The cell is small. The gentleman dressed in top hat and tails asks the jailer to turn the key. He steps in and asks the prisoner if he has a last request. The prisoner starts to drop his pants. The gentleman grasps his hand and says, “Anything but that now. Anyway, it’s time to go.” The prisoner follows the gentleman out of the cell and down a corridor lined with bars. When they reach the end of the corridor, two heavily armed guards step forward, click their heels and stop. The gentleman asks the prisoner if he is ready. “Do I have a choice?” the prisoner asks. The gentleman orders one of the guards to open the door. The gentleman looks at the prisoner and says, “It’s up to you.” Then he bursts into insane laughter and pushes the prisoner inside. With a loud, echoing crash, the door slams shut behind the prisoner. There is no light in the room except for a bulb hanging from the ceiling, shining on a bed in the far corner of the room. The prisoner walks up to the bed and stops. There he sees an old man lying on the bed, his head is to the side with his mouth open, vomit dripping onto the soiled wool blanket. The old man is fully clothed except for his pants which are pulled down below his buttocks. Repulsed, the prisoner steps back into the shadows. The smell of the vomit and unwashed skin permeates the air. Wedged between the old man’s buttocks are two slices of bread with a strange red, bleeding meat shoved between his wrinkled cheeks. A voice on a loudspeaker says, “Yes, you have a choice. Eat! Eat! Eat! And you go free.” Pleasant dinner music plays over the loudspeaker. The prisoner looks at the light, then at the blood drenched sandwich. The music grows louder. “Eat! eat!” the voice proclaims. The prisoner slowly reaches for the sandwich and then stops. He holds his stomach for a moment and then puts his hand on the bread. Suddenly, pain rips through his flesh as a blade severs his hand from his arm. Blood splashes onto the old man. The prisoner’s eyes roll backwards into his head. His mouth widens to reveal gnarled teeth. He screams. The lights come on. The prisoner turns holding his bloody stub which now resembles a geyser. The audience of men and women clad in white sit silently. Staring. The prisoner’s knees buckle as he falls to the floor. Eyes wide open. Two men clad in white come in with a stretcher and carry him off. The lights grow dim. Dark.
© 2011 Glass Onion Productions
