Satan, Tomb Raider & CNN A Ten-Minute Play by Mark S.P. Turvin Characters: Teen 1-A thirteen year old deathrocker and follower of goth. Southern accent. Teen 2-A fourteen year old paramilitary fanatic. Southern accent. Teen 3-A quiet fourteen year old. No accent. Scene: One wooden table, three wooden chairs facing forward. Time: 1998, and probably from now on. The lights come up on...all three teens sitting at the table. Only Teen 3 is aware of the others, while Teen 1 and 2 think they're alone. Teen 1 is smoking a cigarette, looking up at the ceiling. He is leisurely about his smoking. Teen 2 is sitting rigidly at attention. Teen 3 is sitting and watching the other two. Teen 1 finally stamps the cigarette out on the table. Teen 1 I was nothing. Until they found me. Roger and the rest. They became my family, after my family, my supposedly real family, fell apart. Teen 2 James Wilson. Corporal, Alabama Citizens' Militia. 072-77-9082. Teen 3 Sometimes a new way of getting noticed comes up, and you have to be impressed. Teen 1 Roger told me, this is all an illusion, and God is the real Satan. What kind of a God would allow us to be so miserable? Teen 3 Moments occur, when everything becomes crystal clear. For that moment, in that way, people will listen to what you have to say. Teen 1 And my mom would drag me to church, and tell me that Roger and the rest were sick, but then she'd go home and slam down her wine coolers, and watch the tube. And get fat. And call my father a bastard. The more Roger told me, the more it all made sense. She was the illusion. And she didn't even know it. Teen 3 It's just a moment, then everyone becomes aware. There have been many moments. Many times when someone takes the initiative, and routes become clear. They don't last long, but they're there. Teen 1 We didn't do those stupid rituals that everyone says Satanists do. Yeah, we prayed to Satan, and listened to His music, and sometimes we'd hold meetings in Karen's basement and talk about His teachings. But I didn't drink blood or nothin' stupid like that. Teen 3 Someone makes a statement, and everyone takes notice. Teen 1 I mean, blood can kill you these days. Teen 3 On CNN, these guys had names. They were known. They were more than one of millions. For that moment, they were one in a million. Hell, one in a billion. Teen 2 She wouldn't listen to me, so I spoke out loud. Loud enough for the world to hear. (Louder, with a definite military clip) I am James Wilson. Corporal, Alabama Citizens' Militia. 072-77-9082. Teen 1 They couldn't understand our family of Satan, but we were the only ones who knew that they were wrong, not us. Teen 2 My opah gave me my first gun when I was eight. At first, he told me it was for hunting. To survive on our own, if we needed to. I mean, I was only a little kid then. Teen 1 Roger and Karen were more of my parents than my mom and dad. They cared for me more, and understood. Teen 3 They made their statements, and people were listening. Right there on CNN, for the whole world to hear. Teen 2 But then, when I was ten, opah began telling me about the govinment. Telling me how they was in-trusive. How the government and organized religions was trying to control your minds. He said it was nearly time for the Turners to turn things around. Teen 1 The darkness is the true light. Satan sees you, and asks only for your respect. Not your love, like his arch-enemy, but a one-on-one. Teen 3 People begin showing you the right way to do things. The way to get noticed. The way to make a statement. The true path to fame. Teen 2 Then, when Jeannie and I started datin', she said she could understan' me, like no one else. She could see my fears and sadness and stuff. That's what she said. Teen 1 Roger and Karen and Tim and Adele. They spoke for me when no one else cared. Teen 3 They were telling me the way to be sure that everyone truly understood me. Teen 1 And we realized that no one else would understand. Reality was an illusion, and there was only one thing to shatter it. Teen 2 She claimed. She said. (Pause, bitterly, a bit childishly) She lied. Teen 3 Right there on my t.v., there it was. I saw the way to make the world sit up and notice me. Teen 2 After she dumped me, n' her parents said she couldn't see an anti-social-guy like me, I sat in my room for days and played "Tomb Raider." Every monster had her face on it. Teen 1 And Roger taught me that it was time to spread His word, and shatter the illusion that the people in the light lived in. Teen 3 I mean, let's be honest here, what other way was left to me? How else in this world of billions and billions served would anyone hear what I had to say? Teen 2 And when I wasn't getting high scores in "Tomb Raider," I went down to the shootin' range with opah, and he'd talk about brainwashin', and how the govinment lies to you with television and movies, and how everyone's always believin' it. Teen 1 The world's a lie, and I wasn't going to let it make fun of me anymore. Teen 2 The world's always lyin' to you, and sometimes you have to make it shut up, even just for one l'il second. Teen 3 There are so many people in the world, and none of them care. These days, there's only one way to make the world notice a single person. Or two. Or three. Teen 2 So I stole the key to my opah's gun cabinet. I took a couple of shotguns, and a couple of semi-automatics, and a couple handguns. Plenty of ammo. Opah taught me everything I needed to know. I even got his spare set of keys for the van. Teen 1 Roger never exactly said to make this kind of stand, but I knew that every one of us wanted to do it. Planned to do it. So I lifted my dad's old shotgun, and slept with it the night before. I had nightmares. Everyone laughing at me. Telling me I'm nothing. It was the illusion of reality trying to erode my confidence. Teen 3 I took my father's rifle, and some of the bullets, and did everything like I'd seen the others do. Teen 1 When I woke up, I was standing in front of my mom, with a knife in my hand, and blood everywhere. Satan had guided me while I slept. I went back into the bedroom and got the shotgun. Teen 3 First, take out my parents. Just like that guy in Mississippi. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Got mom in the living room, and dad in the den. I knew I was doing the right thing. And better, too, since I killed both my parents. Teen 2 I got my eleven year-old next door neighbor to drive with me to the school. He pulled the fire alarm, and all those idiots came running out. I picked 'em off easier than "Tomb Raider." Teen 1 There was that stupid prayer group gathered in the hallway before class. All holding hands, and heads bowed, praying to a God that didn't give a fuck about them. Teen 2 Just lock and load, baby. Teen 3 Then off to school, ready to let the world see what I had to say. Teen 1 Blam. Blam. Blam. All those sweet little God-lovers, praying and shouting and crying. Welcome to Hell, kiddies. Teen 2 And then Jeannie ran out, just like she was supposed to. This was what all of my trainin' had really been for. Teen 3 Pulled the fire alarm, and watched them come running. Cattle to the slaughter. Teen 2 But then that damned teacher got in the way. I had a perfect lock on her head, too. Teen 1 Go ahead, pray, but your God doesn't give a shit! Teen 3 Chick-chick, blam! Chick-chick, blam! Come and get it! Chick-chick, blam! Teen 2 I ran out of ammo alot quicker than I expected, and I didn't get as many as I thought I would. Life is different from "Tomb Raider." Teen 3 I could see the headlines, and they all featured my name. Suspected mass- murderer. Television, movies. All about me. Teen 1 Then some fucking goody-goody wrestled the gun out of my hand, and it was over. And most of them survived. Can you believe it? Teen 2 I stopped and ran back to the van to restock, but then a couple'a teachers grabbed me and held me on the ground. Not nearly as many points as I could've scored. Teen 3 I didn't even get as many as that guy in Alabama. Totally missed my shot at being a celebrity. Teen 1 Roger and the rest didn't do what I thought they would. Karen even ratted the rest of 'em out. So much for the brotherhood of Satan. Teen 2 They keep askin' me, and I keep tellin' 'em. James Wilson. Corporal, Alabama Citizens' Militia. 072-77-9082. Teen 3 They got all this great coverage. Total exposure, from the moment they were caught. By the time I did it, no big deal. Out of the papers in a couple of days. Nobody in the press even asked me any of the good questions like they did for the others. I didn't realize it, but the window of opportunity had closed. It became 'the same old thing.' If you're gonna get people to notice, you've gotta do it one better than the others, or else you're just a copy cat. If they killed three, you've gotta kill six, or else it doesn't count. That's just the way it is these days. (Teen 1 lights another cigarette, Teen 2 sits rigidly once more, and Teen 3 leans back in his chair) Blackout