Cookies. The Cookies.
*A balding, middle aged man sits at the dinner table with his wife in a rundown kitchen. His wife sits at the table eating out of a bowl filled with dull, brown paste. Her face is occupied with dissatisfaction and disgust. She circles the bowl with her wooden spoon, staring down and avoiding eye contact with her husband. Her husband is not wearing any trousers, yet is clad in fancy business attire from the waist up. His wife however is still dressed in her bathrobe and pyjamas despite the time of night. The uncomfortable silence is heightened by the constant dripping of the tap into the dirty sink. He takes in a deep breath before letting out an almost harrowing sigh*
Husband: I believe you didn’t hear me.
Wife: I believe that –
Husband: Shhh now…we don’t want to confuse matters. Tell me, dear, have you prepared for the test?
*The wife makes eye contact with her husband for the first time. She clenches at her wooden spoon and quickly gulps down a piece of the brown paste that sat lingering in her mouth for quite some time.*
Wife: I didn’t think there would be a test…
*Her husband pierces her with a haunting gaze across the table for a few seconds. He slowly licks his lips and runs a calloused hand through the remaining pieces of hair on his head.*
Husband: That’s all right dear. Nobody expected you to be prepared.
*The wife’s face becomes washed over with relief; she resumes eating the remains of the paste while hunched over the edge of the table. The Husband sits back and folds his arms.*
Husband: Nobody except for…Kenneth.
*The warm relief is soon shattered as the wife drops the spoon all together and sits back.*
*The Husband nods with a face of terrifying delight*
Wife: You promised you wouldn’t do this again!
Husband: I lied! Besides, the party ceases to exist when there’s no KENNETH!
*The Husband is able to reach towards the lower cupboard of the kitchen from his chair and pulls out an old puppet. The puppet resembles a small boy, wearing shorts, a striped shirt and a propeller hat. Kenneth’s face is stylized in an exaggerated fashion, with large eyes and a gaping smile. The Husband proceeds to control Kenneth and gives him his own voice.*
Kenneth: Well hello there, Mother. Haven’t seen you since the third time you were at hospital!
Wife: No! Please!
*The Wife blenches at the sight of Kenneth and begins to sob. The Husband faces Kenneth.*
Husband: D’aww, she doesn’t appreciate you as much as I do, Kenneth.
Kenneth: I love you, Father. Even though you are unable to procreate, I believe that you would be the greatest parent ever. That’s why I drew you a picture!
*The Husband hands himself a crudely drawn picture of his profile with the words “BEST FATHER EVOR” positioned above his head*
Husband: Calm down now, Kenneth. You give me too much praise.
Kenneth: And you’re so good looking too! Much more attractive that the supposedly handsome postman that doesn’t have to visit every day. Good thing you pushed him down those stairs.
Wife: NO! You didn’t have to do that!
Husband: BUT I DID. It’s what had to be done.
Wife: You’re a monster.
Husband: No, I am Howard Usband. And you, Willow Ife have broken our sacred promise of devoting each and every second to each other for the rest of time. How dare you disappoint your Husband.
Willow: You’re not even my Husband! You’re just my drug dealer that went crazy.
Howard: Oh, am I? Then how come you haven’t studied for the test?!
Kenneth: She hasn’t studied for the test!?
Howard: It’s true Kenneth! Can you believe it?
Kenneth: No, Father! What ever shall we do?
Howard: Rules are rules and I believe we shall have to test her anyway!
*Willow throws her spoon down in protest*
Howard: What was the first commercial cookie in the U.S and when was it introduced?
*Willow breaks down into tears and sobs uncontrollably*
Willow: I don’t know! I don’t know!
Kenneth: Ooh! I know, Father! It was the Animal Cracker, introduced in 1902.
Howard: Brilliant, point one for Howard!
Howard: In 1989, what American state declared the “Bizcochito” it’s official state cookie?
Howard: WRONG. WRONG. BZZZZZ. BZZZZZZ. BZZZZZZZ.
Kenneth: Har har har! Silly mother! It was New Mexico!
Howard: Good Lord, you’re so right, Kenneth. Have a medal! Have ALL THE MEDALS!
Kenneth: What are the medals?
Howard: Cookies of course! ALL OF THE COOKIES!
*Howard rips open the other remaining cupboards spilling a calamity of pouring cookies onto the kitchen floor. Willow watches on in horror as Kenneth and Howard giggle to themselves.*
Willow: No! How will I get my next fix?
Howard: YOU SHOULD HAVE STUDIED FOR THE TEST!
Kenneth: Har har har har!
Howard: Indeed, Kenneth. HAR INDEED!
*Howard rips off the remaining business attire and nakedly rolls around on the floor in the piles of cookies with his faux son. Willow runs out of the kitchen screaming with her head buried in her hands. The lights dim, yet the giggling of Kenneth and Howard remain in the darkness*