Nate's profile

Characters: EDMUND REBECCA CHRISTOFF [SCENE] - The rear deck of the Lusitania, sister ship of the Titanic. Night, 1915. A bundle of waist-high crates is tied down in the middle of the stage by cargo netting, and the railing running around the edge of the deck is not much taller than the crates. Edmund, Rebecca, and Christoff enter, dressed in formal evening attire, laughing heartily. Edmund is tall and athletically built, yet his slicked back hair and fine tuxedo give him a snobbish quality. ...

“Aristotle”, I say to myself “What have you done?” I just wanted coffee Maybe a bagel too But you had to run into That jabber-jaw Plato And now, Like always He’s talking your ear off Going on about Metaphysics Like I care I am Aristotle And my friends are unexciting God, look at all these people out Athens is so crowded and strange On a Sunday Diogenes is on the stairs Sprawled Like a king or something Taking in the crowd I like this guy Diogenes because he’s An original Non-pliable Individua...

The team and I arrived on Earth this morning, landing on a small but once heavily populated island off the eastern coast of a major land mass. The goal of our mission was to try and discover, by studying artifacts and ruins left behind by the poor souls who once called this Hell home, the main cause of the collapse of Democracy, and how that then led to the total destruction of humanity on Earth. We were all a bit apprehensive about what we might find; whatever caused this catastrophe must ha...

You’re calling me an otter? That’s simply preposterous A duck, I could see, A platypus, maybe, But a otter? You’re out of your gourd I’ll prove it to you, one trait at a time And show that there’s no such resemblance Between me and an otter That “rat of the water” It sickens me thinking You thought it An otter, you see, is a creature Who’s completely covered in fur But I, by contrast Like a bald baby’s ass Am unabashadly Smooth Another difference I’d like to point out Are the touristy sight-s...

A bead of sweat trickled down the furrowed brow of Lieutenant General Jeremiah “Henry” Hendricks. He sat hunched, elbows resting on the table, as his laser gaze scanned the black and white tiles in front of him. His mind flashed with strategies – the Fork, the Pin, Skewers, Mating Attacks – what was next, eyes darting, what was next? He wiped away the sweat from his forehead, and felt his heart beating heavily through the bulging veins beneath his tight military haircut. On the other side of ...