Tea Bags
Scene 1: Hairspray and a Bird's Nest
Rose, Sophia and Dorothy are gabbing at the kitchen table. In walks Blanche with a see-through red negligee, red robe and red slippers. She pooches her lips and runs her hands up the contours of her waist, trying to seem seductive to the girls, who are oblivious to her attempts for attention.
"Girls...I got a problem." Rose says, in a half-hoarse voice.
"Problem? Problem? You think you got a problem. Try having to smell Blanche for a week without a shower when they turned off our water. Now, that's a problem." Sophia chimes in, sniffing an imaginary odor in the air.
"That was the worst week in the history of this house. I actually saw the paint peeling off the walls." Dorothy remarks, in a brusque, subdued tone.
"By the way, you look more slutty than usual in that outfit Blanche. Have a man over last night?" Rose asks, curiously.
"How did you guess? I had Stewart Rumpkins over last night, and boy did we have a fling, literally. Hope we didn't keep you girls up. As you can see, red makes him crazy. He's like a wild animal in the bed." Blanche explains lasciviously.
"You got the hair to show it. That bird's nest hasn't seen a comb since Carol Alt was a Covergirl." Sophia quips, in a peeved voice.
"Anyway, Rose. What's your problem?" Sophia inquires.
"At the community center, I saw a poster that called for participants in a contest. I entered...but I entered you girls with me," Rose puts in. "You have to enter with a group of at least three other people, so I thought it would be fun if we could all go!" Rose chirps, pushing her knees together and biting her lip.
"What kinda contest?" Blanche asks, in a bitchy groan.
"That's the problem, silly. I don't know. I didn't really have time to read all the poster because a little old lady dropped a bag of kitty litter on my feet, and I had to help her. I just managed to put our information on the form, and drop it in the cardboard box. It did say something about 'tea' in it, though"
"It can't be all that bad." Dorothy intones. "What could Rose possibly do that could get us in a bind?"
"I can think of a thousand examples where she in fact has." whines Blanche. "Remember that time she put your add in the paper, Dorothy, for your tutoring services, and she put it in the personal columns? All those Greek sailors were out in a truck waiting to get there $8 worth?"
"It's a contest Blanche. We'll probably have to bob for apples or see who can jump the highest or better yet, a tea etiquette thing." Dorothy retorts.
"I hope it's not a wet t-shirt contest. Seeing you girls would give KFC all it needs to fry chickens for a year." Sophia subtly adds.
"Ma...shut up!" Dorothy yells, pounding her manly fists on the kitchen table.
"Well, the contest is tomorrow at 8 o'clock at the 'All Night Nudies' tavern. Sounds like an interesting place. In St. Olaf, we used to have a famous basket weaver named Nudie. He was famous five counties over for belching 'When Birds Suddenly Appear', and..."
"You shut up too, Rose!" Dorothy bursts out.
"What's wrong pussycat? Haven't had yourself rubbed in awhile? You sure aren't purring. But, when was the last time that happened?" Sophia scoffs, pulling out a needle from a tomato pin cushion on the table.
"Oh, I'll just take a midol. Surprisingly, it still works really well." Dorothy utters, amenably.
"This wart is bothering me. It's right on the bend of my index finger, and boy is it a tough one." Sophia prods the wart with the needle, causing it to bleed.
"Don't get that all over my new table cloth, Sophia. I had to go to a special store and elicit services from a special someone to get my hands on it. It's an antique." Blanche affirms, shaking her index finger.
"Why do you care? You got more bugs inside you than 'The Temple of Doom'." Sophia says firmly in her defense.
"I'm going out on a date with Miles tonight. We're going to a movie, but we have to wait outside the back entrance until someone leaves so we can get in. Miles is such a charmer." Rose remarks, passionately.
"Yeah. Charming. Taking you out on the first date and making you pay. How romantic." Sophia grunts.
"Well girls, I better go get ready for the date. It takes hours to get my hair this poofy. That reminds me, I ran out of hair spray."
"You just bought five cans yesterday, Rose. You ran out already?" Blanche questions in disbelief.
"See, I don't only use the hairspray for my hairdo. I also use it to give a little kick to...you know...my other poof ball. Miles likes it and likes to run his fingers through it, especially in the movie theater when it's dark." Rose muses, ardently.
"Wow. I thought I was kinky," Blanche belches. "You'd never know it, but you can learn a lot from Rose in the 'bedroom department'."
Blanche leaves the room just as Stanley enters, wearing his monkey-ass rug on his head.
"Dorothy, Dorothy. Have I got a thing for you!" declares Stanley, in a loud voice.
"Last time I checked, your thing wasn't THAT impressive." Dorothy cackles like the witch from the west.
"I got you this free all day pass to the 'Garden of Youth' Spa. I thought you might need a little, you know, makeover, seeing that my friend told me yesterday he mistook you from behind as Dr. Zeus from 'The Planet of the Apes'.
"How nice of you , Stanley. You could always sweeten the pot with your words and make me feel like a princess." Dorothy mutters, sarcastically.
"Yeah. I also got this great business deal going on. I'm going to sell 'Cucumber Condoms'. It's a piece of plastic that you put on the tip of the cucumber to keep it fresh after you cut it. I just need a five-thousand dollar investment and you can have half the company."
"Why would I invest in 'Cucumber Condoms'? I don't even use regular condoms! I beat off with a brush!"
"Fine, then. Be like that. Sorry for wasting your time, and mine. I have better things to do than hang around here with you saggy broads. I'm gonna be rich, raking in the dough, and all you have is cellulite and Bengay."
"Get lost, you Gorilla turd!" Sophia exclaims, dipping her hand under her chin in an insulting gesture.
"That's what I get for generosity. I'm a good guy in a house of bags"
Stanley traipses out of the house and slams the door behind him.
"Why does he keep coming around? And why does he just break in here unannounced?" Dorothy asks, blasé as ever.
"There's an old saying in Sicily. La hola is a hola eventhougha la girla isa fugla. That sick bastard'll use anything he can get his hands on." Sophia states, nodding her head forcefully up and down.
Scene 2: Bobo the Clown
Blanche and her date for the evening approach the front of the house. Blanche leans herself on the door, waiting for the gentleman's advances. Instead, he remains standing as solid as ever, with a nonplussed look on his face.
"Why, aren't you gonna have a 'lil night cap with me? That dinner was sooo good. And you know what happens when a man feeds me oysters. The walls come crashing down!" Blanche hacks, in a semi-sexy alto.
"That's okay, I'll take a rain check. Blanche, there's something I have to tell you. You're just...not my type. A few of my buddies down at the 'Rusty Anchor' put me up to going out with you tonight to see how far I could get, but I can't push myself any farther. You just...you just...remind me of a memory I had when I was younger that wasn't so pleasant."
"What memory? Tell me, honey, I ain't gonna bite you."
"You remind me of the time when I was 10 years old at the Circus. There was this monstrous clown named 'Bobo' and he terrified me. You look like his twin."
"Why...I'd never. Never has a man spoken like that to me. I am a beautiful woman, with a ...lovely body and uh—uh...the perkiest bosoms this side of the Mississippi." Blanche gives her repartee, petulant. "How do I look like this Bobo anyway?
"You got the hair, the face...the MAKEUP! That's the only reason the guys made me go out with you. You know, a counter-phobia. To confront my fears. Most often though, the guys overlook you and just get what they could from a bottle of a lotion and a 'Penthouse'.
"I...I...I...Just leave and never, I say NEVER come and show your face here again!"
"Gladly!" the man replies, running the other direction faster than Oprah runs to the 24-hour buffet at 2 in the morning.
Blanche stumbles in the house and slams the door, breaking the oriental vase propped against the wall. She pules and sobs, throwing her purse down on the couch where Dorothy is sitting, reading 'Reader's Digest'.
"What's wrong, Blanche? I take it that your date wasn't an all-nighter?" Dorothy croons, relishing in the moment.
"I just can't...can't speak. I can't breathe. I need a glass of water. No bring me a shot of gin! Ohhhhoggghahahaoooo."
"Blanche, Blanche, is there really something wrong?" Dorothy asks, now concerned.
"I...I'm...I'm ugly! Nobody loves me. Nobody loves me! I''ve always been confident with my looks, but I guess it was, huh, all a big damn joke!"
"Oh Blanche, what did he say?"
"I don't wanna talk about it. I'll see you in the morning, Dorothy."
Blanche storms off down the hallway as Sophia gets up out of bed and starts to aimlessly wander around the living room.
"Do we have a hibachi, pussycat?" she asks Dorothy.
"Hibachi? What are you talking about? Go back to bed, Ma!"
"I had a dream where your father told me to get a hibachi, and pawn it, then store the money in a jar in a safety deposit box at the bank. Wait a year and seventeen days, and I would find a present in the jar," Sophia says, in a serious declaration.
"I'm sure Blanche must have one in her bedroom among her 'cooking utensil stash'. That slut likes to use food whenever she gets the chance. Now let's hit the sack!" Dorothy chortles.
Scene 3: Mr. Sandman
The late-afternoon is overcast and quiet. The living room is empty and void of interaction. Suddenly, Blanche quietly comes in the front door, sets a large plastic bag on the sofa, and walks briskly into the kitchen. She is wearing a mummy mask, obviously from a surgery, and is trying to evade the attention of the girls. Rose comes out of the hallway and into he kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of sardines and a jar of mustard. She carefully peels open the tin sardine can with her long nail, plops some mustard on the fish with her finger, and gobbles them down.
"Why hi Mr. Sandman! Didn't think I'd see you today. I was just talking to one of my sock puppets in my room. He told me that he would one day like to travel to Nepal, climb a hill and eat some licorice while dancing to that ABBA song 'Hasta Manana". Guess you're responsible for that one, eh?" Rose exclaims, in a jarring voice.
"It's me, Rose. It's Blanche."
"You're not Blanche. Blanche doesn't look like that! You can't fool me sneaky-poo!"
"I am Blanche, you dinky-head dodo. I just got me on a Banana boat and took a 'lil trip down to Cuba to get some work done on my face. The doctors say I will look just glamorous when I am unveiled."
"Why would you get a surgery when we have to go to the contest tonight? Remember, the one that I signed us all up for. The 'tea party'?" Rose wags her tongue in disbelief.
"Well, I'll just have to do your contest with this thing on my head. I got me a hole cut out so I can eat and drink. Drinking tea wont matter when I have this on." Blanche calms Rose, arrogantly.
"Problem solved! I'll go get ready! Dorothy and Sophia are out shopping for dresses. I bet they'll look just sparkling and we'll be the talk of the town!
Rose exits the kitchen just as Sophia and Dorothy come in the back entry. They both flop down their bags while Sophia struggles to grab a knife out of the kitchen drawer.
"Get out, thief!," Dorothy screams! "Ma come here, come here!"
"You get out you slime!," Sophia slashes Blanche right through her mummy mask, revealing a large gash.
"You fools, you fools, ohohoh. It's me, Blanche!"
"Blanche?" Dorothy and Sophia stand bemused.
"I got something cosmetic done, and this is the mask I have to wear. You've ruined it!" Blanche heaves, in desperation.
"Ahhh, rub some aloe on it!" Sophia hacks.
Sophia leaves the kitchen, Dorothy following behind her in shock. They both go to their bedrooms and dress for the night's contest.
Scene 4: Golden Tea
The girls, all decked out in sequins and bling, enter a dark, smokey tavern, gritty with sweat and grease. Music booms out of the speakers at the front of the stage. A fat man with stretched ears, beard and tattoos asks if they want a drink before the contest. The women say no, still confused. Blanche is being lead by Rose as she is still crying all over the place, hunkering down onto the the bar.
"Give me a jungle juice, bartender."
"Surely"
The bartender sticks a straw in the glass and Blanche maneuvers the straw through the hole in her plaster mask to sip her cocktail.
"Great Mask," the bartender comments. "Taking the contest up another level, I see."
A sleazy looking manager steps up to the mic on the stage and announces that the contest will begin in ten minutes. Already, a group of women, mostly middle-aged to older bag ladies, line the wall of the tavern. The women are curious, and are yacking and chatting amongst themselves.
"We're team gold!" Rose says matter-of-factly. "The other teams have different colors too. We'll be like colors of the rainbow!"
"Yeah. Ohohohhohoho. I want to dig a hole and be forgotten!" Blanche bemoans.
"Cheer up, Blanche, this contest looks fun. We get to drink tea!" Rose whistles happy as a bird.
"You'll be drinking a lot of tea, that's for sure." the bartender thunders, cleaning glasses with a dish rag.
"Let's have the blue team against the gold team!" the announcer booms over the mic.
Rose, pulling at Blanche, along with Dorothy and Sophia, get up onto the stage. From the other side of the stage, four woman, give or take the same age as the girls, walk up the steps in anticipation.
"Lie down on the stage!" the announcer booms.
The girls lie down, fazed and mentally constipated.
"Let's bring 'The Hulk' out here!" the announcer shouts.
Out comes a little old flaccid man in a cod-piece thing, shaking his chest at the wooing crowd. He saunters over and stands above Blanche first, ready to squat.
"Remove the cod-piece!," the announcer booms again.
The old man removes his underwear and starts tea-bagging Blanche in her mummy mask!
"Help, help, I need help...I need air!" Blanche screeches.
"What the hell is this kinda contest?" Dorothy rages.
"It's a tea-bagging contest, didn't you know?" the bartender shouts from across the room.
The girls immediately lift up Blanche and run out of the tavern. They run to their car and surreptitiously get in. Blanche's mask is partially ripped and half her face is exposed.
"I just wanted to be loved. All I wanted was to be beautiful. All I wanted was to be like everyone else; accepted and pretty so I could make fun of those who aren't, like you, Dorothy." Blanche whimpers.
"You are such a selfish bitch! All you care about is looks and you aren't even pretty!" Dorothy glowers.
Dorothy rips Blanche's mask off and all the girls gasp and remain silent.
"Well?...Say something! Speak! Give me the mirror!" Blanche pleads.
"In the mirror is..."
The End