Veritaserum: Act 1: Scene 1

"Veritaserum": A series of short stories based on the psychological archetypes of man.

This scene is the first of the skits that i had drawn up. It involves mostly just the characters of Sal(the character archetype of the "self" in question), The detective, and the Outlaw. With minor parts played by the dramatist, and the assistant.

Basically this scene analyses the contradiction in trying to get to know another person, romantically, when a person may not even be so sure who *they are, as a person. How sometimes it seems like it is a stranger, who want to get to know another stranger. How can one person hold a relationship with another, if they dont know who *they are, to begin with.

Thats the idea of this Skit.

And it was the first one that i had had written out.

Hope You like it ;}

Act 1: Stranger to Yourself

Scene 1:

[Character is sitting in chair in a dark room with a small rectangular table. The chair, a wooden chair, is bearable to sit in but still altogether pretty uncomfortable. The character is not sure if there's a floor. But he is sitting here waiting quietly, placidly waiting for interrogation. The room is very very dark, and perfectly silent, with no light except for a small naked lightbulb overhead hanging by bare wiring, The only source of illumination, shining down strongly small circumference, maybe only 3 meters in diameter. Beyond that was like walking into a solid wall of shadow, impossible to see through or penetrate. It was through this wall of shadow that the detective suddenly appeared out of, with eyes that were as dense as the shadows he appeared from, and crinkles in his brow expressing a troubled air. 

Detective: What Did you think of yourself when you looked in the mirror, on December the 2nd of 1945?[Sternly, with the cut of Pre-confirmed suspicion in his voice.] 

Sal: What do you mean what did i see? 

[The assistant appears out of the dark background carrying with him a clipboard with it attached some papers and comes to sit in a chair that appears out of thin air on the edge of the circumference of light. He sets his clipboard down in his lap, and begins to take notes on the topic at hand.]

Detective: I meean..When you looked in the mirror, what did you see... 

Sal: I saw me? 

Detective: Exactly![slapping his hand on the table making a sharp thud] and 'who' were 'you'? 

[Eyebrow cocked, waiting patiently for the preeminent question]

Sal: ahh.. I don’t know..Me?

Detective: That doesn’t answer the question! Who is it, that is “me”?

Sal: If that doesn’t answer the question, then I’m not sure i understand the question. What more of an answer could i give?

Detective: I asked you who it is you saw in the mirror

Sal: Right,.. and I said me.

Detective: Right. But now I’m asking you. Who are you? And more specifically, Who is this “you” that you saw in the mirror on December 2nd in the year of 1981

[The Dramatist enters the room from the same side the assistant and the detective appeared out of. He comes around to stand just behind the detective, staring at Sal in a curious manner. Sal shifts uncomfortably in his uncomfortable seat underneath the gaze..and in doing so, bumps into the The Outlaw, who had appeared suddenly besides him leaning up against the chair and chewing some sort of wrapper of some sort]

Sal: Who was me? I don’t know. You asked me to tell you who it is i saw in the mirror and i told you me. But i don’t have any other description to give you other than that.

The Dramatist: Beyond the superficial answer of who you are on the outside sire. Beyond your biological skin, and hair, beyond that peculiar looking face of yours, those eyes and those funny eyebrows. Who was it that stared back at himself in the mirror on the said date given by this gentleman. The real person that stared back. The character of qualities and personality. Values and beliefs. Attitudes and motifs. What was the image of that Soul that stared into the mirror on said date? Not the physical superficiality.

Sal: Oh... Well. In that case, i don’t know. I’m not sure if i would be able to tell you.

Outlaw: pfft! And he says he saw himself! He didn’t even know who he was. How could he be looking at himself? 

Dramatist: There could be no way, thats what i would wager on. He looked into his reflection a blank space in posed position to a question. He was naught but a blank space.

Outlaw: 'nd now we are asking him a simple question, 'nd he cant even come up with one good answer? Hot 'Fire! This kid is a piece of work if you ask me. Or he ain't one...

Dramatist: He looks foward but he would not see, and because he would not see, when he would search he would never find.. 

[The Detective cleared his throat, and pulled his chair in closer to the table readjusting himself and his position. He took a deep breath, and looked placidly around the room, bringing his eyes to a halt when he reached Sals figure]

Detective: Alright,.. Let me ask you another question.

Sal: ok..

Detective: Around this time, when you would look into the mirror of your bathroom wall. Look back at this person reflected in it. Near the date of December 2, 1981, Were you not actively engaged in search for a romantic relation with somebody?

Sal: I don’t see what that has to do with anything...

Outlaw: Ov course he don't..

Detective: Were you or were you not entertaining the thought of romance.

[Again shifting uncomfortable in his chair, bothered by the nature of the question being asked]

Sal: Well... yes. I may have been apart of a couple of dating websites back then.

[He says, looking around at each one of those individuals in the room. The dramatist was still fluttering around near the back of the room. The assistant still writing diligently on his clipboard.

The Outlaw who hadn’t moved from directly besides Sal, was staring at the side of Sals face with such intensity, that Sal almost immediately gave up looking to his left side at all.]

Detective: And yet, even in not knowing who you were. That person that stared back at you while in this mirror of yours, was you. And as this person of ambiguous definition, you still obliged yourself to seek partnership with someone else. You were still looking for romance, love, a Juliet to your Romeo Reflection....

[The Assistant could be seen writing diligently on the edge of the circumference of provided light. The refined features of his coat and dress uniformly matching the those of his face and body movements. Quick and clean, trimmed and clear. His fancy pen danced across the clipboard he held in his lap, as the detective continued.]

Detective: Supposing you did not know who you were, how would you justify going to meet somebody else? Fantasies of relationships, daydreams, fancies with other people, when you yourself are an obscurity 

Dramatist: A blurry mirage in the gold crested mirror that you were loaned to you on broke money by the worlds bank. A blurry image dimly lite by bulbs that could only burn so bright. More than partially handicapped was your own picture in your sight, surly. And yet you searched..

Sal: Handicapped sight? I don’t know what your talking about, i have perfect vision. I’ve never worn a pair of glasses in my life.

[Sal looked back at the detective, who was eyeballing him with a special sort of intensity that made Sal feel more than alittle bit uncomfortable]

As for all that. Ah.. I don’t know. . . .I thought it might be fun. I thought it might be romantic. 

Outlaw: Awssh what?? You didn’t know who you were! How could nobody meet anybody?

You cant meet somebody and not be there to meet them! Dosn’t make any sense Sal

It might be Fun? Romantic?.. Romance dosn’t fly with strangers, and usually neither does fun..

[The outlaw tapped his foot on the ground staring at Sal with a corkscrew contorted face, irritation is his eyes. He stood there for a moment and then stalked back into the darkness he had spawned out of calling back hauntingly as he went.] 

Outlaw: don’t ever let me get to the heart of you, Sal, i would tear you up.

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