Borrowed Time

  A drab office that smacks of 1970’s office drones working away their drab lives. These people once had dreams. Now they only long for easy days with no surprises. It is time for shift change.


(We see on office drone Ralph on stage wearing a drab blazer and a tie. A second drone, Sam,  in quite similar attire enters.)


Ralph: Morning Sam.


Sam: Morning Ralph.


Ralph: Just getting back?


Sam: Yeah.


Ralph: Oof. That’s rough.


Sam: Yeah.


Ralph: At least you filled your punch card.


Sam: Nope.


Ralph: Nope? Whaddaya mean, Nope? It’s impossible to miss one.


Sam: Well, I did.


Ralph: Just fudge it. If you were a little late, Just tick them off anyway. No one will notice.


Sam: I wasn’t late. I was right on time, but I was barred. Interlopers.


Ralph: Oh! (laughs with relief) You had me going for a second. Interlopers! (chuckles)


Sam: No joke. It keeps getting harder. The close ones, they keep getting snagged by

one of those, whatcha-call ‘em? A goddamned


Ralph & Sam: (in unison) Paramedics!


Ralph: That should be no problem. Just take ‘em over.


Sam: Tried. Couldn’t. He was a believer..


Ralph: That should have made it easier! Believers are all about “God’s Plan,” whatever 

that means. Should have been ecstatic about getting possessed by His Powerful

Omnificence.

Sam: Wrong team. He was a Satanist.


Ralph: I thought that would make it easier. Those guys worship death.


Sam: Wrong-o Friend-o. Satanists are the most life affirming people you will ever 

encounter. They don’t believe in the afterlife. They think 80 years in meat-space 

is all you get. When you die, you die. That’s their dogma, and so they will do 

everything in their power to prolong a life. 


Ralph: Really? Could have sworn they worshiped Satan. Doesn’t that imply an 

afterworld of some kind?


Sam: Nah. Little bastards are mostly just oppositional to mankind’s ability to grok the 

divine. Based on a preponderance of evidence, those assholes promote the idea 

that a guy in a fancy gown and a silly hat who keeps asking you for money 

probably does not speak for the greatest power in the universe.


Ralph: Daaaamn. I’m almost convinced, current career notwithstanding.


Sam: Stop saying “notwithstanding” it makes you sound like a pretentious 90s legal 

drama. 


Ralph: You just hate fun.


Sam: Correct.


Ralph: So, what happened?


Sam: Medic arrived ahead of schedule. Tried to jump in, but his unbending faith in the 

sanctity of life prevented me taking any action to claim the soul. Dude was a coin 

toss anyway, and that medic made heads. Now I have a backlog to monitor 

for-goddamned-ever.


Ralph: Sucks being a Reaper. I had one of those a couple millennia ago. I showed up 

three days late, long story, but when I arrived, the dude was walking around 

doing magic tricks for his friends, and letting them poke him in the stab holes. 

Caused quite the ruckus. I was about to make Herald too. Now I’m stuck here. 

Sorry pal. Looks like you’re in my boat now.


Sam: Nothing to do about it now. Just gotta follow the guy in my free time, and find a 

pretext. No one is so careful that we can’t find a way to punch their ticket. I’m a 

Reaper for love of Mike. I’ll get him soon enough.

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