SCREW U.

a play in one act
by

Joe Camhi

CHARACTERS

ADJUNCT - Young man.
ADMINISTRATOR - Older man or woman.
SALLY - Huge woman, dressed like a cross between a diva and a tramp. It’s best if she’s a very masculine transvestite with a very masculine voice.

SETTING
Here.
On the ground there are two huge stacks of papers and one huge stack consisting of textbooks and notebooks. These stacks are points of a triangle large enough for ADJUNCT to lie inside in a fetal position. To the side, there is a big box with the word "WACADEMIA" in big capital letters written across it. The box should be decorated with ivy that can be real, synthetic, painted, or drawn.

TIME
Now.
(We hear Pomp and Circumstance. At the very end of the music, we hear the sound of a gun firing. ADJUNCT is wearing his black cap and gown with the gold hood. On the back is a pair of angel wings. He is lying on the ground in the fetal position in the middle of the huge stack of books and the two huge stacks of papers. We hear an alarm clock ring, and ADJUNCT bursts awake as if from a nightmare. A man in the audience who is wearing a suit starts laughing. He puts a pair of horns on his head like a hat and walks over to ADJUNCT.)

ADJUNCT
Who the hell are you?

ADMINISTRATOR
Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste. I go by many names. Doctor, Boss, Sir, Chairman, Gentleman, Scholar, Dean, Pillar of the Community, Cheap Bastard, but you can call the Administrator.

ADJUNCT
But why are you here? And why the hell did my alarm go off so early? I just finished everything. I wanted to sleep in, rest in peace. My parents came to the ceremony. My mom was crying. My dad held her. They ate cake. They left. I have no more work. I figured I’d sleep in.

ADMINISTRATOR
(Laughs)
Sleep in? It’s time for work.

ADJUNCT
Work?

ADMINISTRATOR
Work.

ADJUNCT
Where?

ADMINISTRATOR
Here.

ADJUNCT
Where’s here?

ADMINISTRATOR
Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Welcome to Purgatory University, Screw U. for short. ADJUNCT
Screw U.?

ADMINISTRATOR
No. Screw U.
(Pause)
Now get up. It’s time for work.

ADJUNCT
Work ...
(Sadly)
... again.
(Adjunct gets up. He notices what he is wearing.)

ADJUNCT
Why am I dressed so funny? Who in their right mind would wear this?
(Examining the hat)
What the heck?

ADMINISTRATOR
Heck? Don’t you wish?

ADJUNCT
So? Am I tenure track?

ADMINISTRATOR
(Laughs)
Tenure track? More like hack track.

ADJUNCT
Hack track? That sounds terrible. Is it like tenure?

ADMINISTRATOR
Sure, just like tenure, and it lasts the whooooole semester.

ADJUNCT
Doesn’t sound like much job security.

ADMINISTRATOR
Well, it’s not much of a job.

ADJUNCT
What!!!

ADMINISTRATOR
I mean it’s a ... temporary job.

ADJUNCT
Temporary?

ADMINISTRATOR
Sure. Temporary. You need to think about your future. Don’t think about your present, that’ll get depressing, believe me. A few semesters at Purgatory, and you’ll get a nice tenure-track job at Paradise U.

ADJUNCT
What do I have to do?

(ADMINISTRATOR dramatically pulls an expensive pen from his pocket. He then walks over to one of the stacks of papers.)

ADMINISTRATOR
First you grade a paper like this.
(ADMINISTRATOR quickly grades the paper.)

ADMINISTRATOR
(Smiling)
See? Easy, huh?
(Walking over to the stack of books)
Then prepare for the lecture like this.
(ADMINISTRATOR picks up a textbook and a notebook. He reads a tiny portion of text and quickly jots something in the notebook.)

ADMINISTRATOR
(Smiles)
See? No trouble at all.
(Walking over to the third stack)
Then you take a curriculum vitae or résumé.

ADJUNCT
Vitae? Don’t I have enough to do?

ADMINISTRATOR
How do you expect to get out of Purgatory?
(Picks up a vitae)
Anyway, you fill it out like this.
(ADMINISTRATOR quickly jots something on the vitae. He shows it to ADJUNCT.)

ADMINISTRATOR
Easy, huh?
(Crumpling it up, and chucking it over his shoulder)
And then you mail it.

ADJUNCT
But you didn’t mail it. You just threw it away.

ADMINISTRATOR
Same thing. What, you went to Harvard?

ADJUNCT
No. But ...

ADMINISTRATOR
Ivy league?

ADJUNCT
No. But ...

ADMINISTRATOR
Where’d you go?

ADJUNCT
Down South at ...

ADMINISTRATOR
(Mocking)
Down South.
(Pause)
Look, the mailman delivers at least three hundred of these vitae every time they advertise a new position. Don’t you think it’s better to cut out the middleman?

ADJUNCT
Well ... uh ...

ADMINISTRATOR
(Overlapping)
Sure it is. Now get to work ... And remember, don’t neglect your girlfriend.

ADJUNCT
(Looks up sadly)
I don’t have a girlfriend.

ADMINISTRATOR
Sure you do.

ADJUNCT
No. She left me. She said I loved my comprehensive exams more than her.

ADMINISTRATOR
Not that girlfriend. I mean your other girlfriend.

ADJUNCT
What other girlfriend?

ADMINISTRATOR
Don’t worry about her now. Get to work.
(ADJUNCT pulls out a cheap pen and starts grading the paper. He is taking more time than the Administrator did.)

ADMINISTRATOR
Hurry!
(ADJUNCT drops the paper and picks up a text and notebook. He starts reading the text and marking in the notebook. He is taking time.)

ADMINISTRATOR
Shift gears
(ADJUNCT rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He quickly jots a few more things in the notebook, drops the books, and goes to the stack of curricula vitae. He fills one out quickly and then goes from stack to stack moving faster and faster, getting and more careless, finally diving desperately at each stack. The stacks are now messy piles.)

ADMINISTRATOR
Time for your lecture.
(At this point ADJUNCT is nervous and disheveled. He grabs a few notebooks and moves away from the piles towards the audience. He quickly fumbles through his notebooks and finds his notes.)

ADJUNCT
William Shakespeare’s Prince Hamlet could not make the decision to kill his step father so ...

ADMINISTRATOR
(Overlapping)
This is your modern American course.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through his notebooks)
... he falls in love with his cow. In contrast, to this bestial love, his relative Fleming Snopes, the main character of William Faulkner’s The Hamlet, marries Eula Varner, for money; she is a woman so sexy she drives her teacher mad with love, and he leaves forever when she rejects him ...

ADMINISTRATOR
(Overlapping)
No. This is your Early American class.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through his notebooks)
… so he’s riding and riding, and he hears the headless horseman right behind him, gaining, and instead of vanishing in a burst of fire and brimstone as they say he always does, the horseman throws his pumpkin head at Ichabod ...

ADMINISTRATOR
(Overlapping)
Your American Renaissance class.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through the notebooks)
… whose chasing the great white whale …

ADMINISTRATOR
I mean African American studies.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through the notebooks)
The great black whale.

ADMINISTRATOR
I mean women’s studies.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through the notebooks)
The great female whale!

ADMINISTRATOR
Sorry, poetry class.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through the notebooks)
Who keeps quothing, "Nevermore"!

ADMINISTRATOR
Modern American Poetry.

ADJUNCT
(Fumbling through his notebooks)
It ends, "Not with a bang but with a whimper."

ADMINISTRATOR
No. I’m sorry, this is one of your many composition classes.
(Adjunct furiously throws his notebooks in the air. Papers fly everywhere.)

ADJUNCT
(Yelling)
How many damned classes am I teaching?

ADMINISTRATOR
What are you worried about? You’re an adjunct. You’re only considered part-time faculty.

ADJUNCT
Part-time? How many classes do full-time faculty teach?

ADMINISTRATOR
Full-time faculty teach about two or three classes.

ADJUNCT
Two or three classes? Then why in the world, in any imaginable scheme, would anyone consider me part-time? In doesn’t make sense.

ADMINISTRATOR
It’s in the faculty handbook. Didn’t you read the faculty handbook?

ADJUNCT
(Trying to hide the fact that he didn’t read it)
Yeah ... uh ... sure.
(Pause)
Well, I can’t wait to get my paycheck.

ADMINISTRATOR
We don’t pay adjuncts for a month. ADJUNCT
Why, in the name of god?

ADMINISTRATOR
Didn’t you read the memo?

ADJUNCT
(Hiding the fact he didn’t read it)
Yeah ... uh ... sure. Anyway, when I finally do get paid, it should be a nice fat check.
(ADMINISTRATOR shakes his head no.)

ADJUNCT
Why no?

ADMINISTRATOR
Pay? How vulgar.

ADJUNCT
(Panicking)
Why vulgar?

ADMINISTRATOR
You think this is all about you, don’t you?
(ADMINISTRATOR stares down ADJUNCT.)

ADMINISTRATOR
Well, it’s not about you. It’s about the students. They need a cheap education, and I have to get paid. It’s the students. Think about those kids. Do it for the children. Now get back to work ... Schmuck.
(ADJUNCT lunges at ADMINISTRATOR, and is now about to punch him.)

ADJUNCT
I’ve worked to hard for my degree for you to call me a schmuck.

ADMINISTRATOR
Dr. Schmuck?

ADJUNCT
(Calming down)
That’s better. I might be underpaid and overworked, but at least I’m a doctor.

ADMINISTRATOR
Riiiiiiiiiight, you should pay us to work here so people will know you’re a doctor.
(ADJUNCT lunges at ADMINISTRATOR, grabs his jacket, and is ready to hit him. Suddenly we hear the song Big Spender. Adjunct stops, baffled by the music.)

ADJUNCT
What the hell is that?

ADMINISTRATOR
That’s your girlfriend.

ADJUNCT
I don’t have a girlfriend.

ADMINISTRATOR
Yes you do.
(Now the music gets much louder. Suddenly SALLY steps out of the audience.)

ADJUNCT
Who the hell is she?

ADMINISTRATOR
She’s your girlfriend Sally May.

ADJUNCT
(Panicking)
Oh my God, get her away from me. SALLY
Oh, yeah? That’s how you treat me now that you got a job? Now that you’re a big-time Ph.D. When you wasn’t working, you were sponging off me. You loved me when I was your sugar mama. You loved me when you were spending my money, free loader. Now you gotta spend your money on me.

ADJUNCT
But I don’t make money.
(Sally reaches into her shirt and pulls out a bunch of papers. She drops them near the other piles. Now there are four messy piles.)

SALLY
Then you better fill out these forms if you want to postpone paying me back. And I’m collecting on the interest. You still owe me for all the nice things I bought you, like food, clothing, and rent. I want diamonds on my fingers, you bum. You used me to get your degree, now I’m gonna use you.
(ADJUNCT starts to frantically fill out the forms. The ADMINISTRATOR takes a stack of books from the box and walks over to ADJUNCT.)

ADMINISTRATOR
And if you want a little more money, I can give you a lot more work. Here’s some more classes you can teach.
(ADMINISTRATOR drops another pile of books on the ground. ADJUNCT lunges at the books and starts taking notes. Sally goes to the box and pulls out another bunch of forms.)

SALLY
(Dropping them on the floor in yet another pile)
Fill these out if you want to consolidate your loans.
(ADJUNCT starts filling out those forms, quickly drops them, and is moving frantically from pile to pile, not spending much time on any one thing. ADMINISTRATOR gets another batch of papers from the box.)

ADMINISTRATOR
(Dropping the papers on the ground)
And don’t forget to check out the job listings. You do want to get out of Purgatory, don’t you?
(ADJUNCT starts going through them circling job listings. SALLY comes over with a stack of papers she got from the box. She drops them and ADJUNCT lunges at them.)

SALLY
And don’t forget your research and writing. Get published, so you get hired, and I get paid.

ADMINISTRATOR
(Holding another stack of papers he just got from the box)
And don’t forget the conferences. Don’t you want a nice job?
(Dropping them on the ground)
Here are the forms.
(ADJUNCT dives for a form and starts filling it out. However, he quickly drops it and starts going from pile to pile. While he is in his pile-to-pile hell, SALLY and ADMINISTRATOR start walking away arm in arm. Suddenly, ADMINISTRATOR realizes he forgot something. He walks back over to ADJUNCT. ADMINISTRATOR pulls something from his pocket.)

ADMINISTRATOR
(Tossing the pack of dental floss to ADJUNCT)
Don’t forget to floss.
(ADJUNCT tries to floss his teeth in a panic. He gets his fingers entangled, and soon starts moving frantically from pile to pile again. Meanwhile, ADMINISTRATOR walks back over to SALLY, and they walk away arm in arm.)

Joe Camhi <<joe_camhi@hotmail.com>>