Father And Son
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Here is the full text of my 10-minute play, Father and Son. It also appears in my anthology The Twisted Mind of Daniel Guyton
(Poetry and Plays in the Dark Comedy Vein)..If you are interested in producing this piece, please contact me for the
performance rights. All producers are required to include the author's name on any programs or advertising in which the title
of the play appears. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the show!! :O) -Daniel Guyton
Father and Son
A 10-Minute Play by Daniel Guyton ©2000
Author holds all copyrights. For performance or production information, please contact author at:
click here to email or www.danguyton.com.
-----------------------
FATHER and SON
Characters:
FATHER.
SON
VARIOUS VOICES
(A dark and gloomy living room. The small, weak figure of the FATHER sits alone in a large, overbearing
armchair. There is an Ottoman, an end table, and a large Great Depression-era radio looming over him. He
stares off into the distance as various prayers are heard through the radio. Unless otherwise noted, all of
the VOICES are heard through the radio.)
VOICE A: Dear God, my mother’s dying and in a great amount of pain. She needs your help!
VOICE B: My brother has AIDs. He’s sick and I don’t know what to do!
VOICE C: Dear God, I’ve just been raped! I haven’t told anyone yet and I’m scared…
FATHER: (In a thick Yiddish accent) Oy vey. Bitch, bitch, bitch. That’s all anyvun efuh does anymore is
bitch. “Oh help me, I’m in trouble. Oh help me, I’ve been raped.” I vish you’d all just die.
(He switches the radio off. The SON enters. He is wearing sandals, a white Nazarean robe, and a beard.
Light illuminates off of him. He is humble, yet confident. Strong, yet meek. Timid, yet bold. He turns the radio
back on)
SON: Father, you mustn’t turn that off! Your children are asking for you. They need your help.
VOICE D: God, I’ve just murdered my wife, it was an accident, I…
FATHER: Help them? Vhy should I help them? (He turns off the radio.) I gave dem life, vat more do dey
need?
(FATHER coughs. SON turns the radio back on.)
SON: They need your guidance and support!
VOICE E: Please give me an answer! Something…
FATHER: Guidance and support, my ass! Vat dey need is some of dat old fire and brimstone I had back in
de good old days! Dat’s vat dey need!
SON: I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.
VOICE F: Dear God, I can’t go on anymore. I just want to die…
FATHER: Dey’re a bunch of ungrateful bastuds! Everythink I ever give dem, tey throw it avay! I give dem
life, and vat do dey do? Dey throw it avay! I give dem paradise and vat do dey do? Tey throw it avay! I give
dem de gift of compassion and vat do dey do? Dey throw it avay!
SON: Not all of them, Father.
VOICE G: Dear God, I just raped a nun. I hope you don’t mind…
FATHER: See vat I mean? Tey deserve to die! People haf destroyed my uniferse! My beautiful creation! Vat
do tey need me for?
VOICE H: Dear God, my children are starving. I can’t afford bread…
SON: To help them. To ease their pain. To answer their prayers.
FATHER: Fine. You vant me to ansuh deir prayers, I’ll answer deir prayers. I’ll answer de next prayer dat
comes over that radio.
VOICE I: Dear God, I want a sports car!
(FATHER smiles and snaps his fingers.)
FATHER: (To SON) Deir you go.
VOICE I: Wow! Thanks, god!
SON: That’s not fair! You knew that was coming!
FATHER: Of course. I’m God. I told you, people are selfish. All dey vant is material things and money.
VOICE J: Dear God, I’ve been exiled from my homeland. I don’t know where to go…
SON: Yes. And escape from oppression. And disease. And famine. People need more than worldly goods,
Father! People need salvation, not a sports car, and you know it!
FATHER: All right, fine. (He snaps his fingers. There is a loud crash, and VOICE I shrieks in agony.) Dere
you go. No more sports car.
VOICE I: I can’t feel my legs!!!
(SON snaps his fingers.)
VOICE I: Oh, there they are. Thanks God!
FATHER: Psst, it vasn’t me… (To SON) Dey alveys gif me credit for thinks dat you haf done. (He looks at
his son.) You’re such a good boy. Ah, meshuggenah. (He grabs SON’s face and kisses him.) See, you. You
ver perfect. Nefer sinned. Nefer notingk. You just did vat ya had to do. You vent deir, you saved deir souls,
and vat did dose bastards do? Dey threw you avay.
SON: But, you knew that was gonna happen, Father! That’s why you sent me there, to save them!
FATHER: And for vat? So dey could use your name ta kill? So dey could use your name to… make money?
So dey could use your name to molest little children? Dey have sinned more under your name dan efer
before!
SON: But, Cain and Abel? Sodom and Gomorrha? They’ve been sinning forever.
FATHER: Yes, but then they used your name to do it. That is de vorst sin of all.
VOICE K: Jesus fucking Christ! I just stubbed my toe!
FATHER: See vat I mean?
SON: I forgive him.
FATHER: You have to. Dat’s your job. My son, I created you for dat purpose. Don’t you see? I couldn’t
control them anymore. They vere becomink too smart. I tought… maybe if I created you, a perfect being,
you could help me. You could help me overlook deir faults. You could help me to forgif dem. You could…
help me.
SON: I can. I’m trying.
FATHER: But, deir beyond help! I cannot forgif dem anymore! Dey are beyond salfation. Dey control deir
own destinies now.
SON: Free will?
FATHER: Yes. Free vill. De stupidest ding I efer created.
VOICE L: Dear God, I don’t believe in you anymore! (To someone else.) You’re right, that did feel good to
say! Woo-hoo!
FATHER: See? Dey are on deir own. They are self-sufficient. They haf created eferyting dey ever need.
Medicine. Dey haf nuclear missiles. Dey haf Jack Kevorkian. Vat do dey need me for? Human beings are
deir own gods now. Dey haf taken ofer my job. Dey haf control ofer life and death. I don’t haf control
anymore. I gave dem opportunities to stick to de natural order of things, and vat do dey do? Tey throw it
avay. Dey find cures for my diseases. Dey find shields for my veapons. Dey haf created new veapons! Efer
since dey ate of de tree of knowledge in my garden, dey haf had power dat only I haf had before. Dey haf
stolen my power. It’s out of my hands.
SON: Well, you created the tree! Without it, free will wouldn’t be an issue!
FATHER: I vus… lonely. I thought… mebbe if Adam had eaten the fruit, I’d haf somevun to talk to. Before
dat, he vus dumb as an ox. I vonce tried to explain the concept of light to him, and he just giggled and
played vith himself. I tried to talk to him about love and he tried to hump a sheep. I created his body in my
image, but his brains? Oh no, dey were in the image of sometingk else. I realized, I had created an imbecile.
Man, my most favorite creation of all, was retarded. So, I created the tree of knowledge. But, I warned him –
if you eat of the tree, you will be unhappy. Because dat’s vat I vus. Unhappy. Ignorance is bliss, but
knowledge is pain.
SON: And man, being ignorant, ate of the Tree of knowledge.
FATHER: Right. See, dat is de paradox I gave dem. If only dey had known the pain dat eating de fruit vould
cause, dey vould not haf eaten it. Only… dey could not haf known anythingk. Until they ate the fruit.
Because... dey vere stupid.
SON: So, you tricked them.
FATHER: I vanted him to eat it.
SON: And suffer?
FATHER: And talk to me!
SON: Father!
FATHER: I vus lonely!
SON: You were selfish.
FATHER: So sue me. I know. I just thought… Man vould be more interestink dis vay.
SON: And?
FATHER: And he is! He’s just… too interestink. Now I don’t know vat to do vit him.
SON: So, you cast him aside? Like he never existed?
FATHER: I just vanted someone to talk to. But… He doesn’t vant to talk to me anymore…
VOICE M: Damn you, God! She was too young!
FATHER: Vell, except ven dey vant to curse me. I don’t understand this. Vhy is it dat dey blame me for
Death, but dey do not blame me for Life? Both are part of de same natural order! Both are crucial. Vithout
Death, deir can be no life. Vithout Life, deir can be no Death! One man dies so another can live. It’s the
natural order. A mother dies so a child can live. But, not today, no. No, today, a child dies so a mother can
live. Abortion, children in dumpsters. The vorld is a selfish place. No vun vants to support each other
anymore. No vun vants to… Life is not about breathing. It’s about living. Man does not understand this. He
sees living as a tangible thingk dat dey can own. Dey believe they can own breath. Dey can not! They vant
to be immortal. Ven I created humans, dey died after forty years. Forty years is a good length of time. It cut
back on overpopulation, famine, wars. People vere happy. Sure, dey died young, but dey lived full lives.
Today, people live until seventy, eighty years old, and vat do dey do? Dey spend twenty years of it living in
a school building! Tryingk to get more knowledge! Another forty of it living in some cubicle in an office
somevere. De rest of de time, dey vatch TV. Dey haf more breath, but less Life. Dey haf controlled de
wrong thing. Dey haf weak bodies, but their minds are too strong to realize it.
VOICE N: Dear God, I’m about to executed. Please, please, please, help me get out of this! I don’t want to
die!
SON: Father?
FATHER: I cannot control life or death anymore. It’s in the hands of justice now.
VOICE N: Dear God, please help me! Oh god, no! Noooo! Aaaarrggh!!
(FATHER closes his eyes, wearily.)
FATHER: I cannot help dem anymore. Dey are beyond my assistance.
VOICE O: (A small child.) Dear God, I have Spinal… Spinal Menin… jitis. It hurts a lot. My mommy keeps
crying because she thinks I might die. I’m really scared. But, I don’t want my mommy to cry. Can you
please… be with her?
(FATHER looks at the radio. Pause.)
SON: Father?
FATHER
I… I can’t.
SON: She’s a child. An innocent child.
(FATHER puts his fingers together, as if to snap them. He pauses, then drops his hands to the side.)
FATHER: I… I can’t.
(Lights out. End of scene.)
(Poetry and Plays in the Dark Comedy Vein)..If you are interested in producing this piece, please contact me for the
performance rights. All producers are required to include the author's name on any programs or advertising in which the title
of the play appears. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the show!! :O) -Daniel Guyton
Father and Son
A 10-Minute Play by Daniel Guyton ©2000
Author holds all copyrights. For performance or production information, please contact author at:
click here to email or www.danguyton.com.
-----------------------
FATHER and SON
Characters:
FATHER.
SON
VARIOUS VOICES
(A dark and gloomy living room. The small, weak figure of the FATHER sits alone in a large, overbearing
armchair. There is an Ottoman, an end table, and a large Great Depression-era radio looming over him. He
stares off into the distance as various prayers are heard through the radio. Unless otherwise noted, all of
the VOICES are heard through the radio.)
VOICE A: Dear God, my mother’s dying and in a great amount of pain. She needs your help!
VOICE B: My brother has AIDs. He’s sick and I don’t know what to do!
VOICE C: Dear God, I’ve just been raped! I haven’t told anyone yet and I’m scared…
FATHER: (In a thick Yiddish accent) Oy vey. Bitch, bitch, bitch. That’s all anyvun efuh does anymore is
bitch. “Oh help me, I’m in trouble. Oh help me, I’ve been raped.” I vish you’d all just die.
(He switches the radio off. The SON enters. He is wearing sandals, a white Nazarean robe, and a beard.
Light illuminates off of him. He is humble, yet confident. Strong, yet meek. Timid, yet bold. He turns the radio
back on)
SON: Father, you mustn’t turn that off! Your children are asking for you. They need your help.
VOICE D: God, I’ve just murdered my wife, it was an accident, I…
FATHER: Help them? Vhy should I help them? (He turns off the radio.) I gave dem life, vat more do dey
need?
(FATHER coughs. SON turns the radio back on.)
SON: They need your guidance and support!
VOICE E: Please give me an answer! Something…
FATHER: Guidance and support, my ass! Vat dey need is some of dat old fire and brimstone I had back in
de good old days! Dat’s vat dey need!
SON: I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.
VOICE F: Dear God, I can’t go on anymore. I just want to die…
FATHER: Dey’re a bunch of ungrateful bastuds! Everythink I ever give dem, tey throw it avay! I give dem
life, and vat do dey do? Dey throw it avay! I give dem paradise and vat do dey do? Tey throw it avay! I give
dem de gift of compassion and vat do dey do? Dey throw it avay!
SON: Not all of them, Father.
VOICE G: Dear God, I just raped a nun. I hope you don’t mind…
FATHER: See vat I mean? Tey deserve to die! People haf destroyed my uniferse! My beautiful creation! Vat
do tey need me for?
VOICE H: Dear God, my children are starving. I can’t afford bread…
SON: To help them. To ease their pain. To answer their prayers.
FATHER: Fine. You vant me to ansuh deir prayers, I’ll answer deir prayers. I’ll answer de next prayer dat
comes over that radio.
VOICE I: Dear God, I want a sports car!
(FATHER smiles and snaps his fingers.)
FATHER: (To SON) Deir you go.
VOICE I: Wow! Thanks, god!
SON: That’s not fair! You knew that was coming!
FATHER: Of course. I’m God. I told you, people are selfish. All dey vant is material things and money.
VOICE J: Dear God, I’ve been exiled from my homeland. I don’t know where to go…
SON: Yes. And escape from oppression. And disease. And famine. People need more than worldly goods,
Father! People need salvation, not a sports car, and you know it!
FATHER: All right, fine. (He snaps his fingers. There is a loud crash, and VOICE I shrieks in agony.) Dere
you go. No more sports car.
VOICE I: I can’t feel my legs!!!
(SON snaps his fingers.)
VOICE I: Oh, there they are. Thanks God!
FATHER: Psst, it vasn’t me… (To SON) Dey alveys gif me credit for thinks dat you haf done. (He looks at
his son.) You’re such a good boy. Ah, meshuggenah. (He grabs SON’s face and kisses him.) See, you. You
ver perfect. Nefer sinned. Nefer notingk. You just did vat ya had to do. You vent deir, you saved deir souls,
and vat did dose bastards do? Dey threw you avay.
SON: But, you knew that was gonna happen, Father! That’s why you sent me there, to save them!
FATHER: And for vat? So dey could use your name ta kill? So dey could use your name to… make money?
So dey could use your name to molest little children? Dey have sinned more under your name dan efer
before!
SON: But, Cain and Abel? Sodom and Gomorrha? They’ve been sinning forever.
FATHER: Yes, but then they used your name to do it. That is de vorst sin of all.
VOICE K: Jesus fucking Christ! I just stubbed my toe!
FATHER: See vat I mean?
SON: I forgive him.
FATHER: You have to. Dat’s your job. My son, I created you for dat purpose. Don’t you see? I couldn’t
control them anymore. They vere becomink too smart. I tought… maybe if I created you, a perfect being,
you could help me. You could help me overlook deir faults. You could help me to forgif dem. You could…
help me.
SON: I can. I’m trying.
FATHER: But, deir beyond help! I cannot forgif dem anymore! Dey are beyond salfation. Dey control deir
own destinies now.
SON: Free will?
FATHER: Yes. Free vill. De stupidest ding I efer created.
VOICE L: Dear God, I don’t believe in you anymore! (To someone else.) You’re right, that did feel good to
say! Woo-hoo!
FATHER: See? Dey are on deir own. They are self-sufficient. They haf created eferyting dey ever need.
Medicine. Dey haf nuclear missiles. Dey haf Jack Kevorkian. Vat do dey need me for? Human beings are
deir own gods now. Dey haf taken ofer my job. Dey haf control ofer life and death. I don’t haf control
anymore. I gave dem opportunities to stick to de natural order of things, and vat do dey do? Tey throw it
avay. Dey find cures for my diseases. Dey find shields for my veapons. Dey haf created new veapons! Efer
since dey ate of de tree of knowledge in my garden, dey haf had power dat only I haf had before. Dey haf
stolen my power. It’s out of my hands.
SON: Well, you created the tree! Without it, free will wouldn’t be an issue!
FATHER: I vus… lonely. I thought… mebbe if Adam had eaten the fruit, I’d haf somevun to talk to. Before
dat, he vus dumb as an ox. I vonce tried to explain the concept of light to him, and he just giggled and
played vith himself. I tried to talk to him about love and he tried to hump a sheep. I created his body in my
image, but his brains? Oh no, dey were in the image of sometingk else. I realized, I had created an imbecile.
Man, my most favorite creation of all, was retarded. So, I created the tree of knowledge. But, I warned him –
if you eat of the tree, you will be unhappy. Because dat’s vat I vus. Unhappy. Ignorance is bliss, but
knowledge is pain.
SON: And man, being ignorant, ate of the Tree of knowledge.
FATHER: Right. See, dat is de paradox I gave dem. If only dey had known the pain dat eating de fruit vould
cause, dey vould not haf eaten it. Only… dey could not haf known anythingk. Until they ate the fruit.
Because... dey vere stupid.
SON: So, you tricked them.
FATHER: I vanted him to eat it.
SON: And suffer?
FATHER: And talk to me!
SON: Father!
FATHER: I vus lonely!
SON: You were selfish.
FATHER: So sue me. I know. I just thought… Man vould be more interestink dis vay.
SON: And?
FATHER: And he is! He’s just… too interestink. Now I don’t know vat to do vit him.
SON: So, you cast him aside? Like he never existed?
FATHER: I just vanted someone to talk to. But… He doesn’t vant to talk to me anymore…
VOICE M: Damn you, God! She was too young!
FATHER: Vell, except ven dey vant to curse me. I don’t understand this. Vhy is it dat dey blame me for
Death, but dey do not blame me for Life? Both are part of de same natural order! Both are crucial. Vithout
Death, deir can be no life. Vithout Life, deir can be no Death! One man dies so another can live. It’s the
natural order. A mother dies so a child can live. But, not today, no. No, today, a child dies so a mother can
live. Abortion, children in dumpsters. The vorld is a selfish place. No vun vants to support each other
anymore. No vun vants to… Life is not about breathing. It’s about living. Man does not understand this. He
sees living as a tangible thingk dat dey can own. Dey believe they can own breath. Dey can not! They vant
to be immortal. Ven I created humans, dey died after forty years. Forty years is a good length of time. It cut
back on overpopulation, famine, wars. People vere happy. Sure, dey died young, but dey lived full lives.
Today, people live until seventy, eighty years old, and vat do dey do? Dey spend twenty years of it living in
a school building! Tryingk to get more knowledge! Another forty of it living in some cubicle in an office
somevere. De rest of de time, dey vatch TV. Dey haf more breath, but less Life. Dey haf controlled de
wrong thing. Dey haf weak bodies, but their minds are too strong to realize it.
VOICE N: Dear God, I’m about to executed. Please, please, please, help me get out of this! I don’t want to
die!
SON: Father?
FATHER: I cannot control life or death anymore. It’s in the hands of justice now.
VOICE N: Dear God, please help me! Oh god, no! Noooo! Aaaarrggh!!
(FATHER closes his eyes, wearily.)
FATHER: I cannot help dem anymore. Dey are beyond my assistance.
VOICE O: (A small child.) Dear God, I have Spinal… Spinal Menin… jitis. It hurts a lot. My mommy keeps
crying because she thinks I might die. I’m really scared. But, I don’t want my mommy to cry. Can you
please… be with her?
(FATHER looks at the radio. Pause.)
SON: Father?
FATHER
I… I can’t.
SON: She’s a child. An innocent child.
(FATHER puts his fingers together, as if to snap them. He pauses, then drops his hands to the side.)
FATHER: I… I can’t.
(Lights out. End of scene.)