Cast of Characters

Humans
JANE GORDON, pregnant, a trapped animal
RICK GORDON, weak, but not dumb, normal in a frustrating way
NUGGET GORDON, ten-year-old, freakishly brilliant
CUBBY GORDON, figuratively or literally mustachioed, wears
rings
ENGINEER, arrogant, smart, used to be picked on as a kid, he’s not
supposed to be giving this interview
FILM STUDENT, just barely 20, in over his head
HENRIK IBSEN, Blanche DuBois in muttonchops, unhappy, fragile
MRS. IBSEN, a pistol-whip, not-to-be-reckoned with
ELSE, a fresh young thing, but practical, some kind of accent
AUGUST STRINDBERG, brilliant, sexy, if there were cowboys in
Sweden…
STRINDBERG’S MONKEY, a beautiful monkey
LAURA LINNEY, Laura Linney

Robots
HANS, tall, glowing, muscular, articulate
BILLY, junky, visible rust, stop-start way of speaking.
BRACK-BOT, wears an oversized judge-wig, runs into things, made
out of foam
BERTA-BOT, a broom on wheels.
AUNT JULIE-BOT, wears a big tacky hat
Setting Notes
For the first half of the play, there are three playing spaces:
1. A living room in Ypsilanti, Michigan in February 2006. This is
Jane’s space. There is a sofa. Flowers. A TV. Jane sits on the couch
for most of the first half of the play.
2. A long table with chairs. An enormous pile of destroyed papers
sits neatly in a corner. This serves as the Ibsen household in Munich
in the summer of 1890.
3. A suburban kitchen in Ypsilanti Michigan in March 2006. Chairs
around the table face a video camera that feeds directly to screens
around the set. Cubby and Rick sit here.
Nugget moves in and out of these spaces, with visual aids.
When the action of the play moves to Robotforest, these walls move
to reveal an expanse of light, metal, shadows of jungle leaves, and
what could be the set for a traditional production of Hedda Gabler.
At the end of the play, the walls return.
The robots should be played by robots. Or anything metal that can
move on wheels.

Production Notes
All direct quotes from outside sources are put in quotation marks in
the script. Program notes should indicate that the play includes
quotes from the following books:
Ibsen’s Women by Joan Templeton
Ibsen and His Discontents by Theodore Dalrymple (City Journal,
Summer 2005)
The Troll in the Drawing Room by Michael Billington (The Guardian,
Feb 15, 2003)
The excerpts from Hedda Gabler were, of course, written by Henrik
Ibsen in 1890, translated into English by Rolfe Fjelde.
Singularity is a theory of engineer Ray Kurzweil, and the ideas in
this play are creatively derived from his essays.
Cindy Jeffers and Meredith Finklestein also contributed enor-
mously to my 2nd grade understanding of robots, consciousness,
materialism, phenomenology, AI, and Google.

Acknowledgments
Heddatron was originally produced and developed by Aaron Lemon
Strauss and Les Freres Corbusier at HERE Arts Center in New York,
New York in February of 2006 with the following cast and staff:
HENRIK IBSEN .................................................Daniel Larlam
JANE ...................................................................... Carolyn Bost
IBSEN’S WIFE .................................................... Nina Hellman
NUGGET ............................................................ Spencer Leigh
RICK ................................................................... Gibson Frazier
CUBBY ...................................................................Sam Forman
AUGUST STRINDBERG ......................................Ryan Karels
STRINDBERG’S MONKEY ..................... Michael Schulman
FILM STUDENT ................................................ Ian Unterman
ELSE............................................................................ Julie Lake
VOICE OF BILLY .................................................. Scott Hoffer
VOICE OF HANS ..............................................Daniel Larlam
With Jeremy Shamos appearing by video.
Director ................................................................ Alex Timbers
Stage Manager ............................................................ Kat West
Robot Design / Production ................ Meredith Finkelstein,
Cindy Jeffers of Botmatrix

All production groups performing this play are required to include

the following credits on the title page of every program:
Heddatron was originally produced by Les Freres Cor-
busier; Alex Timbers (Artistic Director), Aaron Lemon-
Strauss (Executive Director).
 HEDDATRON
by Elizabeth Meriwether

PART ONE
(Out of darkness, vague sounds of a jungle mix with the quiet melo-
dies of an unidentified digital machine.)
(Suddenly, the monitors around the set flicker on and we see the face
of the ENGINEER. He faces the camera, looks uncomfortable. Fi-
nally:)
ENGINEER. Robots don’t abduct women. It’s just not possible.
They aren’t savages. Not that savages abduct—I’m not saying any
particular culture—
(ENGINEER makes a face.)
It’s just not possible. I mean, why Ypsilanti, Michigan?
(Lights up suddenly on a living room in Ypsilanti, Michigan.)
(JANE, a pregnant woman in her thirties enters with a basket of
laundry wearing pajama pants and an oversize T-shirt that says: Not
A Morning Person. She starts to fold the laundry.)
FILM STUDENT. And these robots achieved some level of con-
sciousness? And it was completely arbitrary?
ENGINEER. Well, arbitrary is as arbitrary does.
(A slight pause.)
FILM STUDENT. What does that mean?
ENGINEER. There’s a theory bouncing around that robots are be-
coming exponentially more intelligent—that we are quickly ap-
proaching uh a moment—an era—called The Singularity—
FILM STUDENT. The Singularity—
ENGINEER. The moment when robots will break out of the net-
work of communications and achieve self-awareness. You know:
The Toaster talks back. The oven tells you to make your own din-
ner. 1987. A government-subsidized robot is found in the jungle
completely broken down—I guess the robot had just started out on
its own and somehow ended up in Ecuador. But that was an iso-
lated incident—if it happened at all—there’s nothing to be worried
about—
FILM STUDENT. I’m not worried—I was just asking—
ENGINEER. Nothing to be worried about.
(A book drops from the ceiling. JANE looks at the book. She bends
down and picks it up.)
FILM STUDENT. I just want to know what happened to Jane
Gordon.
ENGINEER. A glitch—some kind of bug in the system.
FILM STUDENT. What kind of bug?
ENGINEER. (Clears his throat.)
(As JANE holds the book up, we see it’s a copy of Hedda Gabler—
Lights flicker ominously behind her.)
(Blackout.)
(NUGGET, a 10-year-old girl wearing thick-framed glasses, stands
in a spotlight looking out at the audience. The following speech is ac-
companied with homemade visual aids.)
NUGGET. “Hedda Gabler, colon, Well Made Play, question mark.”
This paper was assigned by my 6th grade English teacher, Mrs.
Webber, with research partly funded by the Les Freres Corbusier
Theater group. They are part of the Avant-Garde. This report is
about Theater History. Most people don’t know about theater his-
tory because it is not as interesting as regular history. There aren’t
any wars. Theater history is made up of people trying to make
theater in different ways than the other ways of making theater.
Lame. But not as lame as war.
(She tapes two white “mutton chops” on the side of her face made out
of cotton balls.)
Now I will talk about Henrik Ibsen.
(Lights build on Ibsen’s dining room.)
Ibsen is a man who was a playwright. Who wrote in Norway in the
19th century. This was a time of great change all over the world.
People were inventing factories. Smoke was pouring into people’s
mouths.
(We see the dining room of the Ibsen household. IBSEN [with mut-
ton chops] staring at a plate of food in front of him. MRS. IBSEN
sits across from him.)
MRS. IBSEN. Are you going to eat your food, Ibsen or are you go-
ing to poke it?
NUGGET. Ibsen was married. Her name was Suzannah. She called
him Ibsen, not Henrik. This is strange because most people call the
people they are married to by their first name, like Tim or Jessica.
Even though Ibsen was a writer, he never cheated on his wife. His
father lost all the money drinking and then beat his mother sense-
less. People say there was a room off the back porch where Ibsen
played with dolls. One of the plays Ibsen wrote was Hedda Gabler.
That’s Norwegian for…Hedda Gabler.
(NUGGET chuckles a little then looks out. Each title in the follow-
ing list is accompanied by a marker/colored pencil illustration.)
NUGGET. It looks like you’re wondering what Ibsen wrote. I’ll
give you the highlights. 1879. A Doll’s House. 1881. Ghosts. 1886.
Rommers, um, holm. 1890. 1890.
(IBSEN separates his food into different piles with the precision of a
surgeon. MRS. IBSEN reads the paper.)
MRS. IBSEN. Ibsen. Ibsen.
(Silence.)
It says “A Doll’s House encourages the freedom of the fairer sex to
do what she pleases and not be trapped in the steamy kitchen of her
own despair—” Ha—ha—steamy kitchen of despair—
(She laughs for a while.)
Shall I cut it out and paste it in our memory book? Shall I paste it…
(He begins to pick raisins out of a piece of bread.)
Don’t pick at your raisins!
(He continues picking.)
Are you being a little freak again? “Yes, my love, it is Monday and I
am being a little freak again and I will be a freak tomorrow and the
day after and the day after…” Hello! We have a freak at our table!
What if I made you a little red suit that said Freak on it and it had
big brass buttons? What are you—what—
(IBSEN takes the newspaper from her hands and puts his dinner in-
side it and wraps it neatly up in a ball and returns it to her.)
You freeeeeak. FREEEAAK. FRRRREEEAAK.
(IBSEN closes his eyes.)
What are you doing?
IBSEN. Removing myself from your world.
(A moment.)
MRS. IBSEN. I’m hiring a maid.
(MRS. IBSEN leaves.)
NUGGET. The summer of 1890 was a wretched summer. It was
wretched. Ibsen worked day and night on his new play.
(IBSEN gets out a case with tiny dolls made out of wood.)
IBSEN. (In a voice:)Hello—
(In a different voice:)
There’s a gentlemen at the door to see you—
(In a different voice:)
I found your slippers—
VOICE OF MRS. IBSEN. I CAN HEAR YOU!
NUGGET. Hedda Gabler is about a woman named Hedda Gabler.
She is sad and angry and pregnant. And then she has a gun and she
shoots herself. She got married to a man she didn’t love because he
bought her a house. This play taught me not to marry a man who
buys me a house. I chose to write about Hedda Gabler because I
don’t know. And also because I have a personal connection to the
play that Mrs. Webber asked me not to talk about. So. I won’t talk
about it.
 (Lights up on a suburban kitchen. Two normal guys in their thirties,
RICK GORDON and CUBBY GORDON talk into a camera oper-
ated by FILM STUDENT. The picture is projected live onto two
screens above the audience. NUGGET loiters in the back.)
RICK. Robots. Um. I did some internet research. I’m definitely in-
terested in the whole technology thing—that’s why I work at Sta-
ples. Corporate. But it’s not like I’m (Nerd voice:) “I love. Robots” or
anything—I don’t read sci-fi books, I go to church.
CUBBY. Robots are screwed up. Like cloning.
RICK. I don’t get how it’s like cloning.
CUBBY. Cloning is a hot topic.
RICK. Definitely, um. We got a call from the neighbors saying
they’d seen something that looked like robots leave the house that
afternoon—and that was, that was—a shock.
CUBBY. I mean: that’s what happens when you don’t lock the
door—huh? Pret-ty stupid.
RICK. I didn’t even know we had robots in the area, but you know,
it turns out they’re everywhere—I know it sounds crazy, but we’re
just trying to, trying to find her—and then Cubby showed up—
This is Cubby. Cubby’s helped me out a lot since. The. Thing. Hap-
pened.
CUBBY. I read about it in the papers—I came right here. I knew my
brother needed me.
RICK. I had no one. My wife was gone, I had no one.
CUBBY. Aw, Rick, huggy for Cubby.
RICK. Aw, huggy for Cubby.
CUBBY. Rick’s kind of a pussy—
RICK. Cubby helps me out sometimes. He helps me channel some
of my feelings into more productive actions.
CUBBY. Now film me eating this sandwich. Now talk about me
eating the sandwich.
RICK. I don’t know what I would have done without Cubby here—
Now I’ve always got a roast beef sandwich in the fridge waiting for
him— He loves roast beef—
CUBBY. I love roast beef.
RICK. I have big stacks of it in the fridge now—
CUBBY. Rick’s like, he’s one of those guys who acts one way
around his buddies and then goes home and takes out a loofa—
RICK. Ha, ha. Well, what about you, Cubby?
CUBBY. What are you talking about?
RICK. All your problems with anxiety? After the divorce— What?
(A slight pause. And then CUBBY laughs uncomfortably and it
trails off.)
CUBBY. Questions thou shalt not ask. Yeah. Yeah.
RICK. I thought Cubby was in Boston, but turns out he was in
Hungary.
CUBBY. Hungary. In the shipping industry.
FILM STUDENT. Hungary is landlocked.
CUBBY. No. No it’s not.
FILM STUDENT. Yes it is.
CUBBY. You want me to get a map, you little asshole?
FILM STUDENT. You hired me. I didn’t hire me.
CUBBY. Your ad said you were 45—
FILM STUDENT. That was a typo—
RICK. Maybe it sounds like we’re trying to make a profit off of this.
We’re not.
CUBBY. Bottom line: We have a story to tell. So we thought we
should try to get some network interest.
RICK. It was Cubby’s idea—
CUBBY. It was both of us, we put our heads together—
RICK. But it was your—
CUBBY. A story like this, you could probably get a lot of advertis-
ers interested. Like. Coke!
RICK. Kinkos. Cannon cameras. Lance Armstrong.
CUBBY. I mean we’ve got a story to sell. And in this marketplace of
information, are we the criminals? We are not.
RICK. I mean she’s my wife.
CUBBY. That’s human feelings. That’s real.
RICK. She’s my wife.
CUBBY. And I’m his brother.
RICK. And he’s my brother.
CUBBY. And that’s the kid.
(NUGGET stares at the camera.)
She’s cute. She looks like a Chicken McNugget.
RICK. Cubby started calling her Nugget—
CUBBY. Hey Nugget—
RICK. I think that’s hilarious—
(NUGGET glares at him.)
She loves it.
(NUGGET says nothing.)
CUBBY. She’s got kind of a rat face. You know?
RICK. Cubby—
CUBBY. (Softly:) What?
FILM STUDENT. Talk about your Mom, Nugget.
NUGGET. I was in the car with Mom when she ran into a brick
wall.
RICK. I—uh—Jane was having a hard time. You know. What’s that
song? “It’s hard to be a woman?”
FILM STUDENT. “Stand by your man?”
RICK. No. No that’s not it— No. You know, since the abduction, I
keep thinking about “Honey I Shrunk the Kids.” Maybe she’s
somewhere in the house, but she’s just really tiny.
NUGGET. That’s impossible because we don’t have that special
shrinking machine.
RICK. Ha. Just really tiny.
NUGGET. Dad?
(During this speech, lights up on JANE exactly where we left her—
sitting on the couch staring at the book. The book is not open. She
eventually puts it down and gets out a video, puts it in the VCR.)
RICK. But in terms of our marriage—we’re—we’re doing okay. I
mean she’s pregnant. We’re—it’s hard. You know. It’s not easy to
live in this country and not kill yourself. Working so hard. Health
insurance. It’s not easy. And what? On top of everything else, we’re
supposed to, to love each other like teenagers?
CUBBY. Stop being boring Rick.
RICK. Well, what do you guys want to hear?
FILM STUDENT. Um. Robots. The Abduction.
(JANE sits watching a home video [that we see projected on the wall
behind her]. The following is a video.)
(JANE, on screen, is cleaning off her gun. After a moment, she looks
up and sees the camera. RICK is filming.)
RICK’S VOICE. Oh hi Jane! It’s Jane! Look how big she’s getting.
We’re making a video for Mom, you want to say something?
JANE. How’s the old person home?
RICK’S VOICE. Oh, that’s not…I’m going to rewind. Oh hi Jane!
It’s Jane! Look how big she’s getting! Why don’t you tell us what
you’re doing, Jane?
JANE. I’m cleaning my Beretta.
RICK’S VOICE. And who got it for you?
JANE. Rick got it for me, for my birthday.
RICK’S VOICE. Thanks Rick.
JANE’S VOICE. Thanks Rick.
(NUGGET enters wearing a party hat.)
NUGGET. Mom! Mom! I love you! Mom! Happy Birthday Mom!
RICK’S VOICE. Tell us—what’s the best thing about birthdays,
honey? Is it the cake?
JANE. (Overlapping:) Can you—uh—can you get that thing out of
my face—Rick, I’m serious—
NUGGET. (A bad imitation:) I’m serious, Rick, I’m serious—
(We see JANE walking up to the camera and taking it from RICK.
She turns the camera to the window, and films cold November trees.)
RICK’S VOICE. Why are you—
JANE’S VOICE. I’m shooting the trees. The cold November trees.
(There is shaky, handheld footage of November trees.)
JANE’S VOICE. Life becomes small…
NUGGET’S VOICE. Mom, mom, stop shooting the trees—
JANE’S VOICE. Life splits apart—and you forget the things you
wanted used to be enormous—the things you felt were enormous—
NUGGET’S VOICE. Mom, mom, we’re all going to a movie, okay?
Dad said he’d go see that movie—
RICK’S VOICE. I’m not going—
NUGGET’S VOICE. And can you sign this permission slip? We’re
having a contest in French class to see how many snails you can eat.
(A moment.)
JANE’S VOICE. I want to go somewhere with vines hanging down.
I want to get leaves in my hair.
(JANE gets her gun out of a box of cereal. She looks at it—she loves
it—maybe starts to sing “Janie’s Got a Gun” very softly. She points
the gun at stuff, enjoying it. She picks up the book again. This time
she opens it…)
 (As she opens the book the stage lights up and we hear:
VVVVOOOOM.)
(IBSEN is at dinner with MRS. IBSEN and ELSE, a beautiful maid
wearing a revealing maid’s outfit is serving the food. IBSEN stares
at her with his mouth open.)
MRS. IBSEN. What do you think of Else? I think she’s adorable.
And cheap. She looks just like a bunch of strawberries, don’t you
think, Ibsen? Just plucked right off the bush? Ibsen?
ELSE. How about another scoop of cream?
(ELSE holds two pitchers of cream up to her chest. IBSEN can’t
answer.)
MRS. IBSEN. That was a lovely lunch, Else, just lovely. Wouldn’t
you say, Ibsen?
(ELSE reaches over him to pick up a plate, IBSEN breaks out in a
terrible coughing fit.)
MRS. IBSEN. What? What? Something caught in your pipes?
ELSE. Oh Mr. Ibsen—you’re bright red!
(ELSE holds him to her breast and pours water down his throat. He
stops coughing and pulls away suddenly.)
ELSE. Just need to get your throat a little wet, Mr. Ibsen.
MRS. IBSEN. Want to know a secret? I think your little breasts
made him cough like that—
ELSE. No! No!
MRS. IBSEN. Yes! They’re peppy, like a bunch of peppy pears.
What do you think, Ibsen?
IBSEN. “Women have poorly developed will power so they spend
their lives dreaming of something that will give their lives meaning.
Their passivity makes them prey to unhealthy emotional states and
condemns them to lives of disappointment.”
(In a different part of the stage—NUGGET holds up a poster-board
with that quote printed out and: “Ibsen’s Notes 1890.”)
MRS. IBSEN. Hah. Sounds like you.
 (MRS. IBSEN exits. Silence.)
IBSEN. Else?
ELSE. Oh! You know my name?
(A slight pause.)
IBSEN. I. Yes. Oh god.
(Action freezes and spotlight up on NUGGET.)
NUGGET. Ibsen was an important writer because he liberated
women from years of doing chores. This made many people un-
happy, because who was going to do the chores now? What’s funny
is that people keep doing his plays even though now women are
free.
(NUGGET smiles a wide smile.)
(Action resumes.)
ELSE. So you write plays?
IBSEN. Hhhm.
ELSE. I go to shows in the city. Sometimes they have real trains
come on stage. I like trains. But what do I know about plays, right?
Give me a fish and I’ll fry it.
(IBSEN makes a strange face.)
ELSE. What’s that? Is that your fish face?
(ELSE makes it back. A moment.)
ELSE. Mr. Ibsen, as the kitchen maid, I’m willing to. Work in the
kitchen. You know? I wouldn’t mind getting my hands dirty… Your
wife seems like a nice woman.
IBSEN. She likes to hike. I don’t hike.
ELSE. That’s wonderful. And, and you brought her here to Munich,
I’m sure she’s happy about that—because you used to live in Nor-
way… And hey, now you’re in Munich…
IBSEN. I don’t want a maid. It’s my wife’s idea, because I haven’t
been eating or sleeping.
ELSE. You haven’t been eating or—
IBSEN. My wife protects me the way a fly protects a rotting apple.
Marriage is a state of perpetual decay.
(Awkward.)
ELSE. Sounds like your wife’s not such a good cook.
IBSEN. You can’t be happy here Else—don’t you want to get out?
Get out! People will tell you that you cannot think for yourself or
have what you want because you were not built that way. But is
this all we have? These little tugs and stares, these systems of shame
and propriety that make you stay exactly where you are?
ELSE. I like being in the house. It’s not as loud as the factory.
IBSEN. Louder than my wife?
(IBSEN laughs.)
ELSE. I didn’t know you could laugh! Oh tell a joke!
IBSEN. The mole on my wife’s face.
ELSE. Yes?
IBSEN. I don’t know. You’re beautiful. You remind me of my
mother.
ELSE. Oh.
IBSEN. She was beautiful. She would hear songs on the street and
come home and sing. Like you.
ELSE. I don’t sing.
IBSEN. I’m a sure you have a beau… Someone courting you?
ELSE. Mr. Ibsen, I’m a kitchen slut.
IBSEN. That’s not what you are, that’s what people have made you
become! The next time someone—someone climbs on top of you,
you get them off, sit them down, and tell them they have no right to
treat you that way—say it, say it!
ELSE. They have no right to…they have no right to treat me that
way!
(Acting out the scene:)
ELSE. You have no right to treat me that way!
IBSEN. Yes! Yes! Else, all creatures move towards freedom, some
more slowly than others, but there will come a day when the tiny
concerns of the living room will be obliterated by freedom every-
where—
ELSE. I hope I’m free from the factory.
IBSEN. Yes!
ELSE. I never want to go back there— When the foreman was rap-
ing my mother, I stabbed him in the leg, and he stopped raping her,
because his leg was bleeding. And then he beat me and then he
fired us. But then my mother starved to death when we lost our jobs
so maybe I should have just let him rape her, you know? Probably
should have let him rape me too… What’s wrong?
IBSEN. Else—
VOICE OF MRS. IBSEN. Ibsen!
ELSE. Your plays are in the study.
IBSEN. Did you read them?
ELSE. The pages were all ripped and also I can’t read.
IBSEN. Sometimes I smash the pages with a hammer until they are
destroyed. This is my hammer.
(IBSEN takes out his box with his hammer and dolls.)
ELSE. Are these dolls?
IBSEN. Yes.
ELSE. Oh.
IBSEN. Do you still think I’m handsome?
(A silence.)
ELSE. Can I pull on your muttonchops?
IBSEN. I don’t think so.
(Silence.)
VOICE OF MRS. IBSEN. Ibsen! We’re having fish for dinner!
HAA! Fish! I got fish!
 (IBSEN makes his fish face. ELSE makes one back at him. ELSE runs
off. IBSEN gets out his dolls.)
IBSEN. (In a voice:) What would we be, you and me, when the
world broke down? No more trains, no more wells, no more roads,
no more dinners, no more pretty hats…
(JANE is reading out loud from the Hedda Gabler book.)
JANE. (Reading:) “And the hardest of all… To be with the same in-
dividual, every second, day after day…”
IBSEN. (In a voice:) Save me…
JANE. Day after day…
IBSEN. (In a voice:) I’ll save you…
(IBSEN makes the dolls kiss…)
(FILM STUDENT is filming CUBBY and RICK in the kitchen.)
CUBBY. Get a shot of him saying robots.
FILM STUDENT. I’ll go tight on your lips.
(We see a tight shot of RICK’s lips on the monitor.)
RICK. Ro. Bots. Ro. Bots. (Continues…)
FILM STUDENT. I’m so tight on your lips right now man—yes—
yes—
CUBBY. What’s the matter with you? I thought you’d done this be-
fore?
FILM STUDENT. Yeah I’ve done it before, how do you think I got
this sweet-ass camera?
CUBBY. Anyone can buy a camera.
FILM STUDENT. Not this camera.
CUBBY. Why? Is it a magic camera?
FILM STUDENT. Yes. It’s a magic camera.
(A slight pause.)
RICK. Guys.
FILM STUDENT. Hey. I’ve worked so hard on this. I have proba-
bly 100 hours of footage. I did some tough interviews—
CUBBY. Let me ask you something—what are you doing about
your acne? I mean it’s like Jesus Christ get help. You got a mountain
range. You’ve got the goddamn Himalayas—
FILM STUDENT. (Overlapping:) I don’t have to fucking do this.
CUBBY. (Overlapping:) It’s like the Andes—
FILM STUDENT. (Overlapping:) What the fuck is your problem—
CUBBY. (Overlapping:) I need a Sherpa just to look at you—
FILM STUDENT. You want to throw down?
CUBBY. Get yourself some kind of topical cream. Okay?
FILM STUDENT. I’ve got topical cream.
CUBBY. Yeah?
FILM STUDENT. I’ve got a shitload of topical cream.
CUBBY. Well lather it on. Just…lather it. Jesus.
(NUGGET enters wearing a T-shirt that says: DNA and a double
helix hat made out of tin-foil.)
RICK. Hi Nugget.
NUGGET. Am I going to—
CUBBY. (Crying?) Why do we have to fight all the time?
(CUBBY leaves in disgust. It’s awkward for a moment.)
NUGGET. Hey Dad, am I going to be on anti-depressants because
Mom is?
RICK. No. We can’t afford it.
NUGGET. Why not?
RICK. Because your mother got first dibs.
NUGGET. So if she killed herself we could afford it?
(RICK looks at her.)
RICK. Yeah. Guess so.
NUGGET. Dad.
RICK. I know.
NUGGET. Dad.
(A heavy pause.)
FILM STUDENT. How’s life been since the abduction?
NUGGET. I did my report on DNA today and I choreographed a
dance to Shaggy. You didn’t ask me how it went.
RICK. I don’t know who Shaggy is.
NUGGET. A rapper from Jamaica.
FILM STUDENT. So do you want to study DNA when you grow
up?
(NUGGET shakes her head. She shakes her head after the next two
questions.)
FILM STUDENT. Do you want to be a big businesswoman? Do
you want to have a successful marriage?
(NUGGET stares at the camera.)
FILM STUDENT. How bout you show us your dance to Shaggy?
RICK. Hey. Hey. Show us your dance.
NUGGET. Okay!
(NUGGET dances to Shaggy’s remix of “Angel of the Morning.”
RICK self-consciously tries to get into it like a “hip” dad.)
(NUGGET stops all of a sudden and looks into the camera:)
NUGGET. MOM, MOM, MOM, MOM—
RICK. Hey, hey kiddo—come on—
(RICK carries her off stage screaming “MOM.”)
(JANE reads on the couch.)
JANE. (Reading:) “And the hardest of all to be with the same indi-
vidual, every second, day after day…” Day after day… Every sec-
ond…
 (A flash of light. JANE freezes as a close-up of the ENGINEER’s
blank face comes on the screen. He is listening to the FILM STU-
DENT off camera.)
FILM STUDENT’S VOICE. Okay—isn’t there a chance—isn’t there
a chance that with all the information that these machines take in
every day that at some point something starts sticking? I mean in-
formation can’t pass through something forever without leaving a
mark, right?
(Another flash of light. JANE resumes reading.)
JANE. (Reading:) “And the hardest of all… To sit side by side in the
carriage with just one man…”
(The door behind JANE magically opens and from off stage we see a
shaft of light. We hear:)
HANS’ VOICE. Every second. Day after day. Every second.
JANE. “And the trip will go on and on—I’ve only come to one stop
on the line.”
(Suddenly HANS, a gleaming robot, enters the set and stands in the
light of the doorway, fogging and whistling.)
HANS. “One jumps out…one stretches one’s legs… Oh Hedda.
Couldn’t you find some goal in life to work toward? Others do.”
(Suddenly another shaft of light and another robot, BILLY, appears.)
BILLY. Legs. Legs. Goal. Legs.
(Both robots turn and face JANE— moving slowly forward.)
JANE. “I often think I have talent for only one thing in life— Boring
myself to death!”
BILLY and HANS. Turn around Jane.
(Blackout. A moment of silence in the dark.)
NUGGET. So why is Ibsen so important to the world? I will tell
you. Ibsen invented the Well-Made Play. Before Ibsen, plays were
not well-made. The Well-Made Play is exactly what it sounds like:
Everything starts off because something happens. And then the
people on stage remember things and then they tell each other they
remember them—like: Hey remember when this happened? And
the other person is like: Yeah, I remember that. Oh, I wonder what
happened to that person…and then that person usually shows up at
the door and remembers all of these other things— And there’s a
maid. And it all takes place in one room. Which adds to the tension.
So you get really nervous and then there is a moment of transcen-
dent realization and everything gets resolved and you think: oh,
this play was so well made.
(IBSEN is combing the hair of one of his dolls. ELSE stands behind
him, watching.)
(STRINDBERG enters.)
(There’s a small plate of teacakes between them on the table.)
IBSEN. Strindberg.
STRINDBERG. Ibsen.
IBSEN. Strindberg.
STRINDBERG. Ibsen.
(ELSE screams in horror and runs off. Eyes lock.)
NUGGET. August Strindberg was also a playwright. He was from
Sweden. It looks like you’re wondering what Strindberg wrote. I’ll
give you the highlights. 1888. Miss Julie.
(A long pause.)
NUGGET. Ibsen kept a picture of Strindberg over his desk his
whole life because he hated him so much.
(Action resumes.)
IBSEN. Strindberg.
STRINDBERG. Ibsen.
(Silence. STRINDBERG starts to laugh.)
IBSEN. What—what is it?
STRINDBERG. Nothing, nothing, I’m sorry—
(Silence. STRINDBERG starts to laugh again.)
IBSEN. I don’t—I don’t get it.
STRINDBERG. I’m just—I’m just—
IBSEN. What are you thinking about? Is it a joke—
STRINDBERG. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry—
IBSEN. Something funny? I heard something funny on the train the
other day. It was about a woman with jaundice— Yellow some-
thing. Oh. What was it? “She’s a yellow woman”—something like—
it was so funny— Oh, oh. Oh. Funny. Aaaah.
STRINDBERG. Hm.
IBSEN. Do you ever do that—where you hear something funny and
you have to write it down because you know if you don’t, it’s going
to be wiped utterly from your mind? See. Look. I carry a little note-
book around with me. Look at my notebook.
(IBSEN shows STRINDBERG his notebook, STRINDBERG reaches
for it, IBSEN moves it away.)
STRINDBERG. I’ve got a notebook.
IBSEN. Show it to me.
(STRINDBERG takes out his notebook. It’s fat and spattered with
stuff—blood? I don’t know.)
IBSEN. Wow. That’s big.
STRINDBERG. Uh-huh. Big.
IBSEN. Big book.
STRINDBERG. It’s really big.
IBSEN. I like to keep mine small so that it can fit neatly in my bag.
STRINDBERG. Let’s see your bag.
IBSEN. You want to see my bag?
STRINDBERG. Yeah, let’s see your bag.
IBSEN. Fine. Here it is.
(IBSEN holds up a bag—it is delicate, neat, clean. Maybe it has a lit-
tle tasteful embroidery.)
IBSEN. And see, it’s nice because it has all of these pockets. This is
where I keep two to three extra quills. And I keep some hay and
oats for the horses in this pocket—see I’ve labeled it “Horse
Food”— Hankies. And then over here I keep my emergency pack—
I’ve never had to use it thank god, but I keep a tall white candle in
there, some wax in case I have to quickly construct another tall,
white, candle. My hammer…
(A moment.)
So let’s see your bag.
(STRINDBERG tosses his bag on the table. It’s tattered and bloody.
There’s a long row of condoms spilling out, animal fur, a dream-
catcher, and an empty beer can.)
IBSEN. Aaah. What are—
(IBSEN holds up a pair of women’s panties, with surprise and dis-
gust.)
IBSEN. Oh god!
(STRINDBERG grabs the panties and feels them deeply with his
fingers.)
STRINDBERG. Mud. Oceans of mud. Dirty ooze, rising up from
the depths of the ocean of lust. Her screams match the screams of
the beasts of the jungle. Mud, mud on my face, mud on my hands, I
start to fall, oh I am falling, Oh. Still falling. Oh.
(STRINDBERG tosses the panties on top of his bag and looks at
IBSEN.)
IBSEN. Sounds like I lot of mud. (IBSEN giggles:) I like to keep
things tidy. I’ve played in the field, believe me, but I prefer to wash
out the grass stains when it’s done. Am I being clear?
STRINDBERG. Not really.
IBSEN. As one would eat when one is hungry and fast when one is
married, so goes my appetite—
STRINDBERG. What?
IBSEN. I have enjoyed la pudenda—
STRINDBERG. The what?
IBSEN. The…yes—
STRINDBERG. So, what’s the craziest place you’ve ever done it?
IBSEN. I won’t have this conversation with you—
STRINDBERG. I did it on a pile of nails.
IBSEN. Bathroom sink. We broke the mirror.
STRINDBERG. A vat of butter.
IBSEN. Vienna.
STRINDBERG. Vienna?
IBSEN. I went there, look… I was wondering if you could remove
your bag from the table. I wouldn’t want my teacakes to get syphi-
lis.
(STRINDBERRG takes the bag off the table. IBSEN takes a teacake
and then a napkin and starts eating it in little bites. STRINDBERG
takes two and puts them in his mouth at once. He chews ravenously,
crumbs flying. IBSEN quickly finishes his, and grabs another.
STRINDBERG grabs two more, IBSEN swats one out of his hands
and gobbles it down. STRINDBERG, mid-chew, coughs a little,
which throws him off and allows IBSEN to go for the final teacake,
throwing caution to the wind. STRINDBERG, not to be out done,
tries to bite into the plate. He can’t. IBSEN raises his arms in tri-
umph. STRINDBERG waves him off.)
IBSEN. Urrrrgh! Hmmgghgh!
(ELSE enters carrying more teacakes.)
ELSE. More teacakes.
(STRINDBERG stares at ELSE. He grunts, she eats a teacake. Ac-
tion freezes for a moment, as NUGGET speaks:)
NUGGET. But Hedda Gabler is not well made. Why? “Something
must have happened to Ibsen to enable him to write a play that did
not rely on God or genetic theory.” I copied that. But I like the part
where it says: “Something must have happened to Ibsen.”
(Action begins again: STRINDBERG grabs ELSE’s hand.)
STRINDBERG. Have you ever held a slug in your fingers until you
felt it die?
IBSEN. That’ll be all, Else.
ELSE. Do you want…what…a slug…
IBSEN. That will be all. Thank you Else.
(ELSE runs out.)
STRINDBERG. Aaaaah. Look at us. We’re eating from the same
plate of teacakes, aren’t we? Listen, along those lines. Your wife.
(IBSEN ducks.)
IBSEN. Where?
STRINDBERG. No. I came here to sleep with your wife. We’ve
been corresponding for weeks. She came to see one of my shows—I
found out who she was, I got some comps. Look, the point is. I’m
here and—
(ELSE enters, flustered, and stares at STRINDBERG.)
ELSE. I killed a slug.
STRINDBERG. With your fingers?
IBSEN. Else!
(ELSE runs out of the room.)
STRINDBERG. I’d like to soak her in a bucket till she puckers.
(A slight pause as he looks off in her direction.)
STRINDBERG. So, I can take the guest bedroom as long as there’s
a fireplace—
IBSEN. Yes, there’s a fire place!
STRINDBERG. No need to get upset. I just wanted it to be nice and
warm when we take our clothes off. And where’s that kitchen
maid?
IBSEN. Probably in the kitchen making more teacakes. Why?
STRINDBERG. Those were delicious. Delicious.
(STRINDBERG licks his lips, takes his bag and starts to exit.)
IBSEN. Wait— You were laughing at something. When you first
came in. What was it?
STRINDBERG. Oh. It’s your hair.
(STRINDBERG exits, still laughing. IBSEN throws the dolls off the
table in disgust. He gets out a block of wood and a chisel and starts to
whittle something new…)
(NUGGET, in the dark kitchen, watches a video. It’s the home video
of Jane’s birthday that we’ve seen before—November trees against a
blue sky.)
(After a moment, FILM STUDENT enters.)
FILM STUDENT. What do you got there Nugget? Is that a video of
your mom?
NUGGET. I’m looking for clues.
FILM STUDENT. (As he’s exiting:) Alright.
(The robots stand behind JANE, who reads on the couch.)
HANS. Turn around Jane. This is her. This is her room. This is my
head. This is my face. This is my heart. This is my head. This is my
face. Billy. Billy. Billy.
BILLY. All. This. Time. My. Name. Was. Billy. And. I. Never. Knew.
HANS. We robots, we want to take you away from here, we want
to make theater with you Jane—
BILLY. No. No. Talk. About. Her. Body.
HANS. We want to love you like in your hip-hop songs.
BILLY. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty.
HANS. I am an enormously large robot and I am also a large poet.
Turn around Jane. Bump, bump, what’s that? That’s my robot heart
beating itself to death inside my rock hard torso-tron. Turn around,
Jane. Turn around and look, look at all of this stuff piling up around
you. My penal shaft is enormous. It is also metal. This is the mo-
ment, this is exactly the moment.
(IBSEN holds up the corresponding wooden doll with each other of
the characters as BILLY talks.)
BILLY. Mrs. Elvsted. Judge. Brack. Eilert. Lovborg. Berta. The.
Tesman’s. Maid. Jokes. Jokes. Jokes.
HANS. Stop telling jokes, Billy. This is serious.
BILLY. Aarrrgh. I Love. Her. I Would. Melt. Myself. For. Her.
HANS. I know, Billy.
BILLY. I Would. Stand. Underneath. A. Waterfall. For. 10 years.
For. Her.
HANS. Jane, Jane, listen to the sound of my enormous robot scro-
tum.
BILLY. Bang. Bang.
HANS. Listen to that, Jane. Listen to that.
BILLY. Scrotum. Ha. Ha. Scrotum. Yes.
JANE.
Buy chicken
Sculpt thighs
Fold laundry
Watch video
Google France
(A moment. She starts to erase the other items on the list.)
Paint the ceiling… Nope.
Read My Heart is A Lonely Hunter
The kitty litter situation
Refill prescription
Call Blockbuster about late-fees, be mean
Clean gun.
(JANE picks up her gun. Looks at it. Puts it down. Then:)
Check. Make soup. Make.
HANS. I want to be your Lov…borg, Jane. Better than all the others.
Will you ever see me? Will you ever turn around and see this robot
sitting right behind you who loves you?
(JANE picks up the gun again and holds it up to her head and closes
her eyes as if she’s going to shoot. The robots whistle and steam.)
BILLY. Gun. Gun. Gun.
(Instead of shooting, she starts looking through her purse. JANE
finds a stick of gum.)
BILLY. Gum.
(JANE tries to unwrap the gum while continuing to hold the gun up
to her head. She succeeds and puts it in her mouth. She chews.)
BILLY. Gum. Gun. Gum, Gum. Gun.
(Over the next section: JANE is chewing more and more gum, while
holding the gun up to her head. IBSEN furiously whittles his doll.)
(NUGGET, still watching the video in the kitchen, sees something in
the monitor.)
NUGGET. OH MY GOD!
(NUGGET runs out.)
(A large booming noise and the ENGINEER’s face appears on the
large screens.)
ENGINEER. But—think for a second? What is singularity? Just self-
awareness. And that’s not fun!! Oh boy is that not fun! And it’s es-
pecially not going to be fun if you’re a toaster who suddenly wakes
up and realizes you’ve been making toast for years! And for what!
There’s a whole life out there! What would you do with your body
if you knew it had been built just to be used by someone else? You
got all this so-called self-awareness, but there’s nothing about you
that’s really your own—
(NUGGET runs into the kitchen, where CUBBY and RICK are be-
ing filmed by the FILM STUDENT. NUGGET runs in front of the
FILM STUDENT’s camera and screams.)
CUBBY. Holy Jesus—
FILM STUDENT. Psycho-thrillah—
RICK. (Overlapping:) Nugget! Why are you screaming? Don’t
scream, don’t scream—
NUGGET. I’ve got something to say.
RICK. Well, we’re doing this thing right now.
NUGGET. You gotta listen to me, LISTEN TO ME—
CUBBY. (Overlapping:) I told you not to make Cubby anxious—
DON’T MAKE CUBBY ANXIOUS, DON’T MAKE CUBBY ANX-
IOUS—
NUGGET. I KNOW WHERE MOM IS!
(A moment.)
NUGGET. Put the camera on me.
RICK. What?
NUGGET. Look at this. Look at this.
(We see the video of JANE filming the trees. Pictures of trees con-
tinue.)
JANE’S VOICE. (On screen:) I want to go somewhere with vines
hanging down. I want to get leaves in my hair.
NUGGET. She went to the forest. She’s in the forest.
RICK. There are a lot of forests.
NUGGET. A vine-forest.
FILM STUDENT. A rainforest.
(They all stare at him.)
FILM STUDENT. Ecuador.
RICK. What?
NUGGET. The rainforest. She went to the rainforest. You got to
save her, you got to save her—
CUBBY. We’ll save her.
RICK. The rainforest? The rainforest-rainforest?
FILM STUDENT. But now it’s like the robotforest.
NUGGET. It’s Robotforest!
CUBBY. We’re going to take them down. You want to know what I
was doing in Hungary?
 (CUBBY opens his suitcase. It’s filled with gleaming guns, big crazy
machine guns, ammunition, a flame thrower.)
CUBBY. Yeeeeeah, yeeeeeeeeah! Flame throwa!
(He jumps around waving his arms up and down.)
ENGINEER. Robotforest? I don’t understand… I don’t…under-
stand…
BILLY. Jokes. Jokes. Rainforest. Jokes. Reeee… Reee…I can’t. Han-
dle. The. Pressure.
ENGINEER. ROBOTFOREST? There’s no such thing! OH MY
GOD!
(IBSEN holds up his new doll.)
IBSEN. ELSE! LOOK WHAT I MADE! ELSE!
(IBSEN turns and sees—)
(Bright, blinding light. STRINDBERG and ELSE are tangled up in
each other on the floor. IBSEN stands, shocked.)
(STRINGBERG pulls his pants back up.)
STRINGBERG. I’m free…she’s free…we’re all free…
(STRINDBERG laughs and stands off to the side. IBSEN stares at
ELSE.)
ELSE. Don’t be jealous! Do you want to put it inside me?
(ELSE pulls her dress over her head.)
Come on—
(IBSEN grabs onto ELSE.)
IBSEN. What would we be when the world broke down? No
more—no more trains—no more—
ELSE. You have no right to treat me that way—
(IBSEN holds the hammer up threateningly.)
ELSE. (To STRINDBERG:) Help!
(STRINDBERG does nothing. ELSE screams.)
ELSE. You freak—you crazy freak, you’re both freaks— Everything
is dark for me now!
(She runs out.)
(IBSEN sinks to the floor.)
STRINDBERG. What did you think would happen? She’s a kitchen
slut.
(A moment.)
STRINDBERG. Don’t be glum.
IBSEN. I’m not glum.
STRINDBERG. You look glum. You have a bad marriage and
you’ve spent years inflicting it on everyone else. Just cheat on your
wife.
IBSEN. What is freedom?
STRINDBERG. You’re a coward. And you’re smug. I hate people
like you, Ibsen.
(A MONKEY enters and sidles up to STRINDBERG.)
STRINDBERG. Hello, Jean.
IBSEN. What’s that?
STRINDBERG. My monkey.
IBSEN. We were all monkeys once.
STRINDBERG. We’re men now, Ibsen, and you are free. And I’m
free. And your wife is free. And we all just live for ourselves. This is
it. We’re not moving towards anything.
IBSEN. You’re wrong.
STRINDBERG. You’re wrong.
IBSEN. You’re wrong.
STRINDBERG’S MONKEY. Eeek.
STRINDBERG. Your wife tells me you used to play with dolls—
fascinating.
(A moment.)
IBSEN. I did play with dolls. She’s right.
STRINDBERG. Nothing to be ashamed of. I crushed up berries
and pretended to menstruate until I was 15.
IBSEN. My father.
STRINDBERG. What?
IBSEN. My father beat my mother senseless. I watched him do it. I
listened through walls, underneath my pillow. I slept through it.
She would hide underneath my bed. I would wake up to the smell
of her blood drying. You’re right. I played with dolls. I did nothing.
I do nothing.
(A moment.)
STRINDBERG. And what could you have done?
(STRINDBERG gets his coat and bag.)
STRINDBERG. What are you working on here?
IBSEN. Don’t touch. Please.
(STRINDBERG picks up the newest doll.)
BILLY’S VOICE. Characters. George. Tesman.
IBSEN. Something new. Bad marriage. Living room.
STRINDBERG. And how does she escape this time? Out the door,
like always?
IBSEN. An old flame rescues her, and, and they go off together.
She’s free.
STRINDBERG. Henrik, why do you think you can save her?
(STRINDBERG leaves with his MONKEY. IBSEN holds up a doll.)
BILLY’S VOICE. Hedda. Tesman. His. Wife.
(CUBBY and RICK gearing up Rambo-style to go into Robotforest,
talking to the camera. NUGGET is nearby. The room is now covered
in guns, weaponry.)
CUBBY. We’re heading into the rainforest, we’ve charted a small
plane—
RICK. I sold my lawn-mower on e-bay—sold my lawn-mower—
sold a couple t-shirts—
CUBBY. Hand me that Hot Jimmy—
(NUGGET hands him an enormous gun.)
RICK. Sold my T-shirt collection—
CUBBY. Didn’t sell the kid—
RICK. I had no idea Cubby was a small arms dealer—
CUBBY. Yeah, I’m a small arms dealer—shh!
(NUGGET holds up her arms.)
NUGGET. I got small arms.
(CUBBY and RICK continue to prepare, as the ENGINEER comes
on screen above their heads.)
ENGINEER. We don’t have our hands on the right buttons—we
ain’t got the plug! They’re holding their own plugs! It’s out of our
control—it’s getting out of our control—
(As CUBBY and RICK speak, IBSEN moves around the space,
newly energized. IBSEN’s lines overlap.)
IBSEN. “A wide, dark, porcelain stove, a high-backed armchair, a
cushioned footstool, and two taborets—”
CUBBY. I started selling small arms after the divorce—
RICK. It was nasty—
CUBBY. Can’t let anyone in your heart—could somebody strap on
my gun belt? She took the house, I went to Hungary and got con-
nected—
IBSEN. “A number of bouquets of flowers around the drawing
room in vases and glasses. Others lie on the tables.”
CUBBY. Look. I know there’s a lot of bullshit going around. I can
see it in the air. Like tiny particles of bullshit. Like bullshit atoms.
IBSEN. “The floors of both rooms are covered with thick carpets.
Morning light.”
CUBBY. But I’ve got something to say to the American people. Ever
since what they did to Jane, ever since the Industrial Revolution
there are only three things you should do with a robot. Kill, kill,
and kill.
RICK and NUGGET. Ki-ill! Ki-ill! Ki-ill!
CUBBY. You’ve heard about the girl babies getting killed in China?
Yeah. Like that. Kill them like the girl babies.
CUBBY and RICK. Aaaaarrrgggh—
CUBBY. Are we gonna go get crazy? Let’s go crazy—
RICK. Let’s go crazy.
(CUBBY and RICK run off and the FILM STUDENT follows
them.)
NUGGET. You forgot me!
VOICE OF MRS. IBSEN. AUGUST! AUGUST, I KILLED A SLUG!
(She enters in some kind of lingerie.)
MRS. IBSEN. Oh wonderful. It’s you.
IBSEN. Get out.
MRS. IBSEN. Look at you. My god. What are you going to hit with
your little hammer?
IBSEN. For once in my life, Suzannah—
IBSEN and JANE. “FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE!”
(MRS. IBSEN leaves.)
JANE. Gun, gun, gun—
HANS. Turn around Jane.
IBSEN. “Her complexion is opaque. Pale—”
BILLY. Oh. I. Have. So. Much. Pain.
JANE. (Trying to make herself shoot:) Please, please—
IBSEN. “Her eyes are cold and clear and calm—”
JANE. Please—please—
HANS. We’re going to feel all of our pain, all at once.
BILLY. All. Of. Our. Pain?
HANS. All of it.
IBSEN. “Her figure shows refinement and distinction—”
BILLY. Oh. My. God.
IBSEN. “Her eyes are—”
HANS and BILLY. Turn around, Turn around, Turn around—
JANE. (Overlapping:) 1, 2, 3—
HANS. (Singing, slowly and softly at first:) Turn around. Every now and
then I get a little bit tired and I turn and see the look in your eyes.
(JANE hears the music.)
HANS. Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and
you’re never coming round— Turn around, every now and then I get a lit-
tle bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears— Every now and then I
get a little bit terrified and I turn and see the look in your eyes—
IBSEN. “A loose-fitting morning gown—”
JANE. (Singing, a little unsure:) Turn around, Bright Eyes—
(JANE slowly turns around and sees the robots—she freezes in
shock.)
BILLY. And. I. Need. You. Now. Tonight. Jokes.
HANS. Don’t…
IBSEN. “Her eyes are gray!…”
BILLY. And. I. Need. You. More. Than. Ever. Jokes. Jokes. Jokes. (To
the beat of the song.)
IBSEN. “Sunlight streams through the glass door—”
(JANE is crying, stomping her feet, shouting out the lyrics.)
JANE. (Singing the song:)
EVERY NOW AND THEN I FALL APART!
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you’ll only hold me tight
We’ll be holding on forever
(The song continues; things on stage are starting to change…)
Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I’m only falling apart
There’s nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart…
(MRS. IBSEN and ELSE appear and sing the next verse of the song.
IBSEN holds up the Hedda doll.)
IBSEN. Hedda enters.
(Something happens—lights flash, horns blow, fog.)
BILLY. Heddatron. Heddatron…
(It builds as…)
 PART TWO: Robotforest
(A weird and amazing mystical transformation takes place in front of
our eyes. We are entering Robotforest, and the stage is lighting up.
Glowing rocks, birds, shimmering lights— Out of the dazzle, we can
see the living room become a set for what will be a production of
Hedda Gabler. The entire cast is involved—everyone singing Total
Eclipse of the Heart at full volume.)
(HANS and BILLY are fogging and steaming, bells and whistles,
lights. ROBOTS are everywhere, chaos.)
BILLY. (And all the robots:) HEDDATRON. HEDDATRON.
IBSEN. (Overlapping everything:) “Through the panes one can see
part of an overhanging veranda and trees in autumn colors—in the
foreground is an oval table—bouquets of flowers—thick carpets—
above the sofa hangs the portrait of a handsome man in a general’s
uniform—morning light!”
(A loud sound, bright lights: JANE is in Robotforest.)
(Note: IBSEN is in control throughout the beginning portion, he
moves in and out of the space—fixing lighting wires, sound mikes,
adjusting furniture.)
JANE. Is this—am I—hallucinating?
(AUNT JULIE-BOT moves forward and speaks to JANE.)
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Good. Morning. Hedda, dear. How. Good. To.
See. You!”
(JANE looks confused. She holds a script.)
JANE. Do you want me to—do you want me to—just—
AUNT JULIE-BOT. Good. Morning. Hedda, dear. How. Good.
JANE. (Uncertainly:) “Good morning, my dear Miss Tessman! Call-
ing so early? This is kind of you. This is kind of you?”
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Well—did. The. Bride sleep. Well. In her.
New. Home?”
(JANE reaches out and touches a flower that lights up at her touch.)
JANE. Am I under the ocean? I dreamt about this once—
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Did. The. Bride sleep. Well. In her. New.
Home.”
JANE. I live in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
(Lights flash and a recorded warning voice comes on: SAY YOUR
LINE, SAY YOUR LINE.)
JANE. Oh. Okay. (Reading:) “Oh yes, thanks. Quite adequately.”
BILLY. “Adequately! Oh. I. Like. That. Hedda. You. Were. Sleeping.
Like. A Stone. When I. Got. Up.”
JANE. A stone—
VOICE. SAY YOUR LINE, SAY YOUR LINE.
JANE. “Of course one has to grow accustomed to anything new,
Miss Tessman—little by little. Oh! That maid has left the door open
and the sunlight’s just flooding in.”
(The back wall of the stage lights up.)
JANE. Oh my god…
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Well, we can close it—”
JANE. “No—no don’t! There dear—draw the curtains. It gives a
softer light.”
(The lights get a little bit softer.)
JANE. Softer? Brighter?
BILLY. “Look. Hedda. Now. You. Have. Shade. And. Fresh. Air.
Both.”
JANE. “Yes, we really need some fresh air here, with all these piles
of flowers— Won’t you sit down, Miss Tessman?”
(AUNT JULIE-BOT goes to one of the chairs and tries to sit down,
but can’t.)
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Oh no, thank you. Now that I have seen that
everything is all right here—thank heaven!—I must be getting
home again. My sister is lying longing for me, poor thing.”
BILLY. “Give her my very best love, Auntie; and say I shall look in
and see her later in the day.”
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Yes, yes, I’ll be sure to tell her. But by-the-bye,
George—I had almost forgotten—I have something for you here.”
BILLY. “Well, I declare!— Have you really saved them for me,
Aunt Julia! Hedda! isn’t this touching—eh? My bedroom slippers!
My slippers.”
(As this is going on, IBSEN is behind the enormous portrait of Gen-
eral Gabler. The eyes light up. JANE looks up to see IBSEN. IBSEN
sees her for the first time. JANE waves at him, he gets nervous that
she is aware of him, and he rushes off stage.)
VOICE. SAY YOUR LINE! SAY YOUR LINE!
(JANE goes back to the scene.)
JANE. “Oh yes. I remember how often you spoke of them on the
trip.”
BILLY. “Auntie Rina embroidered them for me!”
(BERTA-BOT, a broom on wheels, moves across the stage.)
JANE. “We’re never going to manage with this maid, Tessman.”
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Not manage with Berta?”
BILLY. “But. Dear. Why. Do you. Say that? Uh.”
JANE. “See there! She’s left her old hat lying out on a chair!”
BILLY. “Hedda! That’s. Aunt. Julie’s. Hat.”
JANE. (Laughs:) “Really?”
AUNT JULIE-BOT. “Yes, indeed it’s mine. And, what’s more, it’s
not old, Madam Hedda. Not old at all.”
(JANE puts the floppy hat on AUNT JULIE-BOT’s head, with some
strong elastic.)
BILLY. “And a very nice bonnet it is too—quite a beauty!”
AUNT JULIE BOT. “Oh, it’s no such great things, George. My
parasol—? Ah, here.”
BILLY. “But. Have. You. Noticed. How. Plump. And. Buxom.
Hedda. Has. Grown. How. Much. She’s. Filled. Out. On. The Trip?”
 (AUNT JULIE-BOT and BILLY try to converge on JANE to touch
her pregnant belly, JANE swats her away.)
JANE. Can I just skip a little—
BILLY. No. No. No.
AUNT JULIE-BOT. Error! Error!
JANE. I like this part, but I’m just—
BILLY. No, no… She’s skipping ahead, Hans, she’s skipping
ahead—
JANE. “I want a riding horse George!”
BILLY. “A riding horse! Are these things common with young
wives? Good lord!”
(BILLY shakes uncontrollably.)
JANE. “You look like you’ve been struck by lightening. Oh dear
Judge!”
(BRACK ROBOT enters, wearing a Judge wig.)
JANE. “Dear Judge—I really danced myself out! And George Tess-
man is a thoroughly acceptable choice! I don’t find anything espe-
cially ridiculous about him. Do you?”
BILLY. “Look, I’m sweating, Hedda.”
JANE. “You can’t imagine how horribly I’m going to bore myself
here…Berta? Berta? What is it?”
(BERTA BOT rolls up to JANE and speaks to her in lights and
sounds—R2D2 style.)
JANE. “Oh? Well, show him in… Eilert!”
(HANS enters as Eilert.)
BILLY. “Ah. My dear Lovborg. So. At. Last. We. Meet. Again.”
HANS. “Thanks for your letter, George! May I shake hands with
you too, Mrs. Tessman?”
(HANS tries to shake her hand. It’s awkward.)
JANE. “So glad to see you, Mr. Lovborg. I don’t know if you two
gentlemen—”
HANS. “Judge Brack, I believe—”
(BRACK runs into something. IBSEN is more frantic now, trying to
keep things under control.)
JANE. “Do you want to see my photographs, Mr. Lovborg?”
HANS. “Answer me, Hedda—”
JANE. “If you keep saying ‘Hedda’ like that to me, I won’t talk to
you—”
HANS. “Can’t I say Hedda even when we’re alone? Was there no
love with for me, either? Not a spark— Not one glimmer of love at
all! Hedda, the confessions I used to make—the drinking, the mad-
ness that went on day and night—for days at a time. Ah, what
power was it in you, Hedda—”
JANE. Power—
HANS. “That made me tell you such things—”
JANE. “You think it was some kind of power in me?” Some kind of
power…
VOICE. SAY YOUR LINE! SAY YOUR LINE!
JANE. Shut up!
IBSEN. Some kind of power…
JANE. No, there’s an odor of death. It’s like a corsage the day after
the dance.
(JANE throws the script away. The lights onstage are ominous—
something is changing…)
IBSEN. Hedda?
(JANE pushes IBSEN away and continues without a script.)
BILLY. “Oh! Oh! Oh God! Oh God I’m miserable!”
JANE. (To BILLY:) “No, now we will all enjoy ourselves! (To
HANS:) You! You’re going to a drinking party!”
BILLY. “No! No! No!”
JANE. “He’ll come back like that and no other way! At ten-o-
clock—he’ll be here. I can see him now—with vine leaves in his
hair— Vine leaves in his hair—fiery and bold— And then you’ll
see—he’ll be back in control of himself. He’ll be a free man, then, for
the rest of his days. Go on and doubt him as much as you like. I be-
lieve in him. And now we’ll find out!”
BILLY. “LET ME GO! I AM AFRAID OF YOU! I’D LIKE TO HAVE
MY SUPPER AT HOME!”
JANE. “I’ll burn your hair off after all!”
(JANE starts pulling ticker tape from BILLY’s mouth. IBSEN steps
in.)
IBSEN. “There’s no danger, as long as you keep quiet…” Keep
quiet, please keep quiet, keep…
(IBSEN tries to brush JANE’s hair. JANE pushes him off, IBSEN
takes out his hammer. JANE counters with her gun. IBSEN is over-
powered.)
JANE. “I see—the cock of the walk that’s what you want to be…”
IBSEN. “There’s no use brooding, Hedda, we must try to compose
our thoughts—”
JANE. “See, thoughts, they’re not so easy to control!”
(JANE starts moving around the space recklessly, powerfully.
BRACK-BOT runs repeatedly into something in the corner of the
stage, hitting JANE.)
JANE. OW! “You can be a dangerous person, Judge Brack—can’t
you—in a tight corner—”
HANS. “I’ve torn my own life to bits. A thousand pieces. I scattered
them into the fjord.”
BILLY. “You. Killed. A. Little. Child.”
JANE. “Ah, the child—”
BILLY. “I. Don’t. Know. What I’ll. Do. Everything’s. Dark. For. Me.
Now.”
(BILLY makes a noise that sounds like a lap-top shutting down. IB-
SEN starts to overlap some pieces of JANE’s lines.)
JANE. “Eilert Lovbog, listen to me—couldn’t you arrange that—
that it’s done beautifully?”
IBSEN. “Beautifully? With vine leaves in my hair as you used to
dream in the old days?”
JANE. “No, I don’t believe in vine leaves anymore—”
(The helicopter sound comes back [ala Miss Saigon] louder and
louder.)
(IBSEN and JANE look up and realize what’s coming.)
CUBBY’S VOICE. (Over video we see RICK and CUBBY in the helicop-
ter.) Hey, Robots, we’re going to melt you like Bisquick—
(They have to shout to speak, the lines are quick. They speak directly
to each other. THE ROBOTS are moving all over the stage, trying to
escape the helicopter.)
IBSEN. “He was shot in the chest—”
JANE. “In the chest you say… Well—well—the chest is just as
good—I’m saying there’s beauty in all of this—”
IBSEN. “Beauty? How can you say that, Hedda?”
JANE. “Something that shimmers with spontaneous beauty—this
last great act, filled with beauty! That he had the strength and the
will to break away from the banquet of life—This banquet of life—”
IBSEN. “Suppose I were to tell you that Eilert Lovborg was found
shot in Mademoiselle Diana’s boudoir—”
BILLY. The. Copter’s. Dipping. Hans. The copter—
IBSEN. “A discharged bullet in his pocket—”
JANE. “In the chest—yes.”
BILLY. The. Copter. Hans.
IBSEN. “No—in the stomach—more or less.”
JANE. “That too! So I’m in your power, you have your hold over
me—”
IBSEN. “My dearest Hedda, I won’t abuse the position—”
JANE. “All the same, I’m in your power—”
IBSEN. I can save you—
JANE. “Tied to your will and desire—not free!”
(We hear an enormous crash off stage, the sounds get louder. Gun-
shots, RICK and CUBBY’s voices.)
(THE ROBOTS scatter. JANE holds her ground, brandishing the
gun, on fire.)
JANE. “For once in my life—”
(CUBBY enters, holding the head of what used to be a robot. He is
shooting a machine gun and shouting. RICK enters behind, a little
more cautiously. They both look like they just stepped out of
Apocalypse Now.)
CUBBY. Aaaaaahhh… Burn it, baby, Buuuuurn it—
RICK. Jane? JANE! It’s me—
JANE. There was beauty in this…
RICK. Jane, honey, we’re here—we got you.
JANE. “I’d rather die!”
IBSEN. “People say such things, but they don’t do them…”
JANE. “Not free! I cannot bear it! Not free!”
(JANE points the gun wildly—at CUBBY and RICK and IBSEN.)
CUBBY. SHE’S FUCKING LOST IT—
RICK. I’ve never seen her so—
IBSEN. “I need someone—”
JANE. “I want to have power—”
CUBBY. LET’S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!
JANE. “I want to have power over another human being!”
(JANE brings the gun to her head quickly, confidently.)
RICK. Jane? What are you—
(A gunshot. Blackout. Silence.)
BILLY’S VOICE. (From the darkness:) Oh. God. People. Don’t. Do.
Such. Things.
(A tight light on IBSEN who holds the Hedda Doll, now broken, in
his hand.)
IBSEN. (Slowly:) “What is this curse? Why is it that everything I
touch turns ridiculous and vile?” Oh Hedda, Hedda, Hedda.
(In another tight pool of light, JANE stands surrounded in darkness
with blood coming down the side of her head.)
(Lights on IBSEN go down.)
(JANE stands in the light bleeding out of her head, as the set moves
around her…)
 PART THREE
(On screen: ENGINEER has a new suit on, looks uncomfortable.)
ENGINEER. I can’t, I can’t talk long. The, uh, the incidents in Yp-
silanti and subsequently in the Yuta region of the Ecuadorian rain-
forest are under the process of investigation. We still don’t know
how they transported themselves with the woman—
FILM STUDENT. Did you find evidence of a third party?
ENGINEER. No, no, but our investigation was not helped by the
fact that the small patch of the rainforest, or “Robotforest” as they
call it, was firebombed by Jane Gordon’s brother-in-law, Charles
“Cubby” Gordon. We have confirmed reports that he was smug-
gling small arms in Eastern Europe. I mean, these are not good
people.
FILM STUDENT. What about reports that the robots forced Jane
Gordon to perform Hedda Gabler by Henrik Ibsen?
ENGINEER. I really can’t, I can’t continue this—
FILM STUDENT. What about the concern that this could happen
again? Are we approaching the age of Singularity?
ENGINEER. That’s ridiculous—
FILM STUDENT. If there is a connection between the work of Ib-
sen and the robots, isn’t there a concern that this will happen again?
ENGINEER. That’s not—
FILM STUDENT. How can you say that this is an isolated inci-
dent?
ENGINEER. You know what?
FILM STUDENT. How can you say that?
ENGINEER. Get this mike off me—
FILM STUDENT. How can you say that?
(ENGINEER makes a mad dash for the camera and we see that there
is some scuffle—we might hear the FILM STUDENT say: “The Sin-
gularity.” Suddenly static snow.)
(We’re back in the Ypsilanti living room.)
 (NUGGET, wearing a backpack, carrying the poster boards she has
used throughout the course of the play in her presentation on Hedda
Gabler, and still wearing her taped-on mutton-chops, stares up at
JANE—who is no longer pregnant.)
NUGGET. Hi Mom.
JANE. How was school?
NUGGET. Fine.
JANE. My head’s bleeding again.
NUGGET. It’s okay, Mom, I’ll clean it up…
(NUGGET grabs a bucket, while talking.)
NUGGET. I had a good day at school today. We’re doing reports
on stuff. I did Theater History. And then I handed out blow-pops so
everyone liked it.
(NUGGET puts a bottle of Pledge in the bucket.)
NUGGET. I think we’re going to go on a field trip to the nuclear
power plant on Friday. Everyone gets to wear helmets so we don’t
get contaminated. You can go too, because other moms are going. It
probably won’t be as fun as Robotforest, but it’ll be okay. Can you
move your foot?
(NUGGET bends down and starts to clean up the blood.)
NUGGET. What if you started some kind of exercise program?
Maybe you could do some laps around the house? I don’t think I
have enough Pledge—
JANE. “Oh, I’ll die—I’ll die of all this!”
NUGGET. Mom. Don’t.
JANE. “Of all these—absurdities—George!”
NUGGET. Mom.
JANE. (Whispered:) Please. Please, just one more time.
(NUGGET gets the script of Hedda Gabler out of a hiding place in
the kitchen.)
NUGGET. (In a flat voice:) “Absurdities? What’s Absurd about me
being so happy?”
“Well, all right. I guess there’s no point in me saying anything to
Berta.”
JANE. What’s so absurd about me being so happy…
NUGGET. Mom. Can’t you just… Mom…
JANE. What’s so absurd…
NUGGET. It’s my fault. I just wanted you back.
(They look at each other. RICK enters. NUGGET hides the script
and goes back to cleaning the blood off the floor.)
RICK. Hi. Hi honey.
NUGGET. You gotta sign my permission slip for the field trip.
RICK. Sure, sure. When you clean the blood up, maybe we can go
see a movie.
NUGGET. There are some good ones out. I’ll go get the paper.
(NUGGET exits. RICK stares at JANE.)
RICK. Hi beautiful. How’s the head-wound?
(She doesn’t respond.)
Cubby wanted to know if you could wear this for the interview to-
morrow.
(RICK holds up a “Live Strong” Bracelet.)
I can just put it here. I brought you a roast beef sandwich.
JANE. Did Cubby make it?
RICK. He’s been such a big help—we owe him a lot—
(JANE pushes the sandwich off the table.)
No. You’re going to eat food. You’re not going to hurt yourself. Not
on my watch, okay? Not on my watch.
(A moment.)
All we got to do is sell that footage to some networks, I wouldn’t
have to go back to Staples and I could just spend all day long taking
care of you. We could get some network interest, get some advertis-
ers, this is a marketplace of information… It’s a marketplace…
(CUBBY enters.)
CUBBY. Uggggh.
RICK. Go away Cubby.
CUBBY. Pathetic.
RICK. Get out of here.
(CUBBY looks at RICK for a moment, then leaves.)
(A moment.)
RICK. I know I’m not the most exciting man. We don’t have glow
in the dark stuff. I don’t lick stamps. But when I close my eyes,
you’re what I see. But you just give me the word, and I’ll take you
back there. I mean, I’ll sell the car and buy you a ticket to the Ama-
zon. What do you want? You’re everything for me.
(She doesn’t respond.)
But you could also stay. I’d like you to stay.
(She doesn’t respond.)
Just so I don’t have to talk to Nugget so much.
JANE. In the forest, the flowers would just light up when you—
RICK. You told me.
JANE. I kept seeing your face.
RICK. You think I light up? No way. I’m a dead bulb.
JANE. I kept seeing your face.
(A moment.)
RICK. How’d I look?
(NUGGET enters with the paper.)
NUGGET. What about this one? “Brilliant.” “Majestic.” “Laura
Linney lights up the screen.”
RICK. Oh, Laura Linney, she’s good. You ready to go?
NUGGET. Yeah! I’ll just go empty the blood out of the bucket. Are
you coming, Mom?
(JANE looks at them. She smiles.)
RICK. You like Laura Linney, right?
NUGGET. She’s the best.
JANE. I love Laura Linney.
(They look at each other, it’s peaceful.)
RICK. 5 minutes. I’ll get the car—
(RICK exits. JANE lingers.)
(NUGGET steps forward and finishes her report.)
NUGGET. The summer of 1890 was a wretched summer. It was
wretched. So why was the great theater masterpiece Hedda Gabler
written? No one really knows.
(As NUGGET talks, we see MRS. IBSEN eating dinner, reading the
paper as in the first scene.)
NUGGET. But, after he wrote it, everyone hated it. They said,
quote: “We neither understand nor believe in Hedda Gabler. She is
not related to anyone we know.” And then later the people who
wrote papers said: quote, “Hedda is a ‘study in a vacuum,’” which
is stupid, because it’s not, it’s in a living room. Wow. These people
are really angry.
(IBSEN enters, wearing red long johns that say “Freak” in big white
letters. Big brass buttons. MRS. IBSEN looks up, takes it in, goes
back to eating.)
NUGGET. I was angry when my mom tried to kill herself and then
she was abducted by robots and forced to perform Hedda Gabler.
But then my mom came back. And every day I think maybe one day
she’s going to kill herself again but sometimes we perform scenes
from this play, and it’s okay. So you can’t just say that the play is
cold and impersonal, because how do you know? Maybe the day
you saw it was just a bad day. Maybe you’re a stupid person. I
don’t know why Ibsen wrote Hedda Gabler. But maybe that’s the
point. Hedda doesn’t want to be understood; she doesn’t want us to
say, “Oh, that play was so well-made.” It’s like it got out of control.
It’s like Ibsen just let it break itself. Why did he build something just
so it could destroy itself from the inside?
(A slight pause.)
If you’re a robot and you figure out you’re a robot—are you still a
robot? Who do you become?
(A slight pause.)
I don’t know. Also I brought blow-pops.
MRS. IBSEN. Hm. This is interesting Ibsen. They say “Hedda Ga-
bler” is a monster. Shall I snip it out and paste it?
IBSEN. Suzannah.
MRS. IBSEN. Shall I paste it?
IBSEN. Suzannah.
(A moment. Maybe they reach over and touch each other.)
MRS. IBSEN. Henrik.
(A moment.)
Shall I snip it out and paste it?
IBSEN. Yes. What a nice idea.
(IBSEN smiles and continues with his dinner.)
NUGGET. Mom?
(A slight pause. JANE takes NUGGET into her arms, kisses her on
the forehead. NUGGET stares up at her, smiling.)
JANE. Come on, let’s go see a movie…
(NUGGET and JANE exit together.)
(On the screen, we see a montage of an emotional Laura Linney cry-
ing in “You Can Count On Me,” “Kinsey,” “Mystic River,” and
“Love Actually,” as IBSEN eats and MRS. IBSEN slowly cuts out
the article from the paper.)
End of Play…I think