Synopsis: The Clifton University women’s basketball team is going to the NCAA tournament for the first time in the school’s history. And riding on the team’s coattails – all the way to Arizona – is the pep band. Not everyone is excited about the pending take off, however. Rachel has never flown before and is facing a long-postponed confrontation. Fortunately, or unfortunately for her depending on her point of view, she’s joined by who two friends: Kyle and Matt who are there to provide support in their own unique way. Before they get off the ground, the trio will discuss post-9/11 security, feasting on the crumbs of the athletic department, airline safety manuals, and other laughable subjects.
(Curtain – or whatever – opens to reveal three seats at center of stage. They should be rigged together closely or otherwise bolted down so that they remain in place despite the motions of the actors )
Rachel: (Enters stage from left. She curves to start coming up from behind the chairs, as if going up a row. She carries with her a purse in one hand and a ticket that she frequently consults. Stopping along side the chairs, she pointedly rechecks the seat against unseen numbers on the unseen chairs. She hobbles in sideways, as if squeezing past a row of chairs invisible to the audience, to sit in the far right seat, as viewed from the audience. She stores her purse beneath her seat and situates herself. She stretches out her arms and pats her knees to reassure herself. She turns to her right and looks back ahead, tapping her knees again. She shakes her head and turns to look out an imaginary window. She puts her hand on the glass and cranes to see back and forth around the wing. Shaking her head more prominently, she gets up and moves over one seat. She is pulling out her purse to put it under her new seat when Kyle and Matt arrive, tracing the same path Rachel took up the aisle)
(Matt is a tall, hulking guy whose larger frames holds a witty mind. Kyle is a bit smaller – especially in comparison to Matt – though no less playful and just as sharp)
Matt: I can still barely believe it. The women’s basketball team made it to the NCAA tournament, and the pep band gets to ride along.
Kyle: You’re on the plane, what more is there to believe?
Matt: I’ll believe it when we’re on the ground in Phoenix.
Kyle: Where we get to stay a whole week whether the team wins or not.
Matt: It’s like we’ve sold our soul to the Devil.
Kyle: Or at least rented it temporarily, like a Faustian time-share.
Matt: With a hefty per diem.
Kyle: All thanks to those beautiful basketball playing ladies. (Pauses) I guess technically that makes me a kept man.
Rachel:Scratch one more item off your long-term “to do” list, Kyle.
Kyle: Thanks for reminding me, Rachel. (Pulls out imaginary notepad and crosses off an item with a flurry) Let’s see… What to do next… Climb Everest or compete in an Iron Man competition.
Rachel: Wouldn’t a Tin Man competition be more appropriate?
Matt: Hey, lay off “Dorothy.” (makes the classic quotation fingers phrasing)
Kyle: Thanks, Matt.
Matt: We all know Kyle would make a killing at the Aluminum Foil trials.
Kyle: (Swings a pointing finger back between his two friends) You both suck, though I’m going to say Rachel sucks more because she made the initial joke.
(Kyle and Matt plop down on the open seats to Rachel’s sides. Matt is in the far right seat that Rachel originally vacated and Kyle is in the “aisle” seat)
Rachel: At least it doesn’t take me an eternity to get on the plane. I was beginning to wonder where everyone else was. What to you all so long?
Kyle: It seems some of the members of the band were detained by the crack security guards.
Rachel: You mean those two disgruntled women who looked like former P.E. teachers?
Matt: Yep. America’s first line of defense in the war on terrorism. Don’t you just feel safer knowing they’re there, (puts his hands on his hips while making a stern grimace) glaring at passengers and making potential hijackers run laps.
Kyle: (Points at imaginary terrorist) He’s got a bomb! (Points at ground and growls) Drop and give me 60 one-armed push-ups.
Rachel: Alright, alright… So what really happened? Did someone forget they had a pocketknife or a pair of clippers with them?
Kyle: No, but Billy did forget he was wearing steel-toed boots.
Rachel: (Sigh and shakes her head) What else can you expect from a drummer?
Matt: Spoken with a disdain worthy of a trumpet player.
Rachel: (Shakes off the compliment) How many times did he set off the metal detector?
Kyle: About a dozen times. It’s a good thing he remembered when he did, because they were about to run of out of things to strip.
Matt: (As he pulls on an imaginary rubber glove) And I think one of the ladies was itching to perform a cavity search.
Rachel: (Scrunches at mental image) So… was it smooth sailing after that?
Kyle: Not quite. After Mr. Security Risk came Katy with her bum leg.
Rachel: I thought she had an air cast.
Matt: She did, but apparently there’s metal supports or something mixed up in there.
Kyle: They had to take out the magic wand for her (starts pantomiming the waving motion of the security matron, throwing in some chirps and buzzes like a Jedi lightsaber). Though even that wasn’t working.
Matt: The lady’s saying “You need to lift your leg. It’s beeping.” And Katy’s going, ‘That’s not gonna’ happen.’”
Kyle: How’d she hurt her leg again?
Rachel: Oh, I was there at when it happened. It was a simple combination gone wrong: dry bar, not so dry Katy. She took a tumble the broke up both her leg and the party.
Matt: Of course, the security matrons weren’t too broken up by her condition. They put who through the ringer to maker sure she wasn’t hiding drugs or anything in her cast – as if some dealer would hire a one-legged mule.
Rachel: I understand why they err on too much security rather than too little, but you sometimes if it’s worth all the trouble when put into practice. I know it’s selfish, but
we want everybody else to go through the serious stuff but us. You can tell people are thinking: Hey! I’m cool. I swear. I’d say something if I wasn’t.
Kyle: If only all the terrorists in the world were as honest as you, Rachel. It’d be a kinder, gentler place.
Matt: Only you wouldn’t be there to enjoy it, because you’d be dead for telling the truth.
Rachel: Thanks, Matt. No utopia for me. Finish your story.
Matt: So anyway, after all that, Kyle and I breezed through security like we had nothing to hide.
Kyle: We didn’t. After waiting so long we’d already taken all the drugs and booze we’d previously planned on smuggling.
Matt: We had a head start on Billy, since he had to go and re-dress himself…
Kyle: Without his mother’s help this time.
Matt: And it was pretty easy to pass the cripple hobbling across the tarmac, and here we are (holds up ticket) in seats… Hey wait a minute!
Kyle: What?
Matt: We’re not in the right seats.
Kyle: Huh?
Rachel: (Nervous at their discovery) Um, yeah… I kinda changed seats because I wasn’t so thrilled about sitting next to the window.
(There’s a brief pause as Kyle and Matt take this information in. Upon comprehension, they exchange knowing glances)
Kyle: First flight?
Rachel: Pretty obvious, huh?
Matt: Don’t worry about it. I’m probably better off sitting near the window and the emergency exit.
Rachel: Why do you say that?
Matt: The airlines usually prefer a big strong, muscular guy to have this spot to man the emergency escape hatch, just in case.
Rachel: Just in case what?
Matt: It’s just a safety precaution that never really comes into play. They do it in all the airlines.
Rachel: So you’ve flown before?
Matt: Lots of times.
Matt: Me too. Statistically, it’s been proven that planes are safer than driving compared to miles traveled.
Rachel: What’s your source for that?
Kyle: “Scientific American” magazine… and my insurance rates.
Matt: That’s what you get for treating traffic signs as mere suggestions.
Kyle: Okay. I’ve had two noteworthy accidents and the last one wasn’t even my fault. (Grumbling) There was a design flaw…
Matt: I’m sure that excuse went over well with the traffic cop.
Rachel: (Playfully) Isn’t that just like an engineering student, blaming the machine and not the person behind the wheel.
Matt: (Directed at Kyle) All I know is I’m not letting you drive the car to Vegas.
Rachel: What?
Matt: It’s our tentative plan for our per diem money.
Rachel: (Makes an “explain more” expression with arched eyebrows)
Kyle: (Pulls an laminated airline booklet from a pocket beneath his seat). If you look at the United States, you see Las Vegas is close to Phoenix.
Rachel: No it isn’t.
Kyle: It’s one state over.
Matt: It’s like two, two and half inches on the map, tops.
Kyle: And if the team loses early in the tournament….
Matt: Like in the first round as all the sports journals predict.
Kyle: Then we’ll have plenty of time and university provided capital to try our luck.
Rachel: How are you supposed to make it across the desert?
(Kyle and Matt hesitate and look at each other)
Matt: We really haven’t thought it out that much.
Kyle: We only came up with the idea while waiting to go through security.
Matt: My plan was to spend it all on food. (Beckons imaginary waiter) Garcon? Steak please! Clap, clap. (Claps twice)
Rachel: You’ll blow though all your money in two days living like that.
Matt: (Dreamily) But what a fine two days it will be. (Contentedly sighs) And after that, I’ll just live off my good looks and the kindness of strangers.
Rachel: And when both fall through you’ll mooch off of us.
Matt: Probably. But it’s a plan.
Rachel: Between the two of you, can’t you think of something better to spend your money on?
Kyle: (In a correcting tone) The athletic department’s money.
Rachel: Whatever.
(Kyle returns the plane packet back beneath his seat. There is a pause while the two think, suddenly the two are simultaneous struck with the same thought)
Matt: Tattoos.
Kyle: Per diem tattoos.” (The two slap each other high fives over Rachel)
Rachel: You guys are pathetic (She starts out in a lecturing tone, but soon starts laughing).
Matt: (Gestures at window) Hey. It looks like the flight crew is getting on the plane.
(All three lean over, squeezing around each other, angling to get a better view. Suddenly all three react to something outside the line of sight. Rachel grows slightly serious as Matt and Kyle become bemused)
Kyle: Our pilot just tripped going up the stairs to the plane.
Matt: That’s a good sign.
Kyle: (Talking in a slurred, drunken tone) Oh man! That was a crazy night in the pilot’s lounge. Walking it off, walking it off.
Matt: Does anybody remember where I parked the plane?
Rachel: You guys are ridiculous.
Kyle: Are we? Didn’t you read about the pilots who were convicted for drunk flying?
Rachel: (Incredulously) What? An F.W.I., Flying while intoxicated?
Kyle: Well, someone intervened before the plane took off, but as a matter of intent, yeah.
Matt: (Waves his arms acting belligerent) I know my limits. I know how much I can drink. I know when to stop to make sure I don’t have a hangover impairing my performance.
Kyle: So are you hung over?
Matt: (Thinks it over) Well, since I’m technically still intoxicated, I guess not. Cheers! (He and Kyle clink imaginary glasses)
Rachel: Are you two about done?
Kyle: I bet the stewardesses keep the black coffee flowing all through the flight.
Rachel: Finished?
Kyle: I’ve got one more joke about drinking “literal kamikaze shooters” but I can let it go.
Rachel: And you?
Matt: On this subject, yes.
Rachel: Good.
Matt: I do have a question though… (Sees her temper starting to flare up again and waves her down) No, no. Not a funny “gotcha” question. A real one.
Rachel: (skeptically) Shoot.
Matt: I’m curious how someone your age got this far in life without taking off into the wild blue yonder, on family a vacation or class trip or something.
Rachel: (Hesitates before replying) It’s a long story.
Matt: (Gestures around) We’re not going anywhere.
Kyle: And the team hasn’t even gone through security yet, and you know they’ve all got switchblades.
Rachel: Alright… I never really traveled much before college. My family had rough experience driving to Disney World once. My brothers and I were all old enough to be territorial about our personal space and yet young enough to not to be mature about it. Imagine the whole clan crammed into an already overstuffed minivan with a history of breaking down. Throw in the fact we were driving on Memorial Day weekend and you’ve got a combination that will produce a “Lord of the Flies” scenario in any backseat, guaranteed. (Briefly lets that sink in before proceeding on, even more direly) And if the drive down sounds bad, imagine how much worse it would be on the way back when you didn’t have Mickey Mouse, roller coasters, or swimming pools to look forward to. We never really took any family trips after that. I don’t think my Mom ever quite forgave Dad. Even now, if you say the words “Road trip,” she develops a facial tic. (Cheers up slightly) It’s funny except for the fact it sometimes isn’t.
Matt: So being high-strung is genetic in your family? That explains a lot.
Rachel: (She threatens playfully) Watch it. (Drops the mock severity) Okay. Since you two are flight veterans, you should be able to answer a flight question for me. (The boys shrug to show they’re game, mumbling affirmatives) Is airline food as bad as they say?
Kyle: Well, I once heard of a flight of rugby players that ended up eating each other.
Matt: That was after their plane crashed into the Andes Mountains.
Rachel: (She sinks slightly into her chair at this news)
Kyle: True... Maybe we shouldn’t treat them as a representative case.
Matt: More serious, there are usually two schools of food preparation. It usually boils down to a question between quantity or quality.
Rachel: Let me guess: airline cooks flunked out of both schools.
Matt: (Thumbs at her) The girl is catching on.
Kyle: I think the plane guide had a sample menu. Let’s check it out. (All three pull at their passenger guides).
Matt: And while we’re looking, check to see if this bird has an in-flight movie.
Kyle: Like “Passenger 57?”
Matt: “Con Air”
Kyle: “Executive Decision”
Matt: “Air Force One”
Kyle: “Die Hard II”
Rachel: “Casablanca?”
Matt: What?
Rachel: There’s a plane at the end... (Kyle and Matt gawk for a second) And Nazis...? This game is stupid.
Kyle: Only because you don’t fully appreciate the cinematic quality of such big action, big budget action movie productions.
Matt: Jean Claude van Damme is a true actor’s actor. (Reconsiders) Or is that Steven Segal?
Kyle: Same thing.
(Kyle and Matt start pumping their arms in slow motion saying “Nooooo!” “Ruuuun!” until Rachel elbows both of them simultaneously)
Rachel: You two are full of it. Besides, the guide says there’s no movie on this flight.
Matt: Well, since we have them out, we shouldn’t miss an opportunity to go over the safety procedures digest.
Kyle: Do I get to make the hand motions (starts pointing to all the exits) while you read, or do I get to do the safety monologue?
Matt: I think we could do it more like a quiz.
Rachel: That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
(All three start to flip through the booklet)
Kyle: I like how happy the crashing people are in the illustrations. So calm, collected, not freaking out… It’s totally counter-intuitive.
Matt: Okay, here we go… (Speaking in authoritative voice) If you see the wings shaking… scream.
Rachel: (Sarcastically) Ha, ha. (Moves on) In case of a water landing, between here and Arizona…”
Kyle: Hey, I’ve got some ocean front property in Arizona!
Matt: Skip it. If you see a monster on the wing tearing out the plane’s electronics…
Rachel: It doesn’t say that.
Matt: Does to!
Rachel: Where?
Matt: On page 23B, (reaches over Rachel starts to flip pages for Kyle and Rachel and points) under “Nightmare at 20,000 feet” scenarios. See, Kyle has it.
Kyle: Well so it does. Wow, contingencies for both “Shatner” and “Lithogow” creatures. Not many people know the subtle differences between the two.
(Rachel shakes them off and the trio flips through more pages)
Rachel: I love it how they have both written and pictorial directions on how to work a safety belt.
Matt: It’s for cases like rocky turbulence.
Rachel: Turbulence never gets that bad, does it?
Matt: Well… To let you in on a secret, the little paper bags aren’t to hold all the candy from the piñata that the flight attendants bring out partway through the flight.
Kyle: If you ask me, the whole concept of seatbelts on an airplane as a safety feature is bunk.
Matt: What do you mean?
Kyle: Seatbelts in airplanes. They’re a bit like having sky divers wear helmets. It will protect you from the little things, but if something bigger comes along. (Shakes his head) Think basic physics. Newton: An object in motion stays in motion…
Rachel: . Until acted upon by an equal or greater force.
Kyle: (Makes smacking noise with his fist) The laws of physics can get pretty nasty when you corner them - you learn that in engineering.
Matt: I tried to warn him that ignorance was bliss, but no, no, Mr. Know-it-all wanted to keep learning, reading, eventually earn a higher paying job. (Dismissively) Loser.
Rachel: Right… (Flips some more pages then stops) Does “explosive depressurization” mean what I think it means?
Matt: If you mean something like the cargo doors opening and stuff being sucked out of the plane. Yeah.
(There is a pause as Rachel grows grim. Kyle pokes her in the ribs to get her attention)
Kyle: Can you imagine tubas flying out from 35,000 feet? (Makes a falling whistle sound)
Rachel: (Starts to smile weekly)
Matt: (Nudges Rachel) Technically, it’d be deeper. (Makes an octave lower, “ooohhh” sound)
(Now tickled, Rachel smiles more genuinely until interrupted by the sound of cell phone ringing. All three shift to hear better and Rachel pulls out her purse to retrieve her phone)
Matt: You have the school fight song as your ring tone?
Rachel: Yeah. I programmed it in myself.
Matt: How school-spirited of you.
Rachel: If I recall correctly, your ring tone is Funky Town.
Matt: Hey! Lips, Inc. are going to make a comeback.
Kyle: (Deadpans) Talk about it.
Matt: I don’t want to even hear from you Mr. Crazy in Love ringer.
Kyle: (Silently holds up his hands in mock defeat)
Rachel: (Finally pulls her phone from her bag) Hello? (Starts pausing for every unheard reply) Oh hi Dad. No, we haven’ taken off yet. I’m doing okay, considering.
Matt: I guess those all those pretty purple pills must be kicking in.
Kyle: We may be on the ground, but she’s already flying high in the sky.
Rachel: Oh, it’s nothing, Dad. Some guys behind me are talking about… their mother. Yes, drug abuse is very, very sad. Of course, I say “No” to drugs.
Kyle: Oh tell the truth about how you pop Valium like a Pez addict pops… Pez. (He pauses even as Rachel twists to better tune them out) That wasn’t so smooth, was it?
Matt: No. You should have thought that through another second or two. Follow through is important.
Rachel: (Shifts position to better tune the boys out) Changing the subject, I got through security okay.
Matt: Tell him about all those pocketknives you’ve got secreted on your person.
Rachel: Shh!
Kyle: Don’t make me get the Air Marshal.
Rachel: No. It’s nothing Dad. (Looks pointedly at Kyle and Matt as she describes them) It’s just two immature twelve-year-olds who are making pests of themselves.
Kyle: Did you hear what she called us?
Rachel: (Waves to silence him) No, I don’t need a lecture, Dad. (Rolls her eyes) Yes, I remember puberty is a troublesome period to go through.
Kyle: Ain’t that the truth.
Matt: Acne, body odor…
Kyle: No longer being able to throw rocks at girls you had a crush on.
Matt: Having to fill out those stupid “Do you like me – yes or no” notes instead.
Kyle: Throwing rocks was much more satisfying.
Rachel: So how’s Mom doing?
Matt: Hey Kyle?
Kyle: What?
Matt: Do you see any brown liquid pouring of out your side of the plane?
Kyle: (Strains his neck to see across the aisle) Nope. Just blackish oil.
Matt: As long as it’s not fuel. We need that.
(Rachel looks about ready to start slugging her friends before she is interrupted by the intercom)
Offstage announcer: (In a cool, seemingly sedated voice) This is your chief flight attendant speaking. The crew has finished their preliminaries and we’ll be taking off shortly. We’d like to remind you to have all cell phones, music players, and other wireless devices turned off prior to takeoff, to ensure the safety of everyone aboard. Thank you.
Rachel: (Hand over the receiver again) What happens if your phone is still on while the plane takes off?
Kyle: Potentially, tower communications get mixed up and the plane crashes.
Rachel: (Expression bulges briefly at this news. Continues phone conversation hurriedly) Look Dad, I’ve gotta go.
Matt: We’d be close to the ground when we started to plummet. We wouldn’t fall that far.
Rachel: (More hurried) Tell Mom I love her. And don’t call me, I’ll call you. Yeah… Love you, too. Bye. (Slinks back into her seat with a long sigh)
Kyle: You really shouldn’t worry that much, Rachel. There are lots of reasons to be positive. Like the fact our plane has a smiley face sun on the tale. That means we’ll be fine.
Matt: Or that it will be especially ironic if we do crash.
Kyle: There are just some phrases you don’t ever want to be associated with should your name pop up on the evening news.
Matt: (In serious newscaster voices) Like “ironic.”
Kyle: “Tragic”
Matt: “On a somber note…”
Rachel: Dismembered.
Matt: Good one.
Rachel: No. That’s what I’m just about ready to do to the two of you. I figure that’s the only way I’ll be able to cram you two into the overhead compartment.
Kyle: Calm down, calm down. Two things: One, while I know you can take me, I’m pretty sure you can’t take Matt. Two, I know we’ve been tweaking you a bit, but you seem to have more than just first flight jitters. Is there something else troubling you?
Rachel: (Slow to respond) When I first was growing up, I wanted to be a pilot.
Matt: So no being a nurse or mommy?
Rachel: No, I went through those phases too. I even briefly recall wanting to be a “fairy dancer princess,” but I moved onto other aspirations.
Kyle: So what happened?
Rachel: PBS.
(Kyle and Matt look confused)
Rachel: One night my oldest brother was foolishly left in charge, as if his slight head start in years made up for his deficit in intelligence and maturity. To lord over us, he had us all sit on the couch and watch what he wanted to watch. There was some special called, “Why Planes Burn.” As you can imagine, all those slow-motion crashes had quite an effect on a young, would-be pilot. You didn’t have to be very old to see the fireballs and subsequent wreckage to realize the captains didn’t walk away from crashes very often – or at least that was my impression.
Matt: Another person scarred by educational television.
Kyle: It almost makes the dancer-fairy-princess job look more practical.
Rachel: So anyway, even as I moved on to lawyer, banker, and eventually music teacher, some of those old images stayed burned in my head. I hadn’t thought about them for a long while, but this trip stirred some of them back up.
Matt: Rachel, look. (Reaches out to put his arm around her) We’re hard on you sometimes, but it’s all in good fun. We don’t mean any harm.
Kyle: (Also stretches out to touch her hand) And if you think about it, we’ve systematically prepared you for every possible contingency that could go wrong. Should things start to look sticky, you’ll be able to laugh it off by saying, “Hey! We already joked about that.”
Rachel: So you’re trying to tell me all this all this jesting was on purpose.
(Matt and Kyle reply quickly and on top of each other)
Kyle: Sure.
Matt: Maybe.
Rachel: (Smiles) I’m not buying it, but I’m not going to punish you two either.
(There is a pause while all three reposition themselves)
Matt: I’ve got an idea on how to make it up to you.
Rachel: (Makes a “I can’t wait to hear this” look)
Matt: When the team loses, maybe you can join us on our trip to Vegas. It’ll be perfect! Kyle can count cards, I’ll be the muscle, and you can play the sweat chick who hangs around and looks good.
Rachel: (Makes a slightly exaggerated game of pondering the offer) One condition.
Matt: Anything.
Rachel: (Smiles) I get to drive the getaway vehicle.
(All three laugh)
Kyle: Wait. We’re still missing something. (Leans over to call down the aisle) Stewardess!
Rachel: No one says “stewardess” anymore. It’s “flight attendant.”
Matt: Or “Lady on the plane.”
Kyle: Apparently “stewardess” still works ‘cause she’s coming our way.
(Flight attendant comes out)
Flight attendant: We’ll be taking off in about five minutes. Is there anything I can get you before then?
Kyle: (Gestures at Rachel) She’s never flown before.
Matt: (Catches on) Yeah. Get this girl some wings!
Flight attendant: Traditionally, we don’t give them out until the after flight has concluded.
Rachel: Lady, I can assure you, I’ve already earned my wings.
(Kyle and Matt make pouty, pleading faces)
Flight attendant: Whatever you say. I’ll be back shortly.
Kyle: This is going to be great. You’re going to have a good time. Taking off is the best part.
Matt: (In a sardonic voice) Landing is nice too.
Rachel: Shut up. (And then she grins)
(Rachel starts whistling, “Off we go, into the wild blue yonder” as Kyle and Matt join in the best they can as the lights start to fade and the curtain – or whatever - drops)
