The Sun by Greg Klein

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This Play is the copyright of the Author and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent

Cast Breakdown

ANDY ZENGER, early 30s, editor of “The Sun,” a sharp, cleaver man who
has lost his way, turning his disgust with his success into failures,
and has just hit rock bottom.

ANGELA CROTON, late 30s, very pretty, cynical woman from a rural
area. Not book smart, but wise, except perhaps in matters of love.

HANK LAMMARR, 50s, open ethnicity, publisher of “The Sun, very much a
suit.

BRYANT WILLIAMS, early 20s, African-American intern from a nice
suburb of Baltimore. The son in “The Sun,” a Harvard journalism
student on a hunt for information about his father's political fall
from grace.

MATT BURKE, late 30s, good old boy editor-reporter with a dark side
underneath. Charming, funny and probably racist and sexist too. A heck
of a good reporter, but morally challenged.

Act ONE, Scene ONE

Hagerstown, Maryland, 1997.

An office. Messy. It is a newspaper editor's office and all around it
are remnants of old proof sheets and the finished products, some
yellowing from age. There are book shelves along the walls, with
awards and bound volumes and stacks of old papers. A three-quarter
wrap around desk, a study old oak wood, dominates the room. A
large-screen computer sits on the wrap around part of the desk. The
main desk is mostly neat but the area around the computer is a mess,
with the proof sheets and press releases and some fast food trash
scattered around.

Andy Zenger, a dishevelled man who fits the office, walks in carrying
a tray of coffee and a bag of fast-food breakfast. He sets them on the
desk. The clock on the wall says 6 a.m. Andy leaves and returns with a
briefcase which he also places on the desk. Quickly he takes a disk
out of the case and pops it into the computer. We hear computer
noises. He also pulls out a stack of papers and places them next to
the computer, clearing out the old papers in the process. He dries up
on a towel from same desk drawer, and then moves to a corner of the
office where he reveals a small closet filled with shirts, ties, coats
and pants. Quickly he changes into a suit and then cleans the office.
Finally he settles into a balancing act of computer, coffee and
biscuit.

At 6:30 a.m. as a second person enters the office. Her name is Angela
Croton. She's bit older than Andy but looks like a women in her 30s. A
good looking woman in her 30s. Except her voice reflexes her 20 years
of smoking. She immediately begins taking pages from Andy to a
paginating board outside Andy's office in the main space where she
does paste-up work on them.

The outer area is close enough that the two can talk freely.

ANGELA: Jesus Christ, not you again.

ANDY: I work here remember?

ANGELA: I'm trying to forget. And anyway, since when do I have to
deal with you this early?

ANDY: I don't have a choice right now, what's wrong with you?

ANGELA: Maybe I'm tired of your drama.

ANDY: Says the passive-aggressive pot.

ANGELA: What does that mean?

ANDY: C'mon, I know you're not stupid. You just dumb yourself down to
be with him.

ANGELA: That's where you lose me Andy. Your anger that you carry
around at a guy who used to be your friend.

ANDY: He's not my friend. I'm beginning to wonder if her ever was.

ANGELA: Well, he's my friend, so it isn't going to help matters if
you ...

ANDY: He isn't a friend. He manipulates. He hides behind his nice-guy
'I'm just a country boy facade.'

ANGELA: Do you have something to say? Something new?

ANDY: Yes, what the hell was last night about?

ANGELA: Last night?

ANDY: Stop doing that!

ANGELA: We were having a drink. That's what people do when they when
they like each other. If you didn't run off like a child who didn't
get his way, you could of had one too. Or were you just rushing home
to your wife?

ANDY: I had something to tell you.

ANGELA: What?

ANDY: Nevermind. I brought you coffee.

ANGELA: I don't need that Hardee's crap. You drop out of the coffee
fund again?

ANDY: No, but I should. I paid $17 dollars last month. $17! And when
it's my turn to buy and I forget, the press guys block my parking
space and won't let me park til I buy. Fucking addicts. I think it'd
be cheaper if we just pop white crosses.

ANGELA: Is that what makes you ornery?

ANDY: I think you know why.

ANGELA: I might know but I don't haveta like.

ANDY: Sure, there's some logic for you.

ANGELA: Don't mock me. And stay away from the paste up.

ANDY: I know. Union rules.

ANGELA: Were you using my knife?

ANDY: No, I brought my own.

ANGELA: I'da thought you'd be too busy writing the editorial to be
messing up my pages.

ANDY: I just wanted to get a jump on things. Get some pages out of
the way after Friday's fiasco. Editorial?

ANGELA: Shit, honey, I thought you knew. Johnny Case quit this
weekend. Got an offer to work for Lighthouse.

ANDY: Just like that?

ANGELA: He slipped his letter into Hank's office bout an hour after
deadline.

ANDY: No notice and he splits in the middle of the night. What is he,
the damn Colts?

ANGELA: The Colts left 15 years ago. Git over it.

ANDY: You can't trust anyone in this business.

ANGELA: Maybe they don't want to trust their lives to the unknown.

ANDY: Do you understand anything about newspapers?

ANGELA: I understand people. They're scared.

ANDY: They're cowards.

ANGELA: Don't call them that. They're my friends. Used to be yours
too. Right now we know nuthin and that makes people scared.

ANDY: Hank said he didn't expect change.

ANGELA: Hank's just tryin to prevent panic.

ANDY: It isn't working. We can take bets who's next. It could replace
the death pool. Anyway, I don't seem to be doing so well with Ronald
Reagan.

ANGELA: You left a few papers in your time.

ANDY: So?

ANGELA: So, I've been here 10 years and I've seen 10 editors. You
newspaper types are weird. I reckon if someone called from California
or Kansas or some other place I've only seen on a map and offered you
more money, you'd scatter too. Actually, I got a $20 says you're
next.

ANDY: I'm not leaving here. You know that. I've married the area.
Besides, I think there's newspaper execs all over the country that
have nightmares about the dramatic lengths I went to, to burn my
bridges in this business. Then they wake up in the morning and resolve
never to offer me another job. Are you sleeping with him?

ANGELA: We're friends. Get over that too.

ANDY: You must be sleeping with someone these days.

ANGELA: Nope, not even my husband.

ANDY: That's why I asked.

ANGELA: It is too early in the morning for the past Andy, don't start
this. And don't you take yer frustrations out on me!

ANDY: You're the one who works with knives. But it seems like all you
have for me these days is don'ts.

ANGELA: I got one more. Don't kill yourself for this. It ain't worth
it.

ANDY: Even the rats have fled. Someone has to stay.

ANGELA: Matt'll be here. Of course.

ANDY: Of course. When they're printing nothing downstairs but Penny
Savers and Military Tribunes, he'll still be roaming these halls.

ANGELA: Here's an idea: Why don't you take your anger out on someone
else for a while, like Hank.

ANDY: Why?

HANK LAMMARR enters. He is the Sun's publisher, well dressed and in
his 50s.

HANK: Andy, a minute?

ANGELA: I'll go check on the printer.

ANGELA leaves.

ANDY: I don't have much time. When were you going to tell me about
Johnny?

HANK: I just got the letter myself. It shouldn't be too much of a
problem.

ANDY: Not much, I'm already the editor and managing editor why not
the editorial page editor too?

HANK: Nothing you can't handle. You've got the experience.

ANDY: Not doing it all at once.

HANK: We all have to work harder. I'm sure you'll do fine.

ANDY: It might help if you'd start replacing some of the people we've
lost. We've got no M.E., no editorial, no correspondents, no photo
editor ... oh, do you know what happened to the darkroom?

HANK: I meant to tell you, I sold our equipment to Zittlestown.

ANDY: You sold the darkroom to Zittlestown?

HANK: That equipment was over 30 years old. We can't deduct it.
(beat) Besides we're going to save 70 percent on our new photo
processing system.

ANDY: Great. When?

HANK: In a couple of years the digital equipment will be cheap enough
to transform our system.

ANDY: So until then I guess I'll just design us to look like the Wall
Street Journal.

HANK: Look we've been over this. Just because their design style is
100 years behind the times, doesn't mean their opinions aren't valid.
I've bought the staff point and shoots. I've got a deal on bulk color
film and I worked out a printing deal with the Food Lion.

ANDY: The grocery store?

HANK: They have an amazing processor at the store on Wilson and
Frederick. Better than we can afford.

ANDY: Then how do we afford it?

HANK: In return for our processing, they get 20 percent off all ads
and inserts.

ANDY: And we get them back as a customer.

HANK: Take that, direct mail. They'll give us top priority and rush
on deadline. Plus, we don't have to pay for those nasty chemicals and
the equipment so we more than balance out that 20 percent.

ANDY: And what if there's another scandal with their corporate?
Hank!

HANK: Plus, a few more clients like that and another resignation or
two and we'll solve our budget problem.

ANDY: We're already understaffed. And why are we having budget
problems anyway?

HANK: We had an extraordinary year of revenue last year. I
overestimated what we'd take in this year.

ANDY: Hank, last year was an election year.

HANK: So?

ANDY: Ad revenues always go up in election years.

HANK: So?

ANDY: So, budget accordingly.

HANK: Right now I can't justify a drop in revenue. I had to project a
6% increase.

ANDY: An increase? You just said ...

HANK: I know what I said, but I had to make the numbers look good on
paper. I still will by the time someone outside looks at them.

ANDY: At the expense of the staff?

HANK: Yes.

ANDY: The editorial staff?

HANK: I can't cut back on the ad staff. We need to sell ads. I can't
cut back on the circulation staff. We need to distribute. I can't cut
the press staff. They make half our money.

ANDY: We need reporters and editors too.

HANK: They're not as important as you think.

ANDY: They're more important than you think.

HANK: We're paying thousands for that wire. Now I can justify it.

ANDY: We're homogenized shit. We're struggling to cover local and we
have nothing original on state and national anymore. Too much AP just
makes us look like every other paper.

HANK: People don't know the difference.

ANDY: I know the difference. The stories we pull are from the other
papers in the state. AP just chops off the bylines.

HANK: You guys make plenty of money these days. We don't need to pay
with bylines anymore.

Calculates and frowns.

ANDY: It's dishonest.

HANK: The news business is never dishonest.

ANDY: Except when it is.

HANK: Sometimes I don't think you understand this business.

ANDY: Like hell! I understand journalism.

HANK: But you don't understand the news business. You don't
understand we run on a budget.

ANDY: I know budgets.

HANK: News budgets, maybe. I mean money. If we profit, you profit
too. You said yourself you have alimony payments to make. You have an
ex wife, right?

ANDY: Two.

HANK: Ouch. I hope you have a Philadelphia lawyer, Mr. Zenger.

ANDY: No, but apparently both Mrs. Zengers did.

HANK: All the more reason for you to go along with this plan. If we
have the year we're having, we're all gone. If we let a few more
people leave and we hold off on replacing them, then we make budget,
save our jobs and get a big bonus check.

ANDY: Hold off til when?

HANK: October. Just until the new fiscal year starts.

ANDY: I'm not staffing a newspaper until October on fumes and
ghosts.

HANK: You should see your own problems clearer. You've got a new wife
and two exes to support. How are you going to do that if you're
unemployed? What if a chain decides local news is unprofitable?

ANDY: Holy shit. You're scared.

HANK: Its good business to be scared at this point.

ANDY: It's also good business not to piss the editor off. I need
staff Hank. I'm killing my marriage trying to do this alone.

HANK: I won't let that happen. I've got just the thing for you.
There's a young man in my office that's ...

ANDY: Oh, no. No more damn interns.

HANK: Don't take that attitude, Andy. He's here to help you.

ANDY: He's here for credit like all the others. It's bullshit, Hank.
I'm asking you for professionals and you're giving me school kids.

HANK: He's got great potential.

HANK hands ANDY BRYANT's resume.

ANDY: I don't want him.

HANK: You don't have a choice. Besides he's a great kid. Honor
student at Harvard.

ANDY: Now I really don't want him.

HANK: Andy be reasonable. We couldn't all go to Maryland j-school.

ANDY: Hank, why would a kid from Harvard work here?

HANK: He's from Baltimore. I guess he wanted to stay local.

ANDY: The Post would be more local than us.

HANK: He interned at the Post.

ANDY: Then why wouldn't he go back?

HANK: Maybe he gave Kate Graham sexual advice?

ANDY: I'm not taking him. Send him back to Harvard.

HANK: You have no choice.

ANDY: Interns sometimes don't work out. They run out of here
screaming.

HANK: Don't Andy. Not this time.

ANDY: If he doesn't work out, you'll have to hire someone.

HANK: Just talk to him. You'll see. (Uses ANDY's phone.) Will you
send Bryant into Andy's office? (To ANDY) Andy, don't do anything
stupid. You need this to work out more than me.

BRYANT WILLIAMS enters. He is a young, well dressed, preppy African
American. He is obviously stunned by the mess.

HANK: Bryant, this is Andy Zenger.

BRYANT: Mr Zenger. I'm pleased ...

ANDY: Andy.

BRYANT: What?

ANDY: Just call me Andy.

HANK: Andy!

ANDY: See?

BRYANT: Nice to meet you Andy.

HANK: I'll leave you two to get acquainted. Andy, I'll need the
editorial ready when I get back from lunch before I go to dinner.
Bryant, good luck.

HANK leaves.

BRYANT: Good luck?

[end of extract]

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