3.25.3007: Carrot (A Theatrical Metaphor, Reconsidered)

The Guy and Carrot (Now an asshole) enter. The Carrot follows the Guy.

The Official-Looking Narrator speaks grandly.

THE OFFICIAL-LOOKING NARRATOR
Carrot. A Theatrical Metaphor, Reconsidered.

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
Hey wait up! Come on. WAIT UP!

THE GUY
What?

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
This isn’t fair.

THE GUY
What isn’t fair?

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
This.

This puppet.
This… asshole puppet.

I’m not an asshole.

THE GUY
You don’t return calls. Or text messages. You don’t say hello when you see me online. You’re an asshole.

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
I’m…

I’m not an asshole. And I’m not a carrot.
I’m a person.

There’s a person behind your theatrical metaphor.
Someone who has stuff going on in his life
that you know nothing about.

Stuff that you can’t just fit neatly
into a two-page play
with puppets and a narrator
and this sense that life and people
can be distilled.
Reduced.
Simplified.

The Actor takes the puppet off.

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
I’m not what you think I am.
Nobody is.
And it’s not fair for you to paint a picture of the world
in which I’m either a Carrot or an Asshole
and nothing in between.

THE GUY
I’m sorry.

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
It’s okay.

THE GUY
I just liked you.
A lot.

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
Okay.
So now we understand each other.

THE GUY
Now we understand each other.

THE OFFICIAL-LOOKING NARRATOR
Carrot. A Theatrical Metaphor –

CARROT NOW AN ASSHOLE
Oh for God sakes, shut the fuck up.

Here.
You need this more than I do.

He hands the asshole puppet to the Narrator. The Carrot walks away. The guy considers the Narrator for a moment, and leaves in the opposite direction.

The lights go down.