Dogs of War by Keefe Healy

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This Play is the copyright of the Author and must not be Performed, Copied or Sold without the Author's prior consent


In darkness the sound of clips being slammed into pistols is heard.
Lights rise.

PRIVATE SMITH, PRIVATE JONES, and COLONEL MOSELY stand around a table
holding pistols.

They wear one piece flight suits, and gas masks. No skin is exposed.

MOSELY stomps on the floor they all widen their stance. He stomps
again they make a triangle and holster their pistols.

MOSELY: Attention! (All place hands on guns.)

MOSELY:Shaft infiltration! (All pull weapons, drop to one knee and
point the at the sky.)

MOSELY:Tunnel breech! (All point weapons toward the floor.)

MOSELY: Detection!(They all point weapons at their own heads.)

MOSLEY:Dissension!(Mosely points weapon at Smith. Smith points weapon
at Jones. Jones points weapon at Mosely.)

MOSLEY:Mutiny! (Jones and Smith point weapons at Mosely who
immediately holsters his pistol and takes out a hand grenade.)

MOSELY: Conduct unbecoming! (Mosely again takes out his weapon He aims
it at Smiths Head. Jones points one at his stomach. Smith points
weapon to his head.)

MOSELY: At ease.

Jones and Mosely put their guns away Smith keeps his at his head and
stares up at the sky. Mosely stomps to get his attention. They get in
a triangle. Mosely stomps again. They begin doing jumping jacks. They
do ten and as they finish the other two go into squat thrusts. Smith
stomps he is still standing as he moves center. He looks up and
reaches to take off his mask. Mosely notices as he gets it just off
his face. He pulls his weapon and holds it at Smith. Who now has his
mask off.

SMITH: (takes a deep breath.) I thought….....

MOSELY: (Taking off his mask.) Put your mask back on soldier.

SMITH: Thought there was….

MOSELY: Put your mask back on soldier!

SMITH: Something.

MOSELY: I gave you an order!

SMITH: I thought there was something… thought I saw something.

MOSELY: Saw what Private?

SMITH: Light.

MOSELY: Bullshit! Put your mask back on, that's an order.

SMITH: But sir I thought…..

MOSELY: I gave you an order, put your mask back on private!

SMITH: Permission to speak freely sir?

MOSELY: You have something you want to say?

SMITH: Yes sir, I saw…..

MOSELY: I didn't give you permission private. You do not speak
unless I give you permission.

SMITH: I asked.

MOSELY: Denied!

SMITH: But sir.

MOSELY: I didn't see anything private, it is impossible that you saw
anything. Your request is denied, put your mask back on and fall in!
(Smith stands.) Now!

SMITH: May I ask a question sir?

MOSELY: Denied, again denied!

SMITH: But sir!

MOSELY: But sir, bullshit. I will not tolerate insubordination
Private. This is not time for questions.

SMITH: Yes sir!

MOSELY: Put your mask back on. Fall into line, now! (Jones looks up.)
Eyes front and center!

JONES: Yes Sir!

MOSELY: There is nothing to see. A good soldier does not let tricks of
the eye distract them from their duty. If that's all put your god damn
mask back on. (Smith stands.) This is insubordination, you know what
that is don't you?

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: You know what the punishment is?

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: And you do it anyway?

SMITH: Its just that sir…...

MOSELY: I don't want to hear your god damn question.

SMITH: I thought maybe someone…..

MOSELY: Thought?

SMITH: Yes sir, thought maybe there was someone….

MOSELY: There was no one! Do you hear me, no one! Get a hold of
yourself, regain your discipline soldier, put it out of your mind and
fall in, that's an order!

SMITH: I can't sir.

MOSELY: Why not?

SMITH: I can't move.

MOSELY: Are you crippled?

SMITH: I can't move sir!

MOSELY: You disgust me private! Your service up to this point has been
just short of exemplary, now you see something that's not there and
are frozen by it?

SMITH: Permission to ask a question sir.

MOSELY: How about I ask you some questions private. Tell me, for what
purpose do you wear that mask?

SMITH: Protection sir.

MOSELY: Protection from what?

SMITH: The air sir.

MOSELY: What about the air, Private?

SMITH: The air is poison.

MOSELY: So what are you breathing?

SMITH: Poison sir.

MOSELY: Are you trying to kill yourself?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Are you trying to endanger me?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Well you are. While we are talking poisons are entering your
body, through the mouth attaching to mucus membranes working their way
into the bloodstream…

SMITH: I don't feel anything sir.

MOSELY: Does that mean its not happening?

SMITH: It's just…...

MOSELY: Perhaps you need a demonstration? Private Jones, remove your
mask. Take deep breaths.(Jones removes her mask.) Deeper. We will use
private Jones here as a sample. She will take deeper breaths than the
two of us so that we might see any ill effects of the air on her
before we see them on ourselves.

SMITH: She doesn't have to…

MOSELY: Oh she doesn't. I say she does. Private Jones, run in place.
(She starts running) Why don't you go ahead and ask your question
now Smith.

SMITH: I was just….I just thought…...

MOSELY: Thought what? Speak God damn it you wanted to say something
say it! Faster Jones!

SMITH: I thought I saw something!

MOSELY: You already said that! Faster Jones! She's starting to look a
little red in the face Private, perhaps you should try and organize
your thoughts a little bit.

SMITH: Please, let her stop.

MOSELY: Not until I hear what's so god damn important that you would
be willing to risk all our lives for it!

SMITH: I'm not making her do that?

MOSELY: But you are keeping an eye on her, aren't you, checking for
slight changes, little bleeding in the corner of the eye, maybe from
the ear. Let me ask you, how deeply are you breathing?

SMITH: Let her stop, she didn't do anything all right. I'll run,
I'll do it, watch me, it's my question.

MOSELY: I don't want you to run Private. I don't want to hear your
god damn question. I want you to follow orders!

SMITH: I will, just let her stop.

MOSELY: Will you? I thought you couldn't move. But if you want her
to stop? Private Jones! Stop…. breathing! (She holds her breath) Is
that better?

SMITH: Leave her out of it!

MOSELY: Are you giving me an order? Are you? What am I?

SMITH: A Colonel.

MOSELY: And what are you?

SMITH: A private.

MOSELY: A piece of shit, and I'll tell you she's not looking good.
(Smith puts his mask on. Mosely takes it off him and throws it on the
floor.) Bullshit, your gonna ask your question. And she isn't going
to take a single breath until you do. You got it?

SMITH: It has nothing to do with her.

MOSELY: Of course it does.

SMITH: I didn't mean for it to.

MOSELY: Tough shit! Ask the god damn question.

SMITH: Are they coming for us?

MOSELY: Breath Private. (Jones takes a deep breath and nearly
collapses.) That's your question? Are they coming for us! You ignore
my orders, let her go through that so you can ask if they are coming
for us?

SMITH: That's what I want to know.

MOSELY: You want out Private?

SMITH: Its not that sir…

MOSELY: If I were Private Jones I would be deeply offended. Are you
offended private?

JONES: Yes sir.

MOSELY: Do you realize private, there is a good chance that she is
the last woman there is. The last whole woman, the last woman who's
skin is not seeping off her covered in blisters caused by gases and
toxins, that we didn't even know existed, created in some lab by
some little fucking fanatic in a country we can only hope is now a
steaming pile of shit! That you are the last man not vaporized in a
blast or who's necessary equipment isn't shriveled into a little
putrid lump of puss? Has any of this occurred to you?

SMITH: No sir!

MOSELY: What the hell kind of man are you? After all this time you
should be praying for war, praying for all of it to be over so you can
get down to the purpose for which you were put here!

SMITH: Yes sir!

MOSELY: If I were you I would be begging to never see the light of day
again. I would be begging me to give the order, sick in my stomach
from wanting so badly to execute my objectives.

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: But you aren't me are you?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: You want out don't you?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Well then what do you want?

SMITH: I want to believe they are all dead sir. That they are steaming
piles of shit, that the whole world is festering under radiation and
gas.

MOSELY: Do you?

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: So that you and Private Jones can get underway, is that it?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Why then? Why!

SMITH: I have my reasons sir. (He stands to put his mask on Mosely
stops him.)

MOSELY: I asked you a question and you will answer it. Why do you wish
for war?

SMITH: Because it's an inevitability.

MOSELY: Bullshit.

SMITH: Because I want to start a new world population under the
directives laid out in our mission by our commanders sir!

MOSELY: Bullshit.

SMITH: Because I'm scared sir!

MOSELY: Scared? Scared of what Private, are you scared of Private
Jones?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: What then?

SMITH: Nothing sir. I wish for war so I can begin repopulating with
Private Jones as soon as you feel it's time to give that order.

MOSELY: Is that right?

SMITH: Yes sir. I wish to complete my objectives sir.

MOSELY: Is that right? You feel it private, in your belly?

SMITH: Everywhere sir.

MOSELY: Like pain, like a hunger?

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: Run Private!

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: Hit the deck.

SMITH: Yes sir.

MOSELY: Faster! Is it gone?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Scream for me.

SMITH: Yes sir. (Screams.)

MOSELY: You don't feel scared?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Fear and doubt are a result of lack of discipline. Do you lack
discipline?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Is it gone?

SMITH: No sir.

MOSELY: Well what are you going to do about that?

SMITH: I don't know sir.

MOSELY: You got an itch what do you do?

SMITH: Scratch it sir.

MOSELY: So?

SMITH: Permission to repopulate sir!

MOSELY: Denied!

SMITH: Sir?

MOSELY: Denied Private, there will be no repopulating until I give the
order. I want you to take that hunger you feel Private and leash it,
put a muzzle on it and lock it in a cage in the deepest part of your
bowels. Use it to fortify your discipline. When I can see that you
have it locked tight under your command then I will perhaps let you
unleash it. But if you think you can be insubordinate to me and then
all of the sudden I'm just going to give the order, I'm going to
tell her to disrobe, to….unleash herself, to let you, a worthless
piece of shit touch her. Bullshit! She is a soldier, Private, a
trained, disciplined and… finely tuned… soldier. You won't lay a
hand on her until you are the same. I will tell you when you are man
enough. Piece of shit like you wouldn't know what to do with himself
much less her. You make me sick, the thought of you, pathetically
fumbling around…...(He starts to convulse.)
You ask me permission, like you were asking me to take a shit! I
can't stand the thought of you….. needle dick piece of shit!

Smith grabs Jones by the face and kisses her.

MOSELY: Bullllllllshit! (He reaches for a weapon, convulses and falls
unconscious on the floor)

SMITH: I didn't mean to.

JONES: You didn't?

SMITH: No…it was…

JONES: An accident?

SMITH: I couldn't listen to him anymore. I couldn't watch him do
that, do that to you.

JONES: It was me you were worried about?

SMITH: In part.


JONES: In part, but not entirely.

SMITH: He…..he was….

JONES: He was what?

SMITH: I couldn't listen to him anymore, talk about you like that.

JONES: What did he say about me that I need you to protect me from?

SMITH: You know.

JONES: I'm a excellent soldier, finely tuned. It was you he called a
piece of shit.

SMITH: All right, I couldn't stand to listen to him shouting in my
face, I just needed a minute.

JONES: To do what?

SMITH: Not have someone shouting in my face.

JONES: Poor son of a bitch.

SMITH: Don't talk about him like that.

JONES: Like what?

SMITH: Like that, it's not his fault.

JONES: No?

SMITH: He wasn't wrong, I'm wrong. He's right, there wasn't
anything. I just need a minute, a minute to…..

JONES: You knew what you were doing though didn't you?

SMITH: Yes.

JONES: You knew what it'd do to him?

SMITH: Yes. Please, just…..

JONES: So why do it? It's not his fault, he was right…

SMITH: I couldn't help myself.

JONES: Really?

SMITH: I don't know what else to say. Please just let me….

JONES: (Points her gun at him.) Think of something.

[end of extract]

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