Chris: Ah. Mail’s here.
Chris: Wow! Something from Beth! What could it be? It’s an odd-shaped package. So thin.
Thistle: It’s mine.
(Chris opens package)
Thistle: What did she send me?
Chris: She didn’t send you anything. She sent me a leaf.
Thistle: She sent YOU a leaf? Yeah, right. Give it to me.
Thistle: Give it to me NOW.
Chris: It’s a sumac leaf. It’s not good for you.
Thistle: I want it.
(Thistle sniffs the leaf.)
Chris: I told you.
Thistle: That’s a bad leaf.
Chris: It’s related to poison oak, and it’s probably
Thistle: I hate that leaf.
Chris: Ah, there’s something else in here, in some manila paper.
(Chris pulls the manila paper out of the package. A red oak leaf falls out of the paper, fluttering to the carpet.)
(Thistle leaps on oak leaf, begins eating it.)
(Chris reaches down, takes leaf away from Thistle.)
Chris: Aw, it’s a red oak! I haven’t seen one of these in
Thistle: Give that back now.
Chris: It’s not even for you, and I just want to look
Thistle: It’s mine. I’m not finished eating it.
Chris: Simmer down, bun-bun.
Thistle: GIVE. IT. BACK. NOW.
Chris: Ha. Poor bun-bun.
Thistle: No, seriously, listen. GIVE ME BACK MY LEAF.
Chris: Stop it.
Thistle: Give it back or I’ll fucking cut you, man.
Chris: No you won’t.
Thistle: I have a knife.
Chris: You do not.
Thistle: I have a knife, and I’ll stab you in the eye if you don’t give me back my goddamn leaf.
Chris: You don’t have a knife.
Thistle: I meant to say gun. I have a gun. It looks like a knife.
Chris: Yeah, right. Go eat some kibble.
Thistle: Look. I asked nicely. Now give me my fucking leaf.
(Thistle pulls out knifegun)
Chris: Hey! Put that away!
(Thistle aims knifegun at Chris’ eye)
Thistle: The leaf. If you don’t mind.
Chris: Um, OK. Here.
(Chris hands Thistle the oak leaf.)
Thistle: About fucking time, man.
(Thistle eats the leaf.)
Chris: You’re really pushing your luck, bunny rabbit. You forget that I can
Thistle: Shut up and give me the other leaf.
Chris: You don’t want it.
(Thistle pulls out the knifegun again.)
(Chris offers Thistle the sumac leaf.)
Thistle: Ew! That’s disgusting! What are you trying to do to me?
Thistle: Give me the manila paper. I want it.
(Chris hands the manila paper to Thistle.)
Thistle: I HATE this paper!
(Thistle tears the manila paper to shreds, angrily, and with loud growling noises.)
(This play is a faithful portrayal of actual events. All dialogue is verbatim and everything here actually happened exactly this way, and only a couple things were embellished very slightly.)