It’s hard to believe the sea-
Season Two:
SpeechGeek
Season Two: Winter 2005
ISSN 1545-9209 Price $25 US
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son is closing in on the half-
Winter 2005
SpeechGeek
ISSN 1545-9209
Corey Alderdice
Editor and Publisher
Stephanie Patterson
Publications Manager
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way point. I mean, with all
the practicing and compet-
ing, who really has time for
class, homework, projects,
and all that other “school
related stuff”? Of course,
it’s easy to forget that fo-
rensics is a co-curricular ac-
tivity with an emphasis both
in and out of the classroom.
For some forensicators, it’s
really, really easy to forget
that the classroom experi-
ence is just as (if not more
valuable) than what goes
on in competition rounds.
The Geek encourages you
to remember why we do this
activity: to encourage stu-
dents to develop valuable
life skills and gain self-confi-
dence. Trophies are great,
but not everything. It’s al-
ways good to have a re-
fresher course in Forensics
101. Keep up the hard work
this season--we hope to see
you in Philly!
Corey Alderdice
Editor
 In This Issue:
Season Two: Winter 2005
SpeechGeek Gear

Humorous Interpretation
The Ultimate Drama
by Carrie Taylor and Katie Garlock............................04

Poetry Interpretation
In All Directions
by Nancy Harper...........................................................08

Duo Interpretation (Male / Female)

With A Kiss
by Trevor Anders............................................................13 SpeechGeek is not only your best
source for quality forensics
performance material. Check out
Duo Interpretation (Male / Male) our selection of awesome
Philadelphos SpeechGeek gear. With more
by Odell Workman.........................................................16
than ten designs available, there’s
a shirt for every SpeechGeek out
there. Visit SpeechGeek.com to
Prose Interpretation place an order. Do it now!
Through These Gates
by Corey Alderdice.......................................................18
 denly, there came a knock at the door. (Flashback sequence)

The Ultimate Drama

2. (as German officer) Knock knock! Let me in!
1. (Flashback Berta) Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!
2. Let me in or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.
by Garlock and Taylor 1. The next thing I knew, I was on a train, headed for the heart of
Germany. When we got there, my husband and I were separated. We
2. (autistic) Brother Mikey! (realizes “Brother Mikey isn’t there, becomes
were told to work.
more frantic) Brother Mikey! Brother Mikey! Brother Mikey! (Brother
2. Work!
Mikey enters, “Brucey” becomes upset and less frantic) I called you, I
1. Those who didn’t work would be shot...
called you!
2. Those who do not work will be shot.
1. (concerned) Brucey, you okay? What’s the matter?
1. After a few days, I had noticed that officer Schfinctinhaur had taken
2. I called you, I called you...
an unusual interest in me. I feared for my life. You can imagine my terror
1. I didn’t hear you, Brucey, I didn’t hear you, (frustrated) I said I didn’t
when he caught me alone one night...
hear you! I’ve had it!
2. Mmmm Hmmmm Hmmm! Why 36-24-36. What a pleasant surprise.
BOTH. (pause in a frozen position then turn to audience) (hum Mentos
Come with me!
theme)
1. He led me into his quarters, I had no idea what was happening. (both
1. Mentos. For when your brother just won’t leave you alone, here’s one
characters face back and say, “bow chicka wow wow!” Then
way to keep cool.
Character 1, or “Berta” turns back around.)
2. Mentos. The Freshmaker. (both do thumbs up & smile)
1. A month later I, I found out that I, I was pregnant. Don’t get me wrong,
I still loved my baby, it was still my baby. The problem was, hiding it.
1 begins to present to “group” while 2 is distracted by various things. Both as new Months passed and, needless to say, they noticed. I prayed and
prayed for help which turns out is only a phone call away.
characters.
1. Hi.... I... I’m Alice. Thanks for letting me come here. I just needed to talk, Character 2 turns around.
and I guess AA isn’t a bad start. You see, I just got home from a concen-
tration camp where they just don’t have the kind of group treatment 2. (some sort of “technician”) Hi.
you’d like for alcoholism. Or the alcohol. Anyhow, now that I’m back in 1. Who are you? (2 hands 1 a business card.) Abortions R Us?
the states and...Hey, aren’t you supposed to be listening? 2. Quick and Easy for the Sleazy
2. (snaps to attention) I’m terribly sorry, I have a mental disorder. 1. (disgusted) That’s terrible!
1. Which one? 2. I know, we’re working on a new slogan. Anyway, now I know that
2. ADD. button is around here somewhere…(begins searching for a “button”
1. Mentos? originally the intention was a belly button) oh there it is! [pushes
2. No thanks- (looks out a “window”) OOH! Birdie! (moves to follow bird button on stomach and pulls baby out.) Bye bye now. (turns around
then character two acts as a bird while character 1 turns into a and drops hands to sides)
person driving a car which hits the bird.) 1. You just dropped my baby!
2. Oh no, see I was ending the scene…
Flash to 2 as bird getting hit by 1 driving a car. 1. No, you dropped my baby on the ground!
2. Oh sorry, let me clean that up for you. Oh, sorry. (picks up fetus)
1. (looking out windshield as he drives the car) What the..? 1. (fetus) Fetus! Hi…(giggle)
2. (child in the backseat) Hey mister, what was that?? 2. Hey, do you wanna play a game?
1. Shut up kid! I gave you your candy, now be a good little abductee. 1. (fetus) Uh-huh.
2. Okay! (eats candy) 2. Okay (throws into air, pulls out shot gun and shoots fetus)
1. And stop twitching 1. (fetus) Fetus…..Sploosh.
2. Sorry... I have schizophrenia. And ADD! 1. (Pops back to patient Berta) Sorry, where were we??
1. You’re damaged? Now I’ll never get that billion-dollar ransom. That’s 2. (Doctor) I’m sorry, I have Alzheimer’s, OCD, schizophrenia, and
it, get out! ADD…do you hear that?
2. Ohhh....(steps out of car then sees a cat) Hey look at that!
BOTH. (as a cat) MEOW. BOTH make the “Charge” theme.
1. (as patient Berta, sitting in an office with her therapist) Was that the
sound of a kitty? Ay me. I remember kitties from my old country.
2. (as therapist taking notes/ interviewing) Tell me about your daugh- 1. (as baseball announcer) Kawabata is one away from a perfect
ters. game.
1. Well Greta was anorexic and Hannah, we feared, was bulimic. 2. (as baseball announcer) Kawabata set up, delivered and - ! Home
Sylvia.... run.
2. Sylvia? What was she like? 1. Which is followed by a single, which was followed by a triple.
1. Well… something like this:(spin to Sylvia character) Hello. Talent… I 2. Kawabata left the game.
have none. (spin back to patient Berta) She had OCD. With schizo- 1. And for the first time since his suspension, Shane Munget is in. Shane
phrenia. And ADD. Anyhow, we were all sitting together when sud- seems intense on the mound.

4 5
2. Batter up is Davey Battle. brother Mikey.
1. He throws his first pitch. 1. Brucey, that’s it (steps back) I can’t handle this.
2. It hit Davey! Davey is down.
2. (vendor with back to audience) Popcorn! Peanuts! Get your… Conclude singing Mentos theme song.
1. (fan) Hey, I’ll have some popcorn. [Popcorn is thrown by vendor who
spins around to become another fan who is hit by peanuts.] BOTH. Doesn’t matter what comes, fresh goes better in life, with Mentos
2. (Scandinavian fan) Ouch. Yah sure, it’d hit me. Society always trying fresh and full of life. Fresh goes better, Mentos fresher, fresh goes
to keep my people down. better with Mentos fresh and full of life.
1. What? What are you talking about? 1. Mentos, The Freshmaker.
2. We Norwegians are always getting the shaft but nobody cares… 1. (pauses) Alright, (melodramatic) I’ve got pink eye!
1. Oh, that would explain the sweater. 2. (also very melodramatic) No!
2. I know you be hating on my lutefisk. 1. Yes, and this morning I stubbed my toe.
1. I know, we could write a speech piece about how society holds your 2. (gasps)
people down and then guilt trip the judge into giving us pity points…. 1. But that’s not all, I’m pregnant…
2. I don’t know, it seems like kind of a low blow. How about a mental 2. I can’t believe it
disorder. 1. With my brother’s baby.
1. Alright (autistic character from the beginning) Brother Mikey…. 2. The agony.
2. (straight, no character addressing fellow actor) No wait, I hate it 1. And I fear the baby might have syphilis
when people rip off other people’s pieces… 2. The horror.
1. Me too. 1. And pink eye.
2. Boom. 2. This is all so dramatic!
1. Chick. 1. And did I mention that I can tell from the way the baby is moving, that
2. Boom Boom. he’s horribly mutated.
1. Chicka. 2. I don’t believe this, what are you going to do…
BOTH. (begin “beat box/rapping”) Boom Chicka-ah Boom Boom Buh Chicka- 1. Wait, that’s not all…
ah. 2. Go on
1. Wait, what good is pointless rapping in the middle of a piece? 1. I…I…I didn’t shop around for the best prices in auto insurance
2. Actually, I just thought it would be funny to see you try and rap. It was 2. Oh that’s terri…wait, what?
pretty sad, though. 1. I know, I can’t bear to live with myself.
1. I bet I could beat it… 2. I wouldn’t be able to either, sicko.
2. How? 1. Hang on, at least I’m not the one who brought up the autism.
1. I don’t know if I should tell you this… 2. (nostalgically) Yeah you’re right (autistic character) Brother Mikey,
2. If you feel you must, you must brother Mikey.
1. Wait, that’s not all… 1. Brucey, that’s it (steps back) I can’t handle this.
2. Go on
1. I…I…I didn’t shop around for the best prices in auto insurance Conclude singing Mentos theme song.
2. Oh that’s terri…wait, what?
1. I know, I can’t bear to live with myself. BOTH. Doesn’t matter what comes, fresh goes better in life, with Mentos
2. I wouldn’t be able to either, sicko. fresh and full of life. Fresh goes better, Mentos fresher, fresh goes
1. Hang on, at least I’m not the one who brought up the autism. better with Mentos fresh and full of life.
2. (nostalgically) Yeah you’re right (autistic character) Brother Mikey, 1. Mentos, The Freshmaker.
brother Mikey.
1. Brucey, that’s it (steps back) I can’t handle this.

Conclude singing Mentos theme song.

BOTH. Doesn’t matter what comes, fresh goes better in life, with Mentos
fresh and full of life. Fresh goes better, Mentos fresher, fresh goes
better with Mentos fresh and full of life.
1. Mentos, The Freshmaker.
1. Wait, that’s not all…
2. Go on
1. I…I…I didn’t shop around for the best prices in auto insurance
2. Oh that’s terri…wait, what?
1. I know, I can’t bear to live with myself.
2. I wouldn’t be able to either, sicko.
1. Hang on, at least I’m not the one who brought up the autism.
2. (nostalgically) Yeah you’re right (autistic character) Brother Mikey,

6 7
 You’re going to die,

In All Directions
That someday, you won’t be here.
Won’t you do that?
But the problem is you won’t
by Nancy Harper Move on move on
Move on move on
My time machine
is short, squat,
red with lavender stripes,
Move on.
and makes a whistling noise
You will have children and you’ll hear them
(whistles)
Through the corners of your hearing aids,
When it takes off,
“You know, it’s all a matter of time now,
(which is quite often)
we’re just waiting for her to let go.
It jolts left first,
It’s her time.”
Then right,
The thing is,
Then forward,
There is no death until the day you die
Then backward,
so stop waiting
down
(Breaths)
and finally up
keep breathing
At about 100 kilometers an hour.
(breaths)
(that’s about 36 miles and hour for all you metric system people)
there is no death until the day you die.
which is pretty fast when it’s just you and
If there’s only one thing you can focus on through your cataracts,
a six foot tall metallic box that knocked
Make it
my socks straight out its window
Move on move on move on.
through the door, and—
Well, I had to go retrieve them,
So I did, Golden Girls, Matlock, Murder She Wrote.
Jumped out the window The only three television shows created ,directed, edited and cut for
And who should I bump into but people with their senior discount card in their back pocket.
Gray haired shrunken slightly rat-a-tat
eighty year old me. Hey hey hey Angela Lansbury!
Sizing old me up I said, I have a secret.
“You look wrinkly and you smell like mothballs.” I know who did it… again.
Ew. And again and again and again.
Well, old me wasn’t about to take that: Because knowing the killer is never a thriller
“Kid, this’ll be the best time of your life When every eighty year old man that’s watching is yelling,
because no one cares what you smell like “speed it up, bitch!”
look like act like. I get bored just watching your fingers slide
They expect you to be crazy and lazy so you are, Smoothly across silver embedded keys,
and I am. Pulsating with each. Tap. Each. Push. Ah.
So there.
There.I thought. Yeah. Ok, see? See what you did?
(fold up time machine) That would have been sexual
But the lack of intellectual levels
You’re ten. Leaves you dumb and us dumbfounded.
You wake up in the middle of the night and What if, what if the cast of, “Friends”
realize became 80 year old women gossiping and hyping about who had the
you’re going to die. best looking girdle
That someday, you won’t be here. And and the hottest chick was the one
But I mean, then, you just move on, who had the least amount of facial hair?
Because you’re ten, and that’s what What if Joey, from Dawson’s Creek, turned 75, and had a heart attack from climbing that
10 year olds do. dumb ladder against
Didn’t you do that? Dawson’s window?
And then you move on. Because, I don’t want wait for out lives to be over…
Move on move on move on. then don’t.
You’re eighty.
You wake up in the middle of the night and
Realize.

8 9
The baking spoon drips in the kitchen. Is playing this big ol’ trick.
There will be a mess later, on the tiles. What if eighteen was the end, and eighty was the beginning,
And well, he’s just seeing if we can handle having all these
One of his legs has grown bigger than the other, wrinkles and false teeth stuff.
He tells me the night we return from the restaurant
As I try to remember if he had eyes I watched my parents hit 40 like they were hitting a brick wall,
Before we left at seven. crossing over from when my mom would wear her shirt with the word,
“Thirtysomething,” loudly, and shake her booty to
And my birthday cake Tina Turner’s, “Proud Mary,”
Pink cheesy icing that my mom (shake shake)
“just threw together,” when she thought no one was watching.
nestles patiently on the blue plate.
And now.
But my brother remains airborne, The couch is remembering her exact butt shape
And we wait for him in baggage. And wondering where her ass is if she misses one episode
“It’s his prescription meds,” my mom says. Of Jeopardy.
A fifty-one-year old apology. And yes ya’ll, Jeopardy is for old people.
And I don’t know what to do anymore. Have you seen how many Fibercon ads run on commercial break?
It’s my birthday, the spoon is dripping
And I stand in the doorway Let me break it down for you.
And I stand
And he falls to the floor If you feel your life is over at fifty,
And all my mom says is why don’t you just drop dead?
“I hope he didn’t stain the carpet.” Or better yet, give it to my grandmother who’s carrying an oxygen tank at 60
So she has enough energy to live to breathe, to laugh.
It is my birthday. Give it to that boy in my high school who tried to cross the street in the rain
I want to scream
A tiny scream like a conversation bubble And was instead met by a blue Toyota celica.
Above my head Give it to them.
That I can slip under his door later, I wish.
Attach it to a string like a balloon That if you weren’t going to use your life you could give it away
That I will carry around for the rest of my life, Throw it on over here as easily as my dad used to play catch with me.
For the Breyer’s vanilla bean chip in the freezer Used to.
That wasn’t Because we’re hitting forty and we’re metaphorically dying
That won’t be Sighing about cellulite and imitation butter and frickin’
But never. High cholesterol.
Awww.
Fuck you. Are things not what they used to be?
Listen, it is my birthday, I have an idea: Change them.
And you have to stand up
And love me on June 25 You know, we have become an assembly line of assholes.
Every year till I’m dead. Slapping labels on Gladys and Ethel and Grandpa Bob,
That say, “expired.”
Retired has a bad bad connotation.
As we place our relatives into
Because one day Square white rooms
I will be seventy, of sanitary bed sheets and Jell-O Instant pudding.
And still remember unopened icecream, Gardens left not weeded,
And pill bottles bright like dignity strewn across the dash of
Rotten tangerines behind my vitamins. my grandfather’s red Ford truck that my mom took away
when he got, “too old.”
Just because we have a lifetime doesn’t mean we use it.
——————- Does the fact that we’re young make us more important?
Think about that.
What if Because some of you believe it,
What if this is all one big test, And that is what’s frightening,
And god(if there is one) That’s what needs to change.
The magician that he is Not your skin tone, your toothpaste,

10 114
your eye color.

Don’t stop living because people tell you to.

We are old when we think it we are young when we think it
With A Kiss by Trevor Anders
a-and the secret is, shhh……
JUDY. (she is extremely nervous, pacing back forth. JUDY is unsure of her
no one is more important.
next more, what to say, what to even do…) It’s that simple. Call him
up and get him here. He takes the fall and you’re off the hook. It’s that
So back up to the original question:
simple. No one has to know. It’s that simple. (grabs her cell phone) It’s
“What if the beginning is the end,
not that simple, but why shouldn’t it be? He’s the family favorite. He’s
and what if the end is the beginning?”
the pride and joy, and what am I? I’m the black sheep, the big mis
Can you handle that?
take. I’m sorry Jace, but it’s the only way.
Can you deal with that?
JACE. (grunts) This has better be important. (picks up the phone) Hello?
Can you comprehend that, maybe
JUDY. Jace?
pack it away for later?
JACE. Yeah, this is Jace. Who is this?
Let me tell you something….
JUDY. It’s Judy. Look, I need a favor.
later, it’s becoming—
JACE. It’s almost midnight, not to mention the fact I haven’t heard from you
Now.
in two months.
JUDY. I’m at my wits end Jace. I got myself in trouble—something I can’t get
out of. You’re the only person I knew to call.
JACE. All right, all right. Where are you?
JUDY. I’m at the garden in the park.

JACE. Judy?
JUDY. (crying) Thank you Jace. Oh, thank you for coming. I didn’t expect
you here so quickly.
JACE. I took a shortcut. Here, sit down. Now tell me what’s wrong.
JUDY. It’s the cops, Jace. The police are looking for me and I’ve got no place
to go.
JACE. Easy. Now just slow down and start from the beginning.
JUDY. As always, I screwed up.
JACE. That doesn’t matter, but if I’m gonna help you out, you’re going to
have tell me what’s going on.
JUDY. I met this guy named Darion, and he was so nice to me. I was clean
and sober and thought I had finally got my life back on track. Then
one night we went to a party and everyone was smokin’ weed. I said
I was cool, that I didn’t feel like smoking…
JACE. But?
JUDY. Darion said I was making him look like an idiot so I should just shut the
hell up and take a hit. Besides, it was only a hit. He promised he’d look
out for me. And he did. And one hit turned into smoking all night. It
was that easy to bounce back into it.
JACE. What the hell were you thinking?
JUDY. I wasn’t, but what else was I supposed to do?
JACE. Oh, I don’t know, maybe leave?
JUDY. It’s always that simple for you Jace. Just say no. You booze you lose.
Don’t have no need for weed.
JACE. You’re the one who called me out here in the middle of the night. If
you don’t want to hear what I have to say…
JUDY. Ok, fine.
JACE. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I have a feeling the party incident
isn’t the reason why you’re here?
JUDY. It gets worse. I should have learned from that night, but I didn’t.
Actually, it just made things easier. Then D gets the idea we should get
in the business for ourselves. Then D decides he wants to get into the
business…asks if I want in.
JACE. Get in the business?

12 13
JUDY. We should start dealing. He said it would be easy cash and it would years.
make things much simpler for us. JACE. How’s that? I’m not the junkie of the family.
JACE. So now you’re not only a user again, but a dealer to boot? What is JUDY. I told D to wait until you left and then leave a little evidence, and
wrong with you? So now you’re using and dealing! (she doesn’t once he leaves he’ll give the cops a call letting them know they can
respond) Answer me! find the infamous Jace Christianson here in the park. And when they
JUDY. Yes. That’s why I called you here. The cops are on to us. They’re search your place, it’ll be bye bye big brother and then you’ll know
looking for Darion, but he’s been laying low. He wouldn’t tell me where what it’s like for your life to be a living hell.
he’s at. What I’m trying to say is that I need a place to crash. JACE. Judy think this over…I’m sorry for what I did. Just call Darion and tell him
JACE. Do you know what that would make me? not to follow through with the plan. I’ll give you money. I’ll find you an
JUDY. I don’t know…a really swell guy? apartment. I’ll do whatever you ask, just don’t go through with this.
JACE. For your information, it would make me an accessory to a crime. JUDY. Too late. I think it’s time you take responsibility for your own life.
JUDY. Then would you at least give me some cash so I could get out of town? JACE. We can work this out Judy, just please hear me out.
JACE. I thought you were rolling in dough from dealing drugs? JUDY. I’ve bailed you out too many times already.
JUDY. D took the money when he left. JACE. (starts to laugh, builds into hysteria)
JACE. Surprise, surprise. JUDY. (confused) What’s so funny?
JUDY. You know, you can be a real ass. JACE. Nothing, except the fact that I’m not really here.
JACE. Maybe, but I’m not the person the cops are looking for. JUDY. What?
JUDY. And what if you were? JACE. This conversation never even took place. You never called me and
JACE. I’m not. Look, I can’t keep bailing you out. I give you money and then I’m still asleep in my apartment.
I don’t hear from you or see you for six months or until you’re in another JUDY. That’s not possible.
scrape, whichever comes first. JACE. Here’s the catch, Judy. Right now I’m waking up from a nightmare. A
JUDY. Well, I’m sorry Jace, but I’m not like you. nightmare about me having made you suffer these years and doing
JACE. I don’t want you to be perfect; I just want you to take responsibility for nothing more than trying to clean up the mess. A nightmare that I
you own life. deserved.
JUDY. By what? Going to jail? JUDY. But you’re right in front of me?
JACE. It would, at least, give you some time to get your life together…you put JACE. Think pretty hard about what you’re planning to do. (long pause) I’m
yourself where you are. gonna walk away right now and your cell phone is going to ring. (kisses
JUDY. No, I didn’t. You did. her on the cheek) I think you’ll know who it is.
JACE. What exactly do you mean by that? JUDY. Hello?
JUDY. All my life I’ve been in your shadow. Judy, why can’t you be like Jace? JACE. Judy, is that you?
Jace isn’t a screw up, so why the hell are you? JUDY. Jace?
JACE. That’s exactly what I’m talking about Judy. Where were you when I JACE. Yeah, it’s me. Sis, I’ve got something I’ve been needing to say to you
was studying so I could get a college scholarship? You were out for a very, very long time. (long pause)
partying every night. Where were you when I was working my ass off to JUDY. Yeah?
have a future? You were off moving from boyfriend to boyfriend as
long as you had a place to stay.
JUDY. Where were you when I needed you the most? You were too busy
with your own damn life to give a care about anyone else.
JACE. That’s not true. Think of things I’ve done for you.
JUDY. You mean what you write off on your taxes? Those little things you do
to keep a clean conscience? Who introduced me to my first boy
friend?
JACE. That isn’t how you wound up here.
JUDY. Who hooked me up with his best friend who got me drunk at a party
and raped me while I was unconscious? And who didn’t warm me
that his friend David would be a loser that wouldn’t accept responsibil
ity for his baby so I had to have an abortion?
JACE. It was me! Is that what you what me to say? And I’ve paid for those
mistakes every day since.
JUDY. I stay high most of the time so that I don’t just go on and kill myself and
get it over with. You have no clue what suffering is like, but you will
soon.
JACE. What do you mean by that?
JUDY. Let’s just say the cops aren’t looking for Darion and me. They’ve been
tipped off that Jace Christianson is a major dealer that has just set up
shop in town. I have a feeling that when they bust into your apart
ment, they’ll find more than enough evidence to send you away for

14 15
 very special day. We celebrate the marriage of two great people.

Philadelphos
Jessica, I’ve never met a girl with such a kind heart and
spirit…uh…besides my wife. Hi there honey. And to Steve, you’re like a
brother to me. I feel fortunate that I am lucky enough to know you and
by Odell Workman have you as a friend. I wish you, and your new bride, health, wealth
and all the happiness life has to offer. So, if you would, please raise your
GARY. Friendships. Of all the relationships a person can have with another
glasses to Mrs. and Mrs. Steven Sullivan.
human being, the friendship is, by far, the most odd one of them all.
You know what I mean? We merge paths with hundreds of people
STEVE. Hey, Gary. I just wanted to say thanks.
every day. Chances are we’ll never see ninety-five percent of those
GARY. Yeah, I’m still worn out from the party last night. I didn’t know some of
faces again, but with a little luck you just never know what conversa-
those things were humanly possible.
tion will change your life forever.
STEVE. No, you lunkhead. About what you said during the toast. It really
STEVE. Yeah…uh…I’ll have the Big Mac meal with a Coke. That’s all. Thanks.
meant a lot to me.
GARY. Let’s see…I will…I will have the Double Quarter Pounder…no onions and
GARY. It was nothing.
a Sprite.
STEVE. No, I really mean it. You know I was adopted. And when my folks got
STEVE. You’d really think they could speed this up.
one look at me, they knew one was enough. Seriously, though, without
GARY. I know. How long could it possibly take to flash fry a potato?
any brothers and sisters, at least any that I know of…what I’m trying to
STEVE. For minimum wage teens? Who knows? Hi, I’m Steve.
say is thanks. It’s just when you said I was like a brother to you…
GARY. Nice to meet you, man. Gary.
GARY. I meant every word of it.
STEVE. Well, I just wanted to let you know I’d be proud to have a brother like
GARY. Funny word ‘friendship.’ It evokes a picture of two little cartoon boats
you.
chugging along a sea whistling a happy tune. Okay, maybe that’s just
me. Even funnier is the fact that Steve’s and my friendship began
STEVE. Gary, we need to talk.
waiting in line at McDonalds. ‘Would you like a hot apple pie with
GARY. What’s wrong? Wife maxed out your credit card?
that? No, but I’ll have a buddy meal.’ Fine, humor never was my
STEVE. Nah, Jessica’s great.
strong suit. Unlike most people, Steve and I didn’t lose touch after that
GARY. What’s wrong then?
lunch. In fact, we began to talk more and more frequently. We
STEVE. Actually, it’s me. I uh…I got some bad news from the doctor.
became close. I mean, I’ve had several great friends over the years,
GARY. It’s nothing serious. Is it?
but there was something different about Steve. I just couldn’t put my
STEVE. I’m afraid it is. I got the results back from my annual physical and the
finger on it.
doctor found an irregularity. He wants to run some more tests, just to be
sure, but he thinks I’m in the early stages of kidney failure. At best, I
STEVE. Big news, man. You’re never going to believe what I did today.
have a couple of years. At worst, around six months.
GARY. You threw out that God-awful shirt your mother, girlfriend, and I all
GARY. What about a transplant?
hate?
STEVE. Other than the kidneys, I’m a healthy guy so I’m a good candidate.
STEVE. Hey, I like that shirt.
There’s just a slight catch: a genetic abnormality. A donor would most-
GARY. You told your boss he could go to…
likely have to be someone in my family. Otherwise, it’s a million to one
STEVE. Even better.
shot.
GARY. Geeze, I give up.
GARY. I’ll still get tested.
STEVE. I asked Jessica to marry me.
STEVE. It won’t likely pan out.
GARY. You what?
GARY. Well, I’m not giving up and I hope you’re not either. What about your
STEVE. I just knew it was the right time. So I said, ‘If you not doing anything for
birth parents?
the next fifty or so years, I thought we might tie the knot?’
STEVE. You mean the parents I’ve never met?
GARY. You’re not serious? And she said?
GARY. There’s gotta be a way you can get to that information. You could
STEVE. Well, she said she’d have to move some things around, but Jessica
very well have brothers or sisters out there that could help you—that
thought she could pencil me in.
could save your life.
GARY. I cannot believe you.
STEVE. Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not.
STEVE. Now there’s just one more thing.
GARY. I just wish there was something I could do.
GARY. And that is?
STEVE. I just wish you were my brother.
STEVE. I want you to be my best man.
GARY. Wow, I’m honored. You bet.
STEVE. You’re not going to believe this. We think we’ve found a match.
STEVE. There’s no one else I’d rather have behind me.
GARY. Oh my God. That’s fantastic, Steve. Does that mean you found your
STEVE. All of my other friends are too small to stop me if I make a run for the
family?
door.
STEVE. Short answer: yes. Not the way I expected, though.
GARY. Do you ever plan on growing up?
GARY. I’m confused. I guess I’m still in shock. I thought the odds were a million
STEVE. Only when I have to. By the way, here’s my list of ideas for the
to one.
batchelor party.
STEVE. They were. But the odds of what I’m about to tell you are more like a
GARY. Ladies and gentlemen if I could have your attention please. C’mon.
zillion to one.
C’mon. There’ll be plenty of time to drink and dance later. Today is a

16 17
GARY. I’m not following you.

Through These Gates

STEVE. I had a friend pull some string with the Department of Vital Statistics to
find out about
my birth family. Stuff that could get him fired, but it’s life and death,
you know? Geeze, I don’t know how to say this so I just gonna come by Corey Alderdice
out with it. You’re my brother.
I have this theory about clubs.
GARY. C’mon Steve. That’s impossible. You know I’d love that, but you can’t
You’ve probably seen it all in action, especially if you’re a guy of average looks
be serious. Can you?
in your early to mid-twenties. If you’re of the female persuasion, well, you’re probably
STEVE. It’s all here. Have a look. I know this is a shock to you. So I talked to
oblivious. This theory is rather simple in mechanics, but—like gravity—I find that I am
your parents about it. They just never had to the heart to let you know
damned into submission.
you were adopted. They just wanted you to be as happy as you
You’re still not getting it, okay. To simplify: there are six kinds of guys at dance
could.
clubs and they’re each very, very different. Like the Israelites of millennia ago, they are
GARY. Under any other circumstance, I don’t know how I’d take this.
searching for the Promised Land—a place of milk and honeys. And just like that first
STEVE. Me neither, but your test results prove this. You’re a match.
generation in exile, few will ever see its borders.
GARY. Really?
Trust me, it sucks, but at least I’ve gotten used to it.
STEVE. Are you okay?
GARY. Yeah. And you’ll be too.
The fourth week of each college semester is the byproduct of some great
conspiracy. C’mon, you expect professors to gang up on you during midterms and finals,
GARY. Steve got his transplant. You know how they say transplant surgery is
but this one comes out of the blue. My first taste of hell. By the end of this fourth week,
one of the most painful things you can go through. Oh yeah, they’re
I’m ready for something else–anything else. The pages of Hawthorne and Sartre and
not lying about it. But I’m proud to say that, in exchange for a spare
Stuart are beginning to blend into a literary smoothie. I guess that’s why it doesn’t seem
kidney, two years later I got a nephew—William Gary Sullivan. It really
like such a bad idea when Lucy calls and says we should go clubbing.
is funny, that word friendship. The Greeks had a word for the love
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” she says.
shared between two friends called philadelphos—a brotherly love. I
“Root canal fun or Chinese water torture fun?” I think this is clever.
guess I got lucky in life. I mean, it was by chance I showed up at
I always think my little quips are clever.
McDonalds that day. It was sheer luck I struck up a conversation with
“I was actually thinking more of the electric cattle prod kind, but if you’re looking
a complete stranger. And it had to be nothing less than fate that he
for something a little more exotic.”
turned out to be my brother who needed me. Our paths could have
Damn, she topped me. “I really would like to sleep, I’ve had three Lit exams this
never met, but they somehow did. I got lucky. I got a friend and a
week.”
brother. That, and a super-size fries.
“Then you need some fun.”
“Like I need a hole in my head.”
Lucy and I play this little game; I always lose. She knows that whenever I pick
up the phone I’m going to do whatever she says. That’s just my nature. Call it a desire to
please or to just feel wanted–whatever–but I’m already beaten.
“I take it I’m driving.” At least I am humble in defeat.
“Oh, you’re the best. Pick me up in an hour.”
Lucy and I are not dating. Was that obvious? Because people who are
actually dating don’t like clubs. Again, you’re confused. How do I say this? Guys go to
clubs for one reason: to get ass. Blunt, but
painfully true. My visits only seem to add to the bigger picture of my frustration.
We arrive at Lucy’s club of choice this evening. The Inferno is housed in an old
meat-processing plant, the genius of urban planning and reconstruction, a mix between
S&M and Trading Spaces. I think it’s only fitting that the place was once a bloody mess.
It’s exactly how I feel.
For Lucy’s sake I try to put on a happy face. I even dress up. My outfit is the
result of Lucy’s impulse shopping: brown cords, a purposefully-wrinkled imported long-
sleeve shirt, shiny black buckled shoes, and a coral necklace. I honestly don’t know if I
should laugh or cry. As we pass the windows of bistros and coffee houses, I catch
glimpses of myself. It’s always pleasant to know you dropped a week’s paycheck to look
this foolish, but Lucy is happy so I must be happy by proxy.
The building is basked in a red glow. Groups of girls in halter-tops and stretches
of string enter the building. By the way that one of them is stumbling around, my guess is
that she’s already begun the festivities for the evening. Standing in line are people of
every sort: skin tones, socio-economic status by choice of clothing, even age—despite
their best attempt at using Just For Men. I’m beginning to forget why I’m even here in the
first place, because I have to look just as stupid as the rest of the crowd—a pathetic
facsimile of Where’s Waldo.

18 19
 “All they need is the sign that says ‘Abandon hope all who enter through these
gates,’” I comment. There actually are gates: metallic grids topped with sharp points
and gothic demons pulled from some artist’s worst nightmare. His catharsis is at least
profitable. I, on the other hand, will be losing twenty dollars for our entrance.
“That would be overdoing the metaphor,” she replies punching me in the side
and taking my wallet.
“No one’s big on subtlety these days.”
“Promise me you will try and have a good time tonight.”
“No promises.”
This is where Lucy and I part ways. I mentioned we’re not together, right? I
mean, I fulfill the daily roles of a boyfriend: shopping, talking, complaining, and the
occasional witty retort. I just fail to receive the perks of the actual relationship. I’m in this
whole thing pro bono. I like to think of myself as the “Hetero Gay Best Friend.”
Inside The Inferno, the music is overpowering. I’m not sure who the artist is, but
he has an affinity for doggy style and the f-word. Now, I know I’m in hell. So I do what
any other person of legal age would, I head to the bar.
“Red Bull and vodka, lots of vodka.”
“Enjoy,” he says. He. The servers behind the bar are all women except for this
joker. My face flushes red as I feel my temperature rising. As always this is my luck. And by
the expression on his face, he can see the ridiculous nature of my costume.
“Thanks.”
I move across the crowded room and settle into a corner table. It’s the only
open seat and it’s next to a speaker. I scan the room and become informed of a
different singer’s love of Barcardi and pimpin’. At this point you’re wondering why I’m
here in the first place? If I’m this miserable, there’s really no point in being here.
No one is in hell by choice.
I’m a pro at this. I can spend four hours of my life reading or making someone
else happy. Too bad she’s dancing with someone else. Now is the precise moment
when my eyes catch sight of Lucy among the throng of clubbers. Fire and brimstone do
not burn this badly. She’s made a new friend with above average looks, impeccable
taste in clothing, and this guy must have the soul of a Latin samba dancer. He’s one of
the lucky.
You see, I have this theory about hell. And that’s really what this club is. The
place is overheated and a confined space where the noise is so loud that you can’t
hear your own thoughts. When the lights are swimming around the walls, you lose sight of
even yourself. Depending on what drugs are being passed around that night, there’s a
decent chance for weeping and gnashing of teeth. However, this is not a unilateral hell;
there are, in fact, many levels. Each one filled with lost souls seeking salvation and
constantly being turned away.
“You got a light?” a guy asks. Back to reality. He reminds me of myself. I look
more ridiculous, but at least he looks more dejected.
“Yeah.” I reach into my pocket. I don’t smoke, but I carry a lighter. It’s just in
case I’m ever covered in gasoline. I’d hate to waste the opportunity, or if some smoker
needs a light. Always looking to help a person in need.“Thanks man,” he says.
“No problem. You alone?” Of course he is.
“Just killing time.”
At this point, I realize it sounds like I’m hitting on him. So I stop talking. There’s an
awkward pause of around twenty seconds and he simply walks away. He resides in one
circle higher than I and yet he doesn’t even know it.
My residence is in the lowest circle of hell. I’ve done nothing to get here and
that’s precisely why I’m being punished. At the bottom are the guys who don’t even
stand a chance, so they don’t even try, so they don’t even get a name. They are
happy (kinda) with sitting at a table and watching the torture of other souls by demonic
20
sirens. I grab a cocktail napkin and draw a frowny face in the corner. This is me. The
young man who’s just left my table, I draw him in the other corner.
He is a Searcher, desperately looking to find someone. To make matters worse
(and to decrease his chances of salvation), he’s wearing a sweater vest. My guess is
he’s pursuing a PhD in some liberal art. All he needs is a pocket protector and he’d easily
pass for a Tri-Lambda or Anthony Edwards or any other poor bastard from the Revenge of
the Nerds trilogy. At least he is searching. He walks around the edge of the club looking
for some twist of fate, but he won’t find it.
Lucy is thirsty, but rather than having her new boy toy buy her a drink she comes
to me. Partially because she lost track of me and partially because I have the keys to the
car and this really isn’t the best neighborhood for a solo walk after midnight.
“Where you been?” she inquires as her hand brushes my cheek.
“Just taking a break. You know how easily I sweat.” Not the sexiest thing I could
have said. Mental note: I need to learn when to quit.
“With that winning charm, how do you not have a girlfriend?”
“So how does the field look tonight?” An interruption, at least, allows me to
dodge the question.
“Oh, there’s potential.”
“Have fun, then,” I add and then we’re back to square one. She grabs my Red
Eye and finishes it off. Lucy is back among the group, and on her way to the sardine can
of horny dancers, she passes the Wolfpack.
The Wolfpack, the fourth lowest circle. I do commend these guys for showing
some initiative. Mathematically speaking, it’s simple. There is a level of saturation on the
dance floor that cannot be surpassed so they patiently wait their turn. The occasional
one does happen to stop a girl who already drank too much, but for the most part they
are simply place fillers. Some do actually make it onto the floor. They become the
Sweepers freaking about the crowd. These guys know they are alone, but they’re
making the best of damnation. Some are dancing with glowsticks in hand. They look
happy, but they’ve gotta realize what they are missing out on.
I head back to the bar. To cover my humiliation, I act like I’m ordering drinks for
two, but it’s just my way of passing time. I make sure this time I head in the direction of a
barmaid.
“Hey cutie, what’ll it be?” The last time I heard this phrase was at a strip club.
Another story.
“Two Red Eye doubles.” I figure I should remain awake during torture.
“Drinking for one?”
“Is it that obvious?” My eyes squint and my jaw falls slightly slack. I realize the
absurdity of this situation. I’m paying seven dollars for each drink to slip out of conscious-
ness but to stay awake. Maybe my stupidity is why I deserve to be in hell. She pours the
drinks and I go on my way.Heading back to the table, which ironically remains open, I try
to make eye contact with girls, but have no luck. It’s mostly awkward glances that you
give and receive in return when you’re a third grader. I must have spent more time
memorizing multiplication tables and spelling. Damn my lack of priorities.
I settle back in and scratch a sketch of the Wolfpack and Sweepers on my
napkin. I’m starting to realize what Michelangelo was thinking when he painted The
Final Judgment. I mean, he was aware of the souls around him going in both directions.
Mikey was undecided about his fate, so he simply painted himself as an empty shell. I
must have finally reached the point where the alcohol allows me to wax philosophically.
Lucy has now made two friends. One is attempting to have sex with her
despite the simple fact they are both wearing clothes. The other is admiring her backside,
trying to see how far he can shove his crotch up her ass. I think I saw this one time on a
Discovery Channel special. Crotch Boy is a Meddler. He’s moved in on someone else’s
territory but doesn’t care. Lucy whispers something to Sex Boy and he turns her around.
21
Crotch Boy is uncomfortable with the ambiguously homosexual notion of dancing near a
guy so he decides to stick his...uh...nose...in someone else’s business.
For more quality material, visit our website at
This is when it hits me.
Sex Boy is a Saint—the least condemned soul in hell. Like a Marine he is both the
http://www.speechgeek.com
few and the proud. He has the girl and he has her all to himself. And I can’t stand him
because of it.
Why?
Because Lucy doesn’t really know him.
Because when he stops calling two weeks later, I’ll be the one to console her.
Because I’ve put up with all the highs and the lows and have only received Humorous Interpretation
moralistic platitudes of “You’re the greatest guy in the world,” in return. Thanks for
noticing.
The Ultimate Drama
Because Lucy is mine. Well, she should be. by Carrie Taylor and Katie Garlock
At this point the six shots of alcohol have my head swimming and the twenty-
four ounces of Red Bull have my heart thumping. I need fresh air. I force my way through
the crowd to Lucy. She looks euphoric.
“I’m leaving.” I pronounce.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Somewhere else.”
Poetry Interpretation
“Why?” In All Directions
“I’m tired of being here. Why do you fucking care?”
By now we’re both shouting at the top of our lungs, but it’s lost among the by Nancy Harper
rapper’s profession of smoking blunts. That’s when Sex Boy steps up.
“Let him drive you home,” I point at the Saint.
I push through the crowd toward the door. At last I’m free. The late September
air is surprisingly cold. I notice this because the sweat has caused my poly-rayon blend
shirt to pull toward my body. Duo Interpretation (Male / Female)
I walk.
I wind up in front of a coffee shop, the one where I happened to catch a With A Kiss
sideways glance of myself earlier. I still look ridiculous. I see the coral necklace around my
neck and jerk it from my body. Little beads of rock and metal spread across the sidewalk. by Trevor Anders
I go inside and order a latte. I should feel better after this. Again, I move to the corner of
the room. There’s only one other person here tonight besides the worker.
I’m reading a newspaper that’s already yesterday’s news when a hand pulls
down the paper.
“Hi,” she says. Duo Interpretation (Male / Male)
The thick black cat-eye glasses accentuate the curves of her face. I bet her
vision is lacking because she read too many books at night when she was a girl. She’s Philadelphos
not a great looking woman, but you know she could be, her twisted up brunette hair
and smeared mascara the result of her love for ancient epics moreso than Cosmo.
by Odell Workman
I sit up, “Be my guest.”
It feels as though the sticky floor is the only thing keeping me grounded. She sets
her purse down next to my chair. Sticking out of her bag is a copy of Virgil. This girl is
deep. Prose Interpretation
We begin talking and I feel as though I might disappear through the cracked
linoleum with one wrong look. In my mind I’m rising through the circles of hell. Salvation
Through These Gates
has come at last, blocks away from the noise and the other lost souls. I’m pressing onward by Corey Alderdice
and upward—-my guide leading me toward the stars. This is what heaven must feel
like. I realize the clock has melted into 2 a.m.
Then it hits me. I don’t even know her name. She knows what I’m thinking.
“I’m Grace,” she smiles.
I smile as well and reach into my pocket to throw away the napkin sketch—-a
failed masterpiece. Yet I am brilliant in defeat. After all, Michelangelo also painted the SpeechGeek
rest of the Sistine Chapel.
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