An Evening at Gods
An Evening at GODsAn Evening at GODs
Stephen King
A one minit play, 1990
DARK STAGE. Then a spotlight hits a papier-mache globe, spinning all by itself
in the middle of darkness. Little by little, the stage lights COME UP, and we
see a bare-stage representation of a living room: an easy chair with a table
beside it (there’s an open bottle of beer on the table), and a console TV across
the room. There’s a picnic cooler-full of beer under the table. Also, a great
many empties. GOD is feeling pretty good. At stage left, there’s a door.
GOD – a big guy with a white beard – is sitting in the chair, alternately
reading a book (When Bad Things Happen to Good People) and watching the tube. He
has to crane whenever he wants to look at the set, because the floating globe
(actually hung on a length of string, I imagine) is in his line of vision.
There’s a sitcom on TV. Every now and then GOD chuckles along with the
laugh-track.
There is a knock at the door.
GOD (big amplified voice)
Come in! Verily, it is open unto you!
The door opens. In comes ST. PETER, dressed in a snazzy white robe. He’s also
carrying a briefcase.
GOD
Peter! I thought you were on vacation!
ST. PETER
Leaving in half an hour, but I thought I’d bring the papers for you to sign.
How are you, GOD?
GOD
Better. I should know better than to eat those chili peppers. They burn me at
both ends. Are those the letters of transmission from hell?
ST. PETER
Yes, finally. Thank GOD. Excuse the pun.
He removes some papers from his briefcase. GOD scans them, then holds out his
hand impatiently, ST PETER has been looking at the floating globe. He looks
back, sees GOD is waiting, and puts a pen in his out-stretched hand. GOD
scribbles his signature. As he does, ST. PETER goes back to gazing at the globe.
ST. PETER
So Earth’s still there, Huh? After All these years.
GOD hands the papers back and looks up at it. His gaze is rather irritated.
GOD
Yes, the housekeeper is the most forgetful bitch in the universe.
An EXPLOSION OF LAUGHTER from the TV. GOD cranes to see. Too late.
GOD
Damm, was that Alan Alda?
ST. PETER
It may have been, sir – I really couldn’t see.
GOD
Me, either.
He leans forward and crushes the floating globe to powder.
GOD (inmensely satisfied)
There. Been meaning to do that for a long time. Now I can see the TV..
ST. PETER looks sadly at the crushed remains of the earth.
ST. PETER
Umm... I believe that was alan Alda’s world, GOD.
GOD
So? (Chuckles at the TV) Robin Williams! I LOVE Robin Williams!
ST. PETER
I believe both Alda and Williams Were on it when you..umm...passed Judgement,
sir.
GOD
Oh, I’ve got all the videotapes. No problem. Want a beer?
As ST. PETER takes one, the stage-lights begin to dim. A spotlight come up on
the remains on the globe.
ST. PETER
I actually sort of liked that one, GOD – Earth, I mean.
GOD
It wasn’t bad, but there’s more where that came from. Now – let’s Drink to your
vacation!
They are just shadows in the dimness now, although it’s a little easier to see
GOD, because there’s a faint nimbus of light around his head. They clink
bottles. A roar of laughter from the TV.
GOD
Look! It’s Richard Pryor! That guy kills me! I suppose he was...
ST. PETER
Ummm... yessir.
GOD
Shit. (Pause) Maybe I better cut Down on my drinking. (Pause) Still... It WAS in
the way.
Fade to black, except for the spotlight on the ruins of the floating globe.
ST. PETER
Yessir.
GOD (muttering)
My son got back, didn’t he?
ST. PETER
Yessir, some time ago.
GOD
Good. Everything’s hunky-dory, then.
THE SPOTLIGHT GOES OUT.
(Author’s note: GOD’S VOICE should be as loud as possible.)
Stephen King, An Evening at Gods
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