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Here is my short one-man play (or monologue) called Romance is Dead. 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. If
you wish to use this, or portions of this for an audition, please give the author proper credit.
Thanks, and I hope you enjoy the show!! :O) -Daniel Guyton

Romance is Dead
A One-Man Play by Daniel Guyton ©2004

Author holds all copyrights. For performance or production information, please contact author at:
dan@danguyton.com or www.danguyton.com.

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ROMANCE IS DEAD

(DR. EDWARD BAINSBRIDGE sits, haggard, in a plain brown suit, handcuffed, in a jail cell with a
reporter. He hasn't shaved in days)

BAINSBRIDGE
(Offended by a question)
Sex with dead people? You know, you… put it like that, it sounds awful. But, it’s really not that bad.
Of course, you… have to lubricate. But I think the biggest problem is the families. The families of the
so-called dead. You’d think they’d let their loved ones rest in peace. Enjoy the afterlife for a while.
But no! Instead, they’ve got to go… passing all these laws. “Keep your fingers off my Suzie.” “Let
my grandma rest in peace.” And Gerald! “Oh Gerald! You’ve defiled Gerald!”
(Small pause)
Please. I knew that man when he was alive. If any man deserved defiling, it was him. He had a...
stick up his ass the day he was born. Ironically, when I... made love to him, it was the least rigid he
had ever been. He finally allowed himself, in my arms, to just relax. They say the dead have left
their body, but that man was still inside it, let me tell you. And he loved every minute of it!
(Small pause)
Gay? Am I? No. No, I wouldn’t say I am. There’s too much... stigma, I believe. Too much... baggage.
In fact, I wouldn’t be caught dead with another man.
(Giggling)
Of course, Gerald would.
(He claps perversely at his own joke)
But no, I… I’m not a pervert. I simply have a predilection for experimenting. And you have to
understand the nature of our relationship. Gerald and... myself. We were colleagues at the
university. Long before this...
(Indicating handcuffs)
Nasty business came about. He was a brilliant man. His lectures on the saline compounds in the
human bloodstream were... awe-inspiring. I loved to listen to that man speak.
(Chokes up, covers mouth with hand)
I’m sorry.
(Deep breath)
I’ve only slept with... four... corpses. It was purely in the name of science. It was… They had all
been subjects at the university. All of them. Donated themselves. Completely. Freely. Explicit in their
wills. For the good of science. For the good of all humanity. I’ve slept with other people too, you
know. Mostly living. Of course, my... ex-wife, she was... well, let’s just say the corpses gave off
more heat than she did!
(Chuckles proudly at his joke)
Yes, you can... put that in your magazine. Your... newspaper. Whatever it is you call it.
(Small pause)
You know, I’ve read the things the papers say. The... I’m sorry, which one are you with again?
(Smirking)
Yes. Yes. That’s right. You... Yes.
(He nods his head, in thought.)
Indeed.
(Small pause)
Oh no, you’re... You’ve been quite tasteful really. Quite factual. I... I really can’t complain. It was
these other shits. Mike Gibson at the Globe. That faggot wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on the
ass! Lies and hearsay, that’s all it is. Do you know the New York Times... The New York Times!
Claimed that I, quote, “allegedly had relations with half a dozen corpses, maybe more.” End quote.
(Pause)
Half a dozen corpses. Where do I find the stamina? The... the state of Arizona, on the other hand,
has against me four counts of sexual misbehavior. Four. There’s no six... seven... eight, or nine!
Why don’t you get your facts straight, New York Times? I thought you were paid to write the truth!
(Small pause)
Ah, but who bloody cares about the truth these days? It’s all sensation.
(Small pause)
Gerald. Gerald Sandishmeer. Now he. He was a man of science. He cared about the truth.
(Sigh)
Yes, well, let us get on with it. My first... victim, if you believe the hype – and frankly, I don’t believe
she was a victim, but that’s... regardless. She. She was a vision. I confess, I... don’t know how
scientific I was being in that whole affair. She was... When they first brought her in, I... felt my
heart explode. I felt my lungs evaporate and... the room... light up with color. When I unzipped that
bag, I knew she was... Excuse me? Oh, I know. A man of science. I should... yes, yes, rub it in.
(Chuckles)
Well, let me tell you this, my young, eager friend. Love... is scientific. It may not be a... rational
enterprise like biology, but there is a... formula all the same. Golden hair, plus tender skin, and the
lips of a little angel.
(Kisses fingers, blows a kiss to the reporter)
She was very young. The... Too young for death. She... A baby, really. 25. She looked like one of my
students. I wanted to protect her. I... saw... sadness in her cheekbones. In her shoulders. Her… life
was cruel and vicious. Suicide. I thought… somehow I could bring her back to life again. I could...
love her alive. Like Sleeping Beauty. Susan Anderson was her name. Suzanne. Anderson. God,
she'd kill me if she heard me say that! She was... the daughter of a coal miner. Her mother was...
I'm sorry. That’s not true. Yes, you’re right. Her father was... a salesman. Cars. That’s right. I... had
a whole back story for her. I didn’t know anything for real until these proceedings came about.
(Sucking in air)
God, I don’t even know who she is anymore. But… for two whole days I stayed up with her. I tried
to talk with her. Get to know her. Learn... her. We were to cut her up on Monday. So… Sunday
night, I… took her. In my arms. It was very late. The janitor had finished up his rounds. I… told him I
was there to do some research. He didn’t speak a word of English. I don’t know why I felt the need
to… explain anything to him. He… I could have… I could have told him I was there to fuck that young
woman and he would have smiled and said “Si, senor.” Si. No wonder I don’t like the living. You
can't communicate any more with the living than you can with the dead. In fact, the… living are
sometimes harder. With the dead, you can... impose anything you want on them, and they’ll play
along with it. It’s more fun that way. With Ms. Anderson, it was... She was. In love with me. And I
remember climbing up on her, I.. felt this wave of nausea. Formaldehyde was.. And her skin. Her
skin was not… It was unwelcoming. After all those nights I spent with her, she... Three times I
almost stopped. But… I tell you… when my breath bounced off of her, when I… felt my heartbeat
pulsing through my veins and hers was not, I felt… alive! For the first time in twenty years, I felt
alive! Just me and… my Suzanne. The corpse. The next day, I cut her up. In front of 20 students, I
dissected... my Suzanne. I peeled back the skin above her sternum, and pulled apart her rib cage
to reveal her heart. I lectured twenty students for thirty minutes on the inner functions of the
human pulmonary system as I held her heart inside my hand, and I never… broke… a sweat. You
would have been so proud of me. And you say to me that love, oh sweet innocent love is not
scientific. Oh no, young man, love is the most scientific formula there is.
(Small pause)
Excuse me.
(Pours a drink of water)
Would you like some?
(Reporter declines. BAINBRIDGE nods)
You know, we’re… really quite alike, yourself and I. We both like to… stick our noses in other
people's...
(Smirking)
Privacy.
(Small pause)
Yes, you want to know the formula, do you? Well, I’m still in the research phase, you understand. I
haven’t got it all worked out just yet. But… I’ll tell you, corpses make the best placebos. After
everything was… over between Suzanne and I, I… felt the need to study more. To research more.
I… had to know if… my feelings were entirely irrational, or if, indeed, there was something scientific
there at all. I hate irrationality. If I doesn’t make sense, I get all… jumpy inside and nervous. So,
the next woman who came in was… she was very old. Very old. She had… wrinkles. Pockmarks on
her skin. A liver spot or two. It was purely scientific.
(Pause)
I’m sorry, what?
(Small pause)
Oh.
(Small pause)
Yes. Yes, I always wore a condom.
(Leaning in closely)
I... couldn’t have my sessions complicated by their… I taught my students well, you know? I... have
the utmost faith in them. Their methods of examination are quite thorough. So yes, I… I always
wore protection. And when I was done, I hosed them down. Inside and out. I took the utmost care
and precision with all my patients. And that’s why that… fucking janitor is… Jorge’ or whatever the
fuck his name is. Sexual misbehavior. Desecration of a corpse. They… they were there for science!
There’s no… I tell you, if that janitor were here right now, I’d... wring his bloody throat! And no, I
would not have sex with his body. I have standards!
(Pause)
Four in the morning. What is he doing cleaning garbage at four in the morning?!? His shift is over at
two.
(Covers his face with his hand)
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all been very trying. I... I couldn’t believe it when he died, you know?
Gerald. We had lunch together every Thursday. Every Thursday. He… talked about his latest
projects and I would listen. I would… listen. With amazement. He was not an attractive man. He
was… simply... Gerald. When he died, he… donated himself to the university. That’s all he ever
talked about was the university. His research. He wanted to be a part of it forever.
(Removes a cigarette from pocket. He offers one to the reporter)
Fag?
(Small pause. He glares disdainfully at reporter. Retracts his hand)
Well, I wasn’t offering. I was asking.
(Lights the cigarette)
You know, the irony is Gerald hated homosexuals. He had a thing about telling gay jokes. That fag
thing was my favorite. But, you know, I’ve… never seen him with a woman, either. I don’t know
what he liked. I… always just assumed he was in love with me. But he never said anything about it.
He… never had the guts. Not that I… would necessarily have done anything with him, you see. I
mean… can you picture me going to a faculty party with Gerald Sandishmeer? Holding hands?
Skipping, jumping, and all that other bullshit? Please. That’s not my bag of tricks. We’re both very
private men.
(Small pause)
Well yes, I’m talking to you now. You talked to me first, remember? What are you getting at? You
know, why… why don’t you tell me about yourself? I mean, I’ve been… yammering on for twenty
minutes here. I… What’s your predilection? Ever fantasize about necrophilia? That’s what it’s called,
you know. Necrophilia. Sex with the no longer living. I looked it up after my first time. I was
mortified. It turns out it’s completely natural. It helps us understand our own mortality.
(Smiling)
Actually, they say it’s a form of masturbation. After all, these bodies are inanimate. Like fucking a
dildo or a rubber pussy.
(Begins to giggle)
You should have seen the look on the janitor’s face when he walked in. When Gerald and I were… I
know, I shouldn’t laugh, but… it was priceless. It looked like this.
(Stands up and imitates the janitor’s reaction)
I just… sort of waved at him. And kept on going. What was I supposed to do, you know? And he
just… stared at me. I thought, “What is he going to do? He can’t even speak a word of English.”
(Pause)
I didn’t know 911 had a Spanish translator.
(He sits)
Bloody hell.
(Lights out. End of play)

Romance Is Dead