN: Nostalgia's for sissies! (Fondly.) My ma used to say that.
Bell rings.
ANNOUNCER: It looks like we're still deadlocked at the close of Round Two, in a match where not much appears to be happening, but it's not boring, not in the slightest! In fact, it's much more exciting than a fight full of action, close calls and shocks because the stillness is just so intense. Still, if the opponents want to ever end this champeenship, preferably tonight, they may want to actually put some muscle into it and really truly, you know, fight. But hey, that's just my opinion, and if you think the people want to just watch you holding hands and yelling at each other a lot, who am I to judge?
Bell rings.
ANNOUNCER: Oh boy! Round Three, the so-called "final round" is about to begin, maybe we'll finally see some what-do-you-call-it, action. I don't know, maybe Kim will move her arm an inch, wouldn't that be a novelty! Maybe next week we can skip the big events and just show paint drying- beige paint! I... (Clears throat.) Yes, sorry, very sorry. Round Three, folks, and what surprises will be in store this round- this final round! Who will win? Who will lose? We shall soon see.
Ken and Kim lock arms once more.
KEN: You're wrong, you know. I was always the Old Man's favorite. You know how I know? He told me himself, take that! He took me fishing when you weren't looking and while we were out on the lake, he confessed I'd always been better than you. I remember exactly what he said to me.
OLD MAN: Son, yer old enough to know yer my favorite son. There ain't no other son in the world I can think of better than you, none I met yet anyway. You'd be the son I never had, had I never had you. Far as male offspring I created, yer the tops. A-number one, Ken, and don't you forget. And one more thing: never ever tell no one about this. This never happened, we never conversated on this. Get me?
KEN: Oops.
KIM: (Laughing.) Oh, it is to laugh. The Old Man really gave you a Grade-A leg-pulling. You think you were the favored child? You best think again. Once, when you were tying your shoes, the Old Man and I snuck up to Duluth for some ice cream, and it was there he revealed who truly meant the most to him. I remember it as if it were about to be repeated verbatim.
OLD MAN: Kim, I'd be lyin' if I said I had a daughter I had more love and respect for. I'd challenge you to find a girl I fathered I'd choose over you, but I ain't into time wastin'. It's why I don't do crosswords or watch the news or yield to oncoming traffic. There's no point to it! There is a point to this, and that's to say yer my favorite daughter in the history of this country. But you have to keep this under yer hat, hear?
KIM: See? Who's the favorite now?
KEN: It's not true! Take it back!
KIM: You take it back!
They really begin struggling now. Ken seems to be winning at first, but then Kim comes out of nowhere to a strong lead. All the while, the Old Man is jumping up and down with excitement.
OLD MAN: That's it! You got 'em! Make yer Old Man proud!
KEN: You bet I will!
KIM: He's talking to me, loser!
KEN: No, he's not! Take that!
OLD MAN: Remember which of you is my favorite.
KEN & KIM: (Unison.) Me!
OLD MAN: That's right.
The struggling stops. Ken and Kim look at the Old Man.
KIM: Wait. Which one are you talking to?
OLD MAN: You heard me. My favorite.
KEN: Which one is that?
OLD MAN: You know... the one I told.
KIM: But you told us both.
KEN: Yeah. Hey, yeah! What is this?
OLD MAN: All right, you got me. But look where it got you. Yer gonna be champeens! You see, in the end, you were both my favorite, but I couldn't let you know, or you wouldn't be the winners you are today. Yer Old Man was teaching you a lifelong lesson, and as a bonus it lasted into the afterlife. In a way, yer both winners.
Ken knocks down Kim's arm.
KEN: But in another way, I win! Take that! Ha ha! I am the champeen!
KIM: No fair! The Old Man distracted me.
Bell rings.
ANNOUNCER: Sweet Joey Christmas, folks, it looks like we finally have a winner! Coming out of nowhere with a lightning move, it's Ken Ott! He's the champeen- the arm-wrestling champeen! Congratulations, Ken!
KIM: Foul, rematch!
OLD MAN: Ken, weren't you listening to my change of heart speech? There's not supposed to be a clear winner today.
KEN: Suck it, Old Man, I'm the champeen. And loser-face over here is still a loser-face.
KIM: I'm gonna rip your teeth out and glue them to a schnauzer! I'm gonna fracture your leg bones with a collection of decorative plates! I'm gonna steal your identity and give it to a slow kid with braces!
OLD MAN: That's the way, Kim! Get angry, and don't forget about what to do with yer anger.
KIM: I'll show you what I'm gonna do with my anger! You ruined me, Old Man! Ruined me!
She begins chasing him offstage.
OLD MAN: Now wait; you wouldn't harm a spirit, would you?
KIM: I've beaten children! And kittens!
Ken follows them off.
KEN: Loser-face, loser-face, bow down to the champeen!
Stage is empty. Pause.
ANNOUNCER: Oh, I see how it is. The fight is over and so everyone thinks it's time to leave. What about me? What am I supposed to announce now? The chairs are... askew? The table stays still. This is crap- bull-crap! You know what? I'm just gonna leave. I am. I'm leaving. (Pause.) Screw this.
Sound of Announcer walking away. Lights.
End!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment