Now

THE PLAYERS
Cat: stage left—sitting on hind legs, trembling a touch from the shock of the fall.
Snake: stage right—half-coiled around faux-stump and water bowl.

THE STAGE
40-gallon glass terrarium (needs a wash) upon gunmetal shelf in open closet.
Cat and Snake not seeming to realize Cat can leave by the way he fell in—the mesh having bent in in a (seemingly) obfuscatory manner.

__

Curtain up.

CAT: I apologize.

Rest assured, I will not dine on you, no.

Was only chilling there for the heat.

Y’know, from the heat lamp.

SNAKE: It is quite the lamp.

But this is certainly quite the violation.

Cat sneezing (cute sneeze, bubblegum-pitched, MEWCHOO).

CAT: I’m sorry, the musk, it’s sort of uhh unusual—

SNAKE: How would you like it, bum?

If I invaded your abode, like some…

some brownshirt?!

CAT: My abode—uhh the apartment—contains your abode.

Wouldn’t you say?

SNAKE: Stop bragging!

CAT: What?

Am I out of line?

SNAKE: Transgressor! Derelict!

CAT: Oh come on. Names, they do us nothing.

Why don’t we let’s make the most of this.

Snake hissing (sounds like a gas leak).

CAT: We hardly know each other.

After all.

SNAKE: Which is by design!

CAT: But we have an opportunity here—

if not an outright responsibility!

SNAKE: Shut the hell up!

CAT: Don’t you want to uhh make history?

SNAKE: Fuck history! What I want is to live in…

in stillness! Lounging.

I don’t want to think…

don’t want to have to think.

Not everyone’s cut out for a life of thought, y’know.

Like I’m a snake.

Water, mice, the lamp.

Wrapping myself around the occasional tattooed arm—

that’s good enough—that’s more than good enough for me.

In fact, I am quite fulfilled—

and then some!

…which is to say, this life of mine is already too much, at times!

CAT: OK, OK.

Sheesh.

SNAKES: Keep your verdicts to yourself!

Cat yawning (like a little [human] baby).

CAT: How long you think it’s been?

Since I uhh fell in?

SNAKE: Like 30 seconds, at most.

CAT: But who’s counting?

Cat laughing softly, briefly.
Then a beat.
Unsteady silence.

SNAKE: You want some water?

CAT: What’s that?

SNAKE: I said,

do you want some water?

CAT: Oh.

Yeah, OK.

Thanks.

Cat rising from hind legs, stretching to the fullest extent possible, walking pensive three inches to water bowl.
Cat staring into murky water for a moment.
Cat sipping: ncha ncha ncha ncha ncha.

SNAKE: Pretty good, right?

Cat quitting his sips, but with neck remaining in water bowl.

CAT: Um. Yeah.

Yeah, it’s not bad.

SNAKE: Not bad?

Cat craning neck back to normal cat-neck height.
[Remember! Cat is WAY closer to Snake now! -Ed.]

CAT: I mean.

It’s fine.

SNAKE: Just fine?

CAT: It’s OK.

SNAKE: So is it fine? or is it OK?

CAT: It’s fine.

It’s OK.

SNAKE: Uh huh.

Beat.

CAT: I mean, it sucks shit, dude.

Like the worst water I’ve had in my life.

Not a long life, I’m little.

But I’ve had plenty of water.

Don’t know how you drink this sludge all day.

[Beat.]

Is [ROOMMATE] taking care of you OK?

Like…

he should be changing this more.

SNAKE: You are the rudest being I’ve ever come across.

Just speechless.

CAT: I can see why you’re upset.

Why I’ve upset you.

[Beat.]

You’re right, I’m sorry.

But it’s coming from a place of uhh.

Well.

Genuine concern?

SNAKE: I don’t want to hear it!

CAT: It’s like when your friend tells you you stink.

Like, stink in the wrong way.

SNAKE: Stop talking!

CAT: Stings for a bit.

But your buddy was helping you live your best life.

Undeniably.

You never know, your future mate could show up at any time—and if you’re stinky?

I mean bad stinky? what then?

So, it’s really from a place of love.

SNAKE: Love? Love? Oh that’s fucking rich.

That’s real fucking rich.

CAT: And why do you have to be so, like…

like condescending?

SNAKE: You’ve belittled me since second one! of your stay.

CAT: Can’t win with you.

SNAKE: So you admit it.

CAT: What?

SNAKE: That you’re trying to win.

CAT: Cat-Jesus!

This is what I’m saying!

SNAKE: I loathe you.

CAT: Why!

What did I do!

Why live that way!

SNAKE: Intruder!

CAT: OK!

I’ll go back to my corner, then.

Await my rescue.

SNAKE: It’s not your corner.

CAT: [Under his breath] Ohmycatgod…

Fine fine, I’ll go back to thee corner.

SNAKE: You do that.

CAT: I will!

Cat does so, backing up (orange caboose).

Rescue will come eventually. (But time for our friends here—let’s just say it feels pretty funny!)

Curtain falls.

FIN

__________

Z.H. Gill lives in East Hollywood, CA, with his cat Hans. He edits Burial Magazine.