Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta GAVARRE BENJAMIN: SEX DECORUM & CHECKMATE. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta GAVARRE BENJAMIN: SEX DECORUM & CHECKMATE. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 12 de octubre de 2026

SEX, DECORUM, & CHECKMATE.

  

 






SEX, DECORUM, & CHECKMATE

A one-act dream farce

by Benjamin Gavarre

bengavarre@gmail.com



SEX, DECORUM, & CHECKMATE. © 2026 by BENJAMIN GAVARRE is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

 

CHARACTERS:

  • ERNEST: Sixties. Stubborn, walks with a cane, anchored in traditional manners. (Mexican american).
  • ARTHUR: His friend and chess rival. On the verge of a nervous breakdown.
  • LUCY: The daughter. Modern, cheerful, uninhibited. (Blonde).
  • MATT: The boyfriend. Relaxed, dresses with a bohemian touch. (Even blonder than Lucy).
  • CLAIRE: Ernest’s wife. Practical and armed with a suspiciously heavy purse. (Super blonde).

 

Set: A comfortable middle-class living room in a classic Chicago greystone, complete with bookshelves and a record player. Center stage, a small table with a chessboard.

(The curtain rises. Ernest and Arthur are playing chess. Ernest’s hand is suspended over the board, holding a knight. He is completely frozen, staring into space. One second passes. Five pass. Arthur leans in, looking closely. He waves a hand in front of Ernest’s eyes. Nothing.)

 

ARTHUR: (Low voice) Ernest? (Silence) Ernest, for the love of God!

 

(The lighting shifts subtly. A bluish hue bathes the center of the room, leaving the chessboard in a warm cone of light. A French waltz begins to play, but performed on a slightly out-of-tune accordion and a playful double bass.)

 

ARTHUR: (Beginning to despair. He stands up from his chair, pulling his hair exaggeratedly) You’ve been like this for ten minutes! Move the piece or I’m going on strike!

 

(Arthur paces back and forth across the stage with his hands behind his back, huffing, exactly like an expectant father in a maternity ward. He goes to the door, grabs the knob, rethinks it, returns to the table, and feigns hitting Ernest on the head to snap him out of it. Ernest, without breaking his trance or looking at him, raises his free hand and makes a half-hearted gesture, like shooing away an annoying fly.)

 

ARTHUR: (Indignant) Are you shooing me like a fly? If I’m a fly, you’re a sloth in hibernation! I’m growing old waiting for you to move!

 

(While Arthur continues grumbling silently and walking in circles, Ernest physically stands up from his chair. Oddly, Arthur keeps yelling at the empty chair. Ernest’s body is technically still there, but his mind has just stepped into the dreamscape. Through the front door, Lucy and Matt enter. They don’t walk; they waltz in to the background music. He spins her. They stop in the center of the room and share a prolonged, passionate, and noisy kiss.)

 

ERNEST (DREAM): (Banging his cane on the floor) Whoa, whoa, whoa! You’re gonna swallow her tonsils, boy! Let her go, she’s not chewing gum!

 

LUCY: (Laughing, without letting go of Matt’s neck) Oh, Dad, don’t be so old-fashioned. Matt was just passing me some oxygen.

 

MATT: (With an exaggerated bow) Good afternoon, Mr. Ernest. We came to officially notify you that we’re moving in together. Maybe into an unfurnished apartment, just to let the energy flow.

 

ERNEST (DREAM): (Puts a hand to his chest, scandalized, moving like a silent movie actor) Over my dead body! This house has principles! How are you going to support her? By reciting poetry to houseplants? And look at the two of you! She’s blonde, you’re blonder... if you have kids, they’re going to glow in the dark! I’ll need sunglasses just to hold my grandchildren!

 

MATT: (Quickly kisses Lucy on the nose) With love, Father-in-law. Love pays for everything. And we’ll buy you polarized lenses, promise.

 

(Enter Claire at a brisk pace, gripping a purse that looks like it weighs ten pounds. She sees the scene and crosses herself with her free hand.)

 

CLAIRE: Sweet Lord in Heaven! Not in the living room, you’ll stain the rug with your indecency! (To Ernest) Do something, Ernest! Tell him decent men ask for the hand first, and the lips second!

 

(Matt, feeling cheeky, kisses Lucy again, this time dipping her backward in a tango move that completely clashes with the background waltz.)

 

ERNEST (DREAM): Oh, no, this is a provocation!

 

(A choreographed, physical chase begins in time with the music. Ernest raises his cane like a sword. Claire hoists her purse like a mace. They chase Matt around the room, but the boyfriend dodges the blows with elegant dance moves. Lucy laughs and claps.)

 

ERNEST (DREAM): (Swinging his cane at the air) Get out of my house, you bohemian!

 

CLAIRE: (Swinging her purse, which Matt dodges with a pirouette) Get a job first and kiss later, you hooligan!

 

MATT: (Spinning Lucy as he escapes) Youth is unstoppable, Mr. Ernest! Accept your defeat!

 

(The music speeds up. The four of them run in circles around the chess table, where Arthur is still pulling his hair in front of the empty chair. Ernest corners Matt against the bookcase, raising his cane...)

 

ARTHUR: (Screaming at the top of his lungs in the real world, slamming his hand on the table) MOVE ALREADY, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!

 

(Abrupt cut in the music. The blue light vanishes. Claire, Lucy, and Matt fade into the shadows. Ernest, disoriented, blinks. He looks at his hand, still suspended in the air holding the knight. He drops the knight, which rolls across the board. At that exact moment, the living room door opens for real.)

(Enter Lucy and Matt. They are holding hands, smiling. Matt approaches Ernest, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and plants a loud kiss on his cheek.)

 

MATT: How’s it going, Mr. Ernest? You’re looking handsome today, full of light!

 

(Ernest brings his hand to his cheek, horrified, and then to his chest. His eyes widen drastically. He begins to dramatize a heart attack of theatrical proportions, staggering backward.)

 

ERNEST: I’m dying! My heart! I’ve just been kissed by a man wearing a scarf in mid-May! It’s the big one!

 

ARTHUR: (Unfazed, his eyes glued to the board) Breathe, Ernest, breathe. And while you breathe, move. Don’t you dare drop dead without seeing the trap I set with my bishop.

 

(Enter Claire carrying a tray full of coffee cups and cookies. Her heavy purse hangs from the crook of her arm.)

 

CLAIRE: Stop your bickering, you two old babies. Come in, kids, sit down.

 

(Ernest miraculously recovers upon seeing that no one is paying attention to his medical emergency. He clears his throat and sits rigidly. Lucy and Matt remain standing, looking at each other lovingly. Lucy leans on Matt’s shoulder and, in a quick motion, gives his rear end a blatant squeeze. Claire freezes. Matt returns the gesture, giving Lucy’s rear a playful, sexy squeeze.)

 

CLAIRE: (At the top of her lungs) HOLY TRINITY AND ALL THE ANGELS IN HEAVEN AND PURGATORY! HE JUST GRABBED YOUR DAUGHTER’S BEHIND! AND SHE, YOUR DAUGHTER, JUST GRABBED HIS... HIS...!

 

(Claire drops the tray with a clatter, grabs her purse by the strap like a medieval flail, and lunges at Matt.)

 

CLAIRE: Keep your hands to yourself! You pervert! YOU'RE BOTH PERVERTS! Not in my living room, you’ll stain the upholstery!

 

(Whack! First purse swing. Matt jumps and takes off running. A frantic chase begins, but this time it is no dream. Claire chases Matt, wildly swinging her purse. Ernest jumps up to chase his wife.)

 

ERNEST: (Running behind Claire) Claire, for God’s sake, your blood pressure! Your sciatica! Leave him alone, they’re from another era, they’re modern! Drop the purse, woman, it’s full of canned peaches!

 

CLAIRE: (Throwing another swing) I don't give a damn about modernity, there is decency in this house!

 

(While the three chase each other, Arthur stands up holding the chessboard, chasing Ernest. Lucy watches from the sofa, casually eating a cookie.)

 

ARTHUR: (Walking behind Ernest, ignoring the purse swings) Lucy, look closely. Your father won't admit it, but by moving my pawn to H3, I’ve blocked his rook’s exit. And frankly, Ernest, I don't know why you're so protective! Look at her! She’s practically Scandinavian and you look like you just Mexican Mojado! Half the time I’m surprised that Ice didn’t ask you for your passport! Is your daughter really your daughter, Ernest, look at the board while you run!

 

ERNEST: (Stopping dead in his tracks, managing to halt Claire) Enough! Enough!  Arthur, you’re so stupid! Surely I’m her stepfather, but I’m her father… Claire, calm down. Leave them be. They need to be free! Besides... (he makes a dismissive gesture, thinking he is still in his dream) I’ve already seen them do much worse!

 

(Dead silence in the living room. Arthur lowers the board. Claire’s eyes go wide as saucers. Matt peeks out from behind a floor lamp, sweating.)

 

CLAIRE: (Scandalized) Ernest! What do you mean you’ve seen them? Seen them do what?! Have you been spying on your own daughter through the keyhole?!

 

MATT: (Going completely pale, outing himself entirely) But... but we always close the bedroom door and lock it! And I wedge the chair under the doorknob!

 

(The silence grows even denser.)

 

ERNEST: (His face shifts from understanding to blood red) You two do WHAT?! WITH A LOCK AND A CHAIR?!

 

(The conservative old man snaps back instantly. Ernest grabs his cane and lets out the roar of a wounded lion, lunging at Matt. Claire drops her purse and jumps onto Ernest's back to hold him back.)

 

CLAIRE: (Pulling Ernest backward) Ernest, don’t kill him, we’ll have to pay funeral expenses and it’s the end of the month! Calm down! You said they were modern!

 

ERNEST: (Flailing with his cane) Modern out on the street! In my house, they are cloistered monks! Get over here, you discount stud!

 

ARTHUR: (Completely unhinged, he steps in between them, hoisting his wooden knight like a trophy) I DON'T GIVE A CRAP ABOUT THIS BOY'S VIRGINITY! IT’S MY TURN! MOVE YOUR PIECE OR I SWEAR I’LL MAKE YOU CHOKE ON THE BISHOP!

 

(Ernest stops. He looks at Arthur, who is on the verge of total collapse. Then he looks at Claire hanging off his back, at Matt hiding, and at Lucy dying of laughter. The pressure bursts. He screams at the top of his lungs, marches to the table, shoves his hands under the board, and flips it into the air.)

 

ERNEST: TO HELL WITH CHESS, MORALITY, AND DOORS WITH LOCKS! I’ve had it! Go live together! Get married, move in, become hippies, do whatever the hell you want, since you’re already doing it behind my back anyway! You are free!

 

(The wooden pieces rain down on the rug. Lucy hugs Matt and plants a passionate kiss on him. Everyone laughs uproariously, infected by the cathartic explosion. Arthur picks up the black King, pockets it, and mutters: "It was checkmate anyway.")

 

(Ernest turns to look at Claire with a mischievous glint in his eye. Without warning, he grabs her by the waist, dips her backward in a dramatic tango move, and gives her rear end a blatant squeeze.)

 

CLAIRE: (Jumping, startled) Ernest! What are you doing, you dirty old man!

 

ERNEST: (Giving her a quick kiss) Updating myself, my love. Just to show you that I can be modern, too!

 

(Claire laughs heartily and swats him gently with her purse. The couples kiss amidst the chaos of the fallen chess pieces. Arthur crosses his arms, smiling.)

 

CURTAIN

 

SEX, DECORUM, & CHECKMATE. © 2026 by BENJAMIN GAVARRE is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0

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