Writing Challenge – Pattern Breaking

Challenge: Pattern establishing and breaking is theatrical.

Set up a pattern and break it. Break our hearts or our bellies when you do.

*Rule #24*: Establish ritual through repetition. Give the audience a ritual or repetitive pattern with which to identify. Create shared history for the audience. Once a ritual is established, you can speak volumes through small variations on a theme. Art is in the details. There’s nothing better than feeling part of an inside joke.

WALKING THE DOG

DAD, 70s, enters, being led by a DOG on a leash.

They walk at a steady pace – not too fast, not too slow.

DAD is dressed for spring.

                          DAD

Nice day, isn’t it, son?  We might stay out a little longer than normal today, what do you think?

DAD and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

DAD, now dressed for summer, is led on by the DOG.

                          DAD

I know it’s a little warm but it’s important we get you some exercise.

I suppose it’s exercise for me, too.

On we go.

DAD and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

DAD, now dressed for autum, is led on by the DOG.

DAD is moving slower.

                          DAD

Not so fast, son.  I’m feeling a little slow today.

DOG adjusts his speed accordingly.

DAD and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

DAD, now dressed for winter, is led on by the DOG.

They are much slower still.

At one point, DAD stops walking.

DOG comes back to check on him.

DAD catches his breath and begins walking again.

DAD and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

DAD, now dressed for spring again, is led on by the DOG.

Things seem to be going fine, though slow, but then DAD stops, confused.

                          DAD

Where are we, son?

DOG comes back to check on him.

                          DAD

Oh.  There’s home.  We’re OK.  How did I forget that for a moment?  It’s a good thing you know where home is.

DAD and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

DAD, now dressed for summer again, is led on by the DOG.

Things seem to be going fine, though slow, but then DAD loses his footing and falls.

DOG comes back to check on him.

                          DAD

I’m OK, but I think you need to get Mom.

DOG heads off.

DAD waits.

In a few moments, DOG returns with MOM, 60s-70s.  Either home was really close by, or she was watching and saw the fall.

MOM helps DAD up and DOG follows them off.

Lights shift.

MOM, dressed for autumn again, is led on by the DOG.

                          MOM

Good boy.  We’ll visit Dad this afternoon.  Won’t that be fun?  He’ll be happy to see you.

MOM and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights shift.

SON, 40s-50s, dressed for winter again, is led on by the DOG.

                          SON

Merry Christmas, eh, boy?

There’ll be cookies when we get back.  Mom’s been busy.  Glad you don’t mind me taking you out.  I can use the exercise.

Can we make a deal that you won’t eat your own poop this time?  Or anyone else’s?  Can we just generally call a moratorium on poop eating?

When I visit Dad later, I want to be able to have a good report and not lie so much this time.

He always asks about you, you know.

Apparently you are also “son.”

I didn’t eat my poop when I was younger, but I think you’re still better behaved than I was.

Maybe it’s the leash.

MOM and DOG walk off the other side of the stage.

Lights fade.