The Ultimate Hopeless Super Crush. A Farce Comedy in One Act. By Gavarre Ben.

  

 

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The Ultimate Hopeless Super Crush

A Farce Comedy in One Act

 

By Gavarre Ben

 

Introduction: The Ultimate Hopeless Super Crush

Synopsis:

 

What happens when teenage hormones collide head-on with the reality of a "too-attractive" mother? In this one-act farce, Kevin is trying to survive a calculus exam while his best friend, Ryan, gets lost in the eyes of Kevin’s mom, Laura. Between oatmeal cookies, green juices, and the chaos caused by an eight-year-old convinced that mothers simply cannot be women, the situation escalates to a point of no return. When the doorbell rings and an unexpected "reinforcement" arrives, Kevin discovers that his worst nightmare isn't failing math—it's having his own family become the epicenter of a generational mess.

 

This play is a farce. Characters should be played with energy, sharp physical movements, and a fast-paced tempo. The humor arises from the contrast between the life-and-death seriousness of the teenagers' drama and the sheer absurdity of the predicament they find themselves in.

 

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This work has been published for free and open dissemination, although all intellectual property rights are reserved. Public use of this work requires permission from the author and for permission contact bengavarre@gmail.com or gavarreunam@gmail.com (Reg. Prop. Int. Expte. Inbox)

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CHARACTERS

• LAURA (41): Radiant and youthful. Wears a pastel yoga set that highlights her figure. Impeccable hair and a trail of expensive perfume.
• KEVIN (17): The eldest son. Wears a vintage rock band tee, ripped jeans, and messy hair. He looks sleep-deprived and neurotic.
• TIMMY (8): The youngest son. Wears dinosaur pajamas, a red superhero cape, and a luchador (wrestler) mask. He carries a plastic sword.
• RYAN (17): The "heartthrob." Wears a tight polo shirt, way too much hair gel, and a commercial-ready smile.
• JOSH (17): The "relaxed" one. Wears baggy clothes, a backwards cap, and always has a bag of chips in his hand.
• MARK (43): Ryan’s dad. A mature, more attractive version of his son. Leather jacket, dark jeans, and boots. Oozes confidence.

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SETTING & LIGHTING

The stage is split into two zones:

1.    STAGE RIGHT (Kevin’s Room): A chaos of books, laundry, and gaming posters. Warm, slightly childish lighting.

2.    STAGE LEFT (Living Room-Kitchen): A cozy, modern space with plants and fresh flowers. Radiant, inviting lighting.

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SCENE 1: TEENAGE CHAOS

(In KEVIN’S room. JOSH is sprawled on the bed eating chips. KEVIN is at a desk buried in books, pulling his hair. RYAN is standing at the edge of the room, staring passionately toward the living room).

KEVIN: (Slamming a book) Ryan! If you don't solve for "X" today, the teacher is going to crush our skulls with his giant old textbooks tomorrow!

JOSH: Forget it, Kevin. Ryan is in the middle of a "Hopeless Super Crush."

(LAURA enters carrying a tray with oatmeal cookies and green juices. She’s in her yoga outfit and looks like she’s in her late 20s).

LAURA: Pardon me, boys. I brought something healthy so your brains don't rust.

RYAN: (In a deep, husky voice) Ms. Laura... the glow in your eyes lights up our entire day.

LAURA: (Giggles nervously, twirls her hair and winds a lock around her ear) Oh, Ryan! You say the sweetest things. You're such a gentleman... unlike some people who don't even say hello.

KEVIN: (Red with rage) Mom! Just leave the cookies and go! Ryan, sit down!

JOSH: (Laughing) Careful, Ryan. Kati will rip your eyelashes off if she finds out you're playing poet with your mother-in-law... I mean, Kevin’s mom.

RYAN: (Eyes locked on Laura) Kati is the past. Ms. Laura is the... the Sunrise.

LAURA: (Flirty) Enjoy the cookies, boys. (She exits, swaying her hips slightly).

RYAN: (Sighing) Oh, Laura... (Awkward pause) Did you see the way she walked? She doesn't walk, Kevin... she levitates through the air!

KEVIN: Don’t talk about my mom like that!

JOSH: Yeah, dude, you’re over the line... She’s ancient!

RYAN: I think she likes me.

KEVIN & JOSH: Shut up, man!

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SCENE 2: THE KITCHEN – MINUTES LATER

(LAURA is alone, humming a song. RYAN enters stealthily, pretending to look for a glass of water).

RYAN: Do you need help with that pitcher, Ms. Laura? I’m ready to help you... with anything.

LAURA: (Turning around, surprised and pleased) Ryan... you’re making me blush. Shouldn’t you be studying Newton’s Laws?

RYAN: The only law I recognize right now is the Law of Attraction...

(They move dangerously close. Romance is in the air. Suddenly, TIMMY appears wearing his mask and brandishing his plastic sword).

TIMMY: HALT! IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!

LAURA: (Jumping in fright) Timmy! What are you doing here?

TIMMY: (Pointing his sword at Ryan) Why are you looking at my mom like she’s a cheeseburger?

RYAN: (Nervous) It’s just... she’s a very... very special woman, Timmy.

TIMMY: (Dead serious) You’re wrong. My mom isn’t a woman, she’s my mom! Moms aren't women!

LAURA: (Indignant) Timmy! I am a woman in the prime of my life!

TIMMY: (Yelling toward the bedroom) KEVINNNN! RYAN WANTS TO EAT MY MOM BECAUSE HE SAYS SHE’S A WOMAN AND I TOLD HIM NO!

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SCENE 3: THE FINAL CHAOS

(TIMMY runs off crying. In the hallway, he crashes into KEVIN and JOSH who are rushing down in a panic).

KEVIN: (Catching Timmy) What happened? Why are you crying?

TIMMY: (Sobbing) Ryan is saying weird things! He says my mom is pretty! Tell him my mom IS MY MOM!

JOSH: (Dying of laughter) Poor Bedipus, his mommy doesn't pay attention to him anymore!

(They reach the kitchen. Ryan is trying to hide behind the fridge. Laura is quickly touching up her lipstick).

KEVIN: (To Ryan) I’m going to kill you! Look what you did to my little brother!

LAURA: That’s enough, everyone! (Authoritatively) Ryan, study. Kevin, stop shouting. And Timmy... honey... (She kneels to his level) I am your mommy, and I’m also a very beautiful woman.

TIMMY: (Crying harder) Nooooo! You’re mine!

JOSH: (Opening a pizza box that just arrived) Pizza’s here! Let's eat. Love doesn't fill the stomach, but pepperoni does.

RYAN: (Whispering to Laura as they move to the table) Do I get the stuffed crust?

LAURA: (Winking) Only if you finish your homework, tiger.

KEVIN: (To the ceiling) Someone just shoot me!

(Lights go dark)

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SCENE 4: THE DOORBELL OF DISCORD

(Minutes later. The kitchen is a mess. Kevin is chasing Ryan around the table, Josh is finishing the pizza, and Timmy is dramatically sobbing while hugging a cereal box. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. A loud, firm knock).

LAURA: (Drying her hands on her apron) Enough! You’re acting like animals! I’ll get it.

(Laura opens the door. MARK enters. He is basically Ryan, but with 25 more years of gym time, a perfectly trimmed beard, and a shirt that fits perfectly. He wears a leather jacket and looks stern... until he sees Laura).

MARK: Good evening. Sorry for the intrusion. I’m Mark, Ryan’s dad. My son wasn’t answering his phone and I thought... I didn’t know Kevin had a sister. (He slowly takes off his sunglasses).

LAURA: (Breathless. She frantically twirls her hair and winds it around her ear) Oh... uh... that’s a bit of a cliché, don’t you think? I’m Kevin’s mom... Laura.

MARK: (Takes her hand and kisses it) Kevin... a pleasure. Ryan mentioned a "Laura" here and there... I didn't listen to him, can you believe it?

RYAN: (Coming out from behind the sofa) Dad?! What are you doing here? Go away!

MARK: (Laughing) Son, you still have baby teeth... don’t be a nuisance.

KEVIN: (Looking from one to the other) THIS IS A NIGHTMARE! Now your father is my worst enemy!

JOSH: (Sitting on the arm of a chair) I’m just saying, if your mom dates Mr. Mark, you and Ryan would be brothers. That’s actually pretty cool.

KEVIN: NEVER!

TIMMY: (Appearing again, looking at Mark) Aha! Gargamel! With the power of my sword, take this, villain!

MARK: (Crouching to his level) Little guy, if I’m Gargamel... which Smurf are you?

TIMMY: (Crying again) I’m not a Smurf! Mom! Tell him to leave! (He runs off stage).

LAURA: (To Mark, ignoring her sons' drama) I didn't know you liked wine, Mark...

MARK: (Offering his arm) Well, well... I like the initiative. I love wine, and I know a great spot... Shall we?

LAURA: Boys, there’s pizza in the fridge. Ryan, Josh, study. Kevin... watch your brother. (Exits on Mark's arm, winking at the camera).

RYAN: (Sinking into the chair) My own father betrayed me... this is unholy.

KEVIN: (Locking the door with three locks) That’s it! Starting tomorrow, we are studying at the Library! And there is a total ban on talking about women or moms.

JOSH: (Finishing his juice) Hey, Kevin... is it true your dad has a younger sister who’s really hot?

KEVIN: She’s gorgeous and she has a girlfriend who will break your face!

JOSH: Figures... Given the circumstances, I think I’ll just become a lesbian.

RYAN: I’m right behind you, Josh. We can experiment together, what do you think?

JOSH: I have no idea what’s happening.

KEVIN: Come here, I’ll explain. That’s what friends are for.

JOSH: Ryan! Ryan’s mom! Mr. Mark! HELP!

TIMMY: (Unsheathing his sword) I’m here! Don’t worry, I shall fight for Justice!

(Everyone laughs at Timmy’s final heroic entrance).

(CURTAIN)

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"Troglodyte Power"

"Troglodyte Power"

 By Gavarre Ben

SETTING: The lobby and Suite 47 of the "Potomac Dreams Motel". It’s the kind of place that was built to look patriotic in 1974 but now just looks suspicious. The carpets have faded stars that look like stains, and the fake wood walls emit a faint scent of lemon wax and Cold War secrets.

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SCENE I: The Strategy of the Absurd

(Motel lobby. DONALD is holding a scented envelope with a pair of surgical tweezers. ELON is floating next to him, hovering three inches off the floor thanks to his "Founder Edition" jet boots).

DONALD: (With the gravity of a man facing a nuclear crisis) Look at this, Elon. It’s a perfect envelope. The paper is heavy, the ink is dark, and the calligraphy is almost… professional. But the content is a disaster for the administration. They’ve summoned me here, to this suburban hole. It’s either a media hit job or a very low-budget coup d’état.

ELON: (Scanning the envelope with a laser coming out of his wrist) My proprietary fluid-analysis algorithm has detected high concentrations of "Spousal Resentment" and "Legal Retribution." There is a 99.8% probability that Mel is currently in Suite 47, sitting on a polyester bedspread, waiting to execute a mass-divorce protocol.

DONALD: Impossible! Mel is currently in Mar-a-Lago, engaged in the high-stakes task of counting palm trees. Camilo, check the electronic ledger!

CAMILO: (He presses a button on a small black box hanging from his neck; a robotic, glitchy voice emerges) "THE MADAM IS CURRENTLY ON A CLANDESTINE RECONNAISSANCE MISSION AT THE CRYSTAL CITY MALL. SHE REQUESTS NO INTERRUPTIONS UNLESS THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE."

DONALD: You see? It’s a trap. A classic decoy. Elon, you’re a man of science and questionable ethics. You go. If it’s a beautiful woman with a recording device, tell her I’m a very busy leader but I can offer her an under-secretary position in the Department of Energy. If it’s Mel, tell her I’m currently on Mars, and that the reception is terrible.

ELON: (Adjusting his titanium-rimmed glasses) I’ll go. I’ll activate my "Venture Capitalist" stealth mode. No one notices a billionaire in a motel; they just think it’s a glitch in the simulation.

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SCENE II: The Bellboy and the Bureaucrat

(Elon enters Suite 47. DONALD hides behind a noisy ice machine. PELEÓN enters, dragging RONNIE by the collar. Ronnie is identical to Donald, but he’s wearing a stained red uniform and a look of profound, alcoholic resignation).

PELEÓN: Ronnie! I’ve told you a thousand times: if I catch you drinking industrial-grade mezcal behind the front desk again, I’m deporting you to the suburbs! We have important guests! People with high credit limits and low moral standards!

RONNIE: (Squinting at Donald, who is peaking out from behind the ice machine) Boss, that guy over there looks exactly like the man I see in my nightmares. Only his tie is longer and his skin is the color of a sunset in a polluted city.

PELEÓN: Shut up! It’s just the lighting. Take these towels up to Suite 47. And for the love of the Marine Corps, don’t breathe on the guests. Your breath could melt a presidential seal.

(Ronnie stumbles into Suite 47. MEL is there, wearing a trench coat and a dark veil. Seeing Ronnie, she leaps from the chair).

MEL: Donald! I caught you! I knew your curiosity was the only thing bigger than your ego. You actually came to this dump!

RONNIE: (Struggling to keep his balance while holding four stiff towels) Whoa, take it easy, lady! Don’t grab the lapels, this uniform is held together by hope and old starch. My name isn’t Donald, it’s Ronnie, and I’m just here to provide the minimal level of hospitality required by law.

MEL: (Backing away, disgusted) Donald? Why are you speaking like a man who has lost his dignity and his dental insurance? And why do you smell like a gas station fire?

(ELON floats into the room, looking disappointed).

ELON: Donald! You’re an analog liar! You told me you were too busy for this. And Mel… I see you’ve adopted the "Spy Chic" look. But I’m afraid my AI has determined this man is a low-resolution copy of your husband. He’s a glitch.

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SCENE III: The Nixon Wall

(Suddenly, GENERAL Z bursts into the lobby, waving a gold-plated pistol and shouting at the ceiling).

GENERAL Z: I know you’re in here! I can smell the aroma of democratic hypocrisy and cheap sándalo! Donald, come out and face me like a man, or I will use this gold-plated artifact to renegotiate our trade deficit!

DONALD: (Sprinting out from behind the ice machine) Peace, General! Peace! It’s a misunderstanding of galactic proportions! The man inside is not me; he’s a production error, a biological prototype gone wrong!

(General Z kicks open the door to Suite 47. He sees Ronnie cowering under the bed).

GENERAL Z: Wretch! I told you not to touch my offshore accounts! (He aims at Ronnie’s rear end).

PELEÓN: (Entering with a whistle) Nobody move! This is a regulated establishment! (He slams a red button on the wall labeled EMERGENCY ESCAPE).

(The bed begins to rotate with a screeching, metallic sound that suggests it hasn’t been oiled since the Ford administration. The mechanism jams halfway through. Donald, who was trying to crawl through a service hatch, gets caught in the turning wall: his head is in the suite, his legs are in the hallway).

DONALD: (Screaming) Elon! Do something! The architecture of this motel is violating my civil liberties! It’s crushing my lower back!

ELON: (Calmly taking high-resolution photos with his watch) Donald, don’t move. The lighting is cinematic. It’s perfect for a post about "The Weight of the State." I’m going to buy this motel and turn it into a museum of political failure.

GENERAL Z: (Looking at Donald’s head protruding from the wall) Ah! It’s a hydra! You cut off one tax break, and another one appears with a red tie!

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EPILOGUE: THE REPUBLIC OF THE EMPTY BOTTLE

(Two hours later. The Motel Bar. It is dark and smells like 1974. RONNIE and GENERAL Z are sitting at the bar. Three empty bottles of mezcal sit between them. The General has taken off his medals; Ronnie is wearing Donald’s discarded red tie as a headband).

GENERAL Z: (Hugging Ronnie like a brother) You’re the only one who understands, Ronnie. You’re not like those politicians who talk about "synergy" and "leverage." You’re a man of liquid substance.

RONNIE: Exactly, General. In this bar, we are all equal before the pour. Donald is still upstairs, stuck in the wall waiting for the fire department to arrive with the Jaws of Life, but we… we have found a new sovereignty.

GENERAL Z: (Banging the bar with his gold pistol) Ronnie! I have a vision! This bar is a neutral zone. It’s not D.C., it’s not my country. Let’s declare independence!

RONNIE: (Grinning) I love it. We’ll call it "The Republic of the Empty Bottle." Our national anthem will be a rhythmic hiccup and our flag will be a stained tablecloth.

GENERAL Z: (Standing up with drunken solemnity) I shall be the Minister of Defense and the Guard of the Snacks! You shall be the President of Long Naps! Here, there are no walls that turn, only glasses that refill!

RONNIE: (Raising his glass) To the Republic, General! And if McSwindle tries to invade, we’ll tell him we’re out of office. Permanently.

(ELON walks in with a sleek metal briefcase).

ELON: Gentlemen, I’ve just registered your new country’s domain name on my satellite network. I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you a licensing fee for the air you’re breathing. It’s the market rate.

RONNIE: (To Elon) We don’t accept tech-bro credit. We only accept corks and honesty. Get out of our airspace, space man!

(Camilo enters, presses a button on his synthesizer, and a loud, upbeat tropical rumba fills the room as the lights fade to black).

CURTAIN.