The setting is a small bedroom. White walls and white doors and white curtains. Everything is white. Everything is plain. TERRI hates it. She is sitting on a bed with her arms crossed. Her mom copies the stance in the doorway. TERRI pointedly glares away from MOM.
TERRI: Oh, shut up! You don't get it!
MOM: But isn't your room nice the way it is? All white, its very chic.
TERRI: So? I don't WANT chic, I would like red walls and doors. Is that SO much to ask?!
MOM(annoyed): I don't get your stupid infatuation with red. White is much nicer. Much more sophisticated.
TERRI(in a high mocking voice): Sophisticated! Chic! Stupid! Sheesh, whats with YOUR stupid infatuation with white?
MOM: Well, its nice.
TERRI(muttering): Who ever said I was nice?
MOM: I certainly didn't.
TERRI(finally glaring at MOM): I wasn't asking you!!
MOM: Since you obviously can't shut up about it, you should stay in your room for, hmmm, the weekend. You might feel a new apprieciation for it.
TERRI(throws her hands out): But what about the band?
MOM: The band can wait.
With that, MOM walks out of the room, leaving TERRI to fall back onto her bed with a loud sigh. Suddenly, TERRI yells after MOM:
TERRI: YOU JUST DON'T CARE!!
MOM(offstage): ARG! SHUT UP!
Manage Your Items