No doubt, you’ve heard of a play called The Vagina Monologues, where women of various ages express how they feel about their womanhood. But you’re probably not familiar with its male-casted equivalent, an off-broadway production that never quite caught on: The Penis Monologues:
The curtain rises. Four men sit on metal folding chairs on a dimly lit stage. The oldest is MAURICE, an African American, 65. He wears a three-piece suit and a beret. The youngest is WILLIAM, a muscular caucasian, 29. He wears a white T-shirt, one size too small for him, and baggy sweat pants. There is also TOMMY, 35, an hispanic man. He’s wearing a dirty jumpsuit with the word “Janitor” stenciled on it. And, finally, there is RICHARD, a timid looking man whose race is hard to pinpoint, but he’s probably white. He wears some pleated slacks, a short-sleeved dress shirt, a tie and unattractive eyeglass frames that really don’t compliment the shape of his face.
William stands.
WILLAM: My penis is like a mighty fist, rising in the crowd.
MAURICE: Bullllll SHIT!
WILLAM: Huh?
MAURICE: Your penis ain’t like no goddamn fist rising in the crowd. Man, your penis probably no bigger than my thumb!
WILLIAM: Yeah? Well, I guess you’ve probably seen a lot of penises.
MAURICE: What’s that supposed to mean? You calling me some kind of homo?
WILLIAM: Hey, if the penis fits.
MAURICE: I’ll shove my fucking mighty fist up your ass, you honky motherfucker!
Maurice moves to attack William, but Tommy steps in, separating them.
TOMMY: Hey, hey! Dudes! Dudes! Be cool! Be cool!
Finally, Maurice and William sit down, leaving Tommy standing.
TOMMY: My penis is like a slippery snake, wrapped around a tree.
All the guys laugh.
TOMMY: What!
MAURICE: Man, sit your snake-wrapped-tree ass down.
Tommy sits down, reluctanty. Richard stands up.
RICHARD: Uh, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Some guy told me this was supposed to be an open discussion. I’m here to talk about molecular biology.
TOMMY: You mean like what’s in your pants?
The other guys laugh. William high-fives Tommy.
RICHARD: What’s that supposed to mean?
TOMMY: What do you think it means?
RICHARD: It sounded like a quip about my manhood. I don’t take kindly to disparaging comments about my penis.
MAURICE: Quip? Disparaging? Man, where the fuck you learn to talk?
RICHARD: From the dictionary.
TOMMY: (mocking) From the dictionary.
TOMMY and WILLAM chuckle.
RICHARD: Oh, real mature.
MAURICE: Hey, if you ain’t gonna talk about your dick, sit your quippy ass down . . . Wait a minute. What the fuck is “quippy ass” supposed to mean? Who wrote this shit?
TOMMY: Yeah, and while we’re at it, how come the Mexican guy is wearing the janitor costume? I’m gonna kick that motherfucker’s ass. Turn on the fucking house lights.
The house lights go up. Maurice pulls off his beret.
MAURICE: Yeah, and fuck this Samuel L. Jackson bullshit. Why does the black guy have to wear the beret? I never wear a fucking beret. And I never say “ain’t” either. Show yourself, motherfucker. Stand up!
Nobody stands. William gets up.
WILLIAM: Hey, at least you have something nice to wear. Look at what they’ve got me wearing. I can hardly breathe in this fucking T-shirt. I think it’s cutting off my circulation. Am I supposed to be the gay one or what?
TOMMY: (points to Richard) I think he’s the gay one.
RICHARD: Hey, I don’t appreciate that. I am not gay.
TOMMY: Yeah, sure you’re not.
RICHARD: And if I was, what would be wrong with that? Why are you such a homophobe?
TOMMY: Because I ain’t gay.
Richard lunges for Tommy. Maurice moves in to hold them apart.
RICHARD: I’ll fucking kill you!
TOMMY: Yeah, c’mon and try it!
MAURICE: Gentlemen, gentlemen. Please! Let’s try to get along.
Eventually, they calm down. Maurice lets go of them and they just look at each other in silence for two minutes. Finally, William stands up.
WILLIAM: My penis is like a majestic oak —
MAURICE, TOMMY, RICHARD: Shut up!
The curtain drops. The audience sits there stunned, then starts booing and begins throwing their shoes at the stage. Then, realizing the stupidity of discarding their shoes, they rush the stage to collect them back.
11 Comments