Monologue: The Last Word

(Open on a man sitting on a bench reading a newspaper)
Heh heh heh. Get this shit. “Small-town lawyer appointed to President's National Legal Board. Attorney vows to bring sensibility to government”, (turns page) “Firefighter receives medal for valiant rescue of woman from South Side inferno.” (looks further down page) “Local Girl Wins Talent Search: Filming slated for 2012” (puts paper aside) What a waste of newsprint. (addresses audience as if passerby) Am I right? I mean , do you really wanna wake up in the morning with your cup of decaf and your Egg McMuffin and read this? Just like you woke up yesterday and read the same crap, and tomorrow you'll wake up and find the exact same paper on your doorstep. 'Course not, man, you expect something better. You read the paper 'cause it's the daily diary of history and you don't wanna read all about how she's always got a crush on this guy in biology class, do ya? NO, you wanna read about how she got to second base in the back of her Dad's Cadillac. You wanna read about how she's terrified of askin' her father for a ride to the abortion clinic, huh? You wanna skip that basket of bread and butter and go right for the veal scallopini. Am I right? 'Course I'm right, you know that.
(holds up paper)
Now these people, they're the crush. They think they're making a difference, but they're nothing but a drop of water in the bucket of history. Just like a high school crush. You know what a crush is, don't you? It's a whole lot of time and energy and nervous posturing that results in a brush of hands in the hallway of life. Just like these people. They're nothing. (opens up paper again) Look at these stories. The lawyer out to shake the system. Great, another blood-sucking shyster with “good” intentions goes out to take on Big Brother. You know what they say about good intentions, right? He's gonna end up a patch of asphalt on Highway 666. Ans how many of the government know-it-alls started out the same way as Mr. Smith here? All of 'em, every single last one of them. Once he gets a taste of the power and knows how the game is played, he's gonna take off the sheepskin, too. A recipe for disaster, that's what you got on the front page of your morning news. What a way to start your day. You deserve something better.
(turns page)
Here's that fireman. Hey, you ever get a medal for just doin' your job? 'Course not. You slave away 40 hours a week doin' what's expected of you. (points and talks directly to people in audience) When's the last time you got a certificate for landing that million-dollar deal? Does the mayor come to your house and shake your hand 'cause you did that oil change on Mrs. Jones' car? Or how about a simple thank you for bringing out that guy's coffee hot with two creams like he asked? Nope. Doesn't happen. Am I right? Now, what's a fireman do? He fights fires and saves people, right? Guy does something in his line of work that's right for once and now we gotta stop the city and hold a ticker-tape parade just 'cause he didn't screw up? Is that justice? But you're gonna say, “Oh, but he saved a life. That's important!” Lemme bring something else to mind: What if that lady he saved is a crackwhore and her freebasing started the whole blaze in the first place? Great, now we got a guy not screwing up at work and all he does is keep a drug addict and arsonist back on the street ready to torch another building. And what does the city do? They pat him on the back, give him a hunk of gold, and tell him to do it all over again. It's not right and it's not fair. Not fair to you, am I right?
(looks back at paper)
Oh, the talent search. Don't get me started on this one. Hollywood is such a cesspool nowadays. All TV and movies do anymore is turn kids' minds to goo and make them beat up their best friend. Do we really gotta exploit more chances to raise brain-dead children who kill each other? It's mindless prattle begetting mindless prattle. “Oh, but she worked so hard to fulfill her dream! That's important!” Yeah, she worked real hard. She probably spent lots of time running in place in her room in front of the mirror, eating only a salad a week just to get that “perfect look”. She probably spent lots of her Daddy's money getting cheek lifts and tummy tucks and a boob job just to get that “perfect look”. Any of us got that “perfect look”? 'Course not. We don't got the time or money. We accept our overgrown stomachs, our flabby arms, our imperfect nose. And what do they do with her? They congratulate her self-inflicted torture and frivilous waste of money with a pedestal to present us with another idiotic example of values we cannot attain. She's not changing history. She's killing herself and telling our kids to kill each other. Should we stick her right in the middle of our Monday morning seach for the meaning of life? Please. Now she's becoming a waste of your time and your money. (puts paper aside)
Now I want you all to stop me if I'm not making a lick of sense, but are these the people you want going out to change the world? 'Course not, 'cause they're the wrong people. You know what their problem is? They're delusional people with too much going for them and they haven't a clue how to deal with it. They're the “lucky” ones, born with a high IQ, money to burn, an exciting life, great hair, perfect teeth, so-called talent. They're elitist scum and they think they got what it takes to tell us what to do. Friends, I've read history and I know the ones who actually make a difference are the ones who start off with nothing and then learn the secrets which they share with everyone. That's were true history comes from: Average people who rise up and speak the truth. Martin Luther, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Paine, Rush Limbaugh. Average everyday people. Like us. (points to audience) Like you. Like you. Like me. I got nothing. I'm an ugly son-of-a-bitch with no job, no money, no home, no girl, nothing. But I've been learning. I'm at the library readin' and studin' every day, and I know the truth. And I look around me and all I see are lies, dirty stinking greasy-palmed lies. Am I right? 'Course I'm right. And I'm sick of it. Somebody's got to do something to save the world from the monotonous parade of dangerous deception, and it's up to us, us regular people, to stand up and do something about it. We gotta turn the tide of history.
That's why I'm here today. I'm sittin' on this platform, waiting for the 5:15 because my destiny, our destiny awaits on that train. Today is the beginning of a new era of history, and we're all at the ground zero of a new way of life. No more will we be spoon-fed the lies of society for the sake of conformity. Today our minds will be open to the truth, and everyone will understand our crusade and the news everywhere will ring of a new way of thinking, a new way of life: How things should be. And it's all gonna happen on this train. With us. With you. With me. (pulls out pistol) With this. 'Cause you know what the biggest problem in this world is, huh? Overpopulation, am I right? We got 6 billion people squeezed on this tiny planet and there's so much crap going on. People are starving, everyone's fighting wars, there's not enough food, the rich bastards hoard all the money, the oxygen's getting polluted by too many cars, you can't walk down the street without being mugged or attacked, babies can't dream of becoming President. Our world is becoming hell. And who are the people in the driver's seat? (holds up paper) These crazy pompous asses! They think just 'cause they're so damn special they can write the rules for the rest of us. Today no more. Today we cast off the unnecessary flotsam. Today we thin the herd of the sickly and unjust. Today we make the world a better place. Everyone gets a piece of the pie. Everyone gets their moment to shine. The rules will be rewritten for us by us. We are the future. The future is now.
(looks off Stage Right) Right on time. (puts gun back into pocket) I'm so excited I could burst. Finally we reclaim our birthright. And it all starts with me. (walks forward as if boarding train, but pauses, addresses crowd) See you on the other side.
(holds onto pole on subway train. A couple beats, then he pulls out the gun and holds it barrel pointing to the ceiling)
All right, everyone! Today we're gonna give the world something to read about!
(Gunshots sound)

End.