The Escape

OPENING MUSICAL BACKGROUND IS 'NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN.'

CURTAIN RISE:

Across a dark stage, we catch sounds of a medical emergency. Muffled voices — medics fighting to save someone. The erratic flutter of a heartbeat-monitor as a LASER writes pulse-beats across the ceiling, distracting the audience as actors move into position.

EMT MEDIC (O.S.)
We're losing him! Let's intubate and get ready that adrenaline!

Medical sounds start to fade away as the stage lights rise. We see THE DEVIL — Big D or BD — in a swivel chair, small horns on his brow, feet up on a lustrous desk in a grotto-office. To the rear stretch a row of depressing-looking office cubicles with shadows moving sluggishly within. A backdrop gives a visual impression that the cubicles go on, depressingly, almost forever.

Our human — POLO — enters stage right, stumbling at first, quaking once as the fading hospital voices shout “Clear!” and an electric tremor zaps... then fades away... The hospital sounds vanish.

Recovering a bit, Polo looks around the grotto, at first confused but curious.

Startled, Polo stares at BD. Then, as realization dawns on Polo, he nods... then wanders over to a trophy case and wall of pictures.

POLO
You can tell a lot about someone from their decorations... or their hallucinations.

BD
Oh? How so?

POLO
No pictures of Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot... any bigtime killers. What I do see are propagandists. Goebbels. Savonarola. Cable news executives... you must be proud of those.

BD answers with an accept that conveys olden times, perhaps a twang, but with aristocratic tones.

BD
One keeps up with the times. So you know where you are? Who I am?

POLO
Who you’re supposed to be, sure. Lucifer, Satan, Serpent, Iblis, Agni, the Devil, Big D....

BD
I like that. “Big D.” You have — or had — a knack for words.

Polo listens as heart monitor sounds rise again, briefly, to audible.

POLO
“Had?” So... I’m toast? No chance they’ll save me?

BD
Oh, there’s a chance. It’s why you’re here. Won’t you sit?

POLO
No offense if I stand? Call it a gesture of self-control.

BD
You’re the one who mentioned “illusion.”

POLO
I said “hallucination.”

BD
Is that what you think I am?

POLO
Hm. “There's more of gravy than of grave about you.”

BD
Dickens. So, I’m just a delirium, while emergency room doctors fight to save you. A hyperactive mind, keeping busy to the last. Sorry... keeping busy through a crisis.

Polo gestures at the display case.

POLO
Hence, your trophies are what a guy like me would imagine on your wall. Never mind tyrants and slayers. They're all great fibbers — beloved of the Father of Lies.

BD
So you’re sticking with that notion? I’m just “an undigested bit of beef.” The delusion of a dying man?

Polo winces at "dying man."

POLO
I shouldn't have stepped off that curb... rushing in where my 'help' wasn't even wanted.

Polo shakes his head ruefully.

POLO
What? Oh yeah. Whether you're a delusion. Yeah. Pretty much.

BD
Actually, it’s kind of important that you at least consider.

POLO
Consider what?

BD
That I might be real. All this might be real.

POLO
Why is that important?

BD
Because only then would this have legality. Please, do sit.

Big D uses his cane to push a thick paper-binder across the desk — a contract. Polo comes around to sit in the guest chair... rickety, with one leg slightly short. He flips to the first page, then looks up sharply.

POLO
A contract. With the Devil. Really? This cliché?

BD
“Clichés” tend to have a basis. Someone first said “To be, or not to be...”

POLO
Nah. Shakespeare heard it from a guy who heard it from Homer... who heard it from Toomak the caveman.

Polo taps the contract.

POLO
Why me? A lapsed scientist and literary meddler?

BD
Let's say I have uses for your talents. I’m willing to pay.

POLO
So I'm special?

BD (laughs)
In some ways. Though less than your well-groomed ego would have you believe.

POLO
You offer deals to others?

BD
Some. Who teeter between fates... and have useful skills. Isn’t everything a deal?

POLO
There must be a million people dying, or near death, at any moment. How can you be in two places at once, when you're...

BD
...really nowhere at all?

POLO
So Satan can play with space-time, just like Santa?

BD
You do persist in doubting me.

POLO
It's the only reasonable position. Look at how you just happen to fit my expectations of how you’d appear. Dapper, handsome, witty... sarcastic. Male.

BD
Your preconceptions are easy to read. They help mold your perceptions.

POLO
Exactly! So at some level you are a product of my own, fevered mind.

BD glowers as Polo flips through contract.

POLO
Really, am I supposed to take all this on... faith?

BD
It’s proof you want?

PERSEPHONE, an attractive female demon enters from behind the office cubicles bearing a tablet/iPad.

BD
Thank you Persephone. Now let's see... what if we start with your bank account?

BD scribbles with his finger on the tablet and hands it to his assistant to give to POLO, who glances at the figure.

POLO
I won’t ask how you got my password. Nice. Though after taxes... I guess you have tricks in that department?

BD
My favorite department.

Polo hands back tablet.

POLO
I'm kind of insulted.

BD
Mere money. Worth an attempt. Let’s try something else.

While BD scribbles on the pad, Polo glances at PERSEPHONE, who winks.

POLO
Really? Is this sexism normal?

PERSEPHONE
I’m right here, asshole.

POLO
Sorry. I meant the question for both of you.

BD replies while scribbling.

BD
Sexism? Normal? For most of the last 10,000 years. Blame your subconscious, in part. But I’ll be Elizabeth Hurley, if you like, or Channing Tatum. Or else...

Persephone LIP-SYNCs (MOUTHS) BD's voice-over... while BD's original body slumps.

BD (CONT’D)
(mouthed by Persephone)
I can talk to you from here… or conjure up Dame Edna Everidge. Margaret Thatcher. Judi Dench? ... (swings hips) Mae West? Why don't you come down and SEE me —

POLO
Okay. Okay. Let's stay classic. Minimize distraction.

The original BD rouses and resumes tapping on the tablet.

POLO
Could I have...

2nd assistant, ANTICLEA, Enters with a tray, pours a glass of water.

POLO
Ice. Good touch. So, let’s get this straight. Which devil are you? Catholic, Old Hebrew, New Hebrew, Hindu, Aztec, so many kinds of protestant.

BD
What difference does that make to a fair offer?

POLO
The devil you know...

BD
But my history is soooo long. Tedious.

POLO
Nonsense. I’m fascinated! To calibrate... can you create living things? That’d rule out Catholic, though you could be Manichean... Can't be the Jewish "Shaitan" ‘cause he was God's servant, never an adversary... Can you alter the course of nations, or just pump bank accounts? Cure my enlarged prostate? And what’s with that damnation thing? Do you have a quota, a set sin-score you need to get below? Speaking for all males, I hope we’re graded on a curve!

BD is typing.

BD
I’ll be right with you. Meanwhile, babble away. Lots of folks do.

POLO
Ouch. Still, you can’t expect me not to ask. Y’know, standard puzzlers, like the Question of Evil and Pain? C.S. Lewis concocted some howler excuses for that one. Hey! Is the universe synergistic? Zero-sum? Someone else loses, for my every gain? That’d be nasty.

Polo leans toward BD.

POLO (CONT’D)
Those horns. Nifty. Classic “lamps on the brow.” They represent our prefrontal lobes, right? Humanity’s organs of empathy, imagination and foresight! So are you Prometheus too?

Polo sits back and sighs.

POLO (CONT’D)
I am babbling. Must be something they injected in the hospital.

BD finishes tapping on the tablet. Hands it over.

BD
I love these. It saves all that tedious snapping of fingers.

POLO’s mouth opens... and closes. He studies the tablet, taps around.

POLO
Wow, your wifi is... really fast.

BD
Naturally. We incubated Xfinity, Sky, Cox... all of them down here. Actually incubated, from demon-eggs. Even kept the call-centers in-house.

BD gestures at the apparent ocean of dull cubicles. Polo glances at shadows moving sluggishly and stooped beyond the partition, seems tempted to comment, then turns back to the tablet.

POLO
So... you changed my Wikipedia page. Your powers are truly wondrous, oh Great One. Heck I could do that... Oh, you mean all this new stuff would be... true?

BD
True schmoo. It’ll be true to others, in the reality where you waken. And no, I don't do The Matrix. I’m up on your sci fi lingo.

POLO puts the tablet on the desk and sits back.

POLO
You mentioned Bedazzled. In that flick Satan has a wager with God. So is this...

BD
None of that is it your concern!

POLO
No? You want me to work for you... but I can't ask about my job? Or my boss? That seems petty.

BD
Are you trying to enrage me? Why, I could...

POLO
Could what? Are you annoyed by a mortal’s curiosity? Either that verifies you’re petty... Or else you're a much larger being, only pretending to be crabby.

BD
And the difference that makes...

POLO
...is huge! You’ve shown me there are steep hierarchies above humanity. Even some atheists long suspected as much.

BD
So, you finally admit...

POLO
If you are some dismal, petty, pseudo-uber-man who reacts to verbal insults, that proves you feel close to my level. Which implies there must be other levels above yours.

BD
Oh, so now you’re going to pray?

POLO
I see that bores you. What fraction of folks do that?

BD
By this point? About half. Another quarter have already signed the contract.

POLO
Interesting. You seem to have a symbiotic relationship with the Other Fellow. So if you don’t mind... and even if you do... I think I’ll aim my appeal above Him.

THE END of this sample

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