Death Walks Into a Bar
CHARACTERS:
Death, you know…with the hood and all Tim, just a guy.
TIME:
The End.
PLACE:
An abandoned bar.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
At times, the dialogue contains “/” in it. This is to indicate that the next line should start after that “/”.
THE PLAY
It is dark. We can hear someone SHUFFLING ABOUT, GULPING, then SLAMMING A GLASS on a counter. We see the FLAME from a lighter, then the RED CHERRY from a cigarette. A DOOR OPENS and then LIGHTS UP. It’s an abandoned bar. At the counter sits TIM, a shabby, drunken man smoking a cigarette. He’s shielding his eyes from the light. In addition to the counter, there is a table with two chairs downstage. Near the door upstage stands DEATH, with the hood and scythe. DEATH has just flipped a switch. TIM, who is facing away, has not noticed DEATH yet.
TIM
Christ! Warn a guy. They’re closed, by the way. This whole place is closed. Once the rioting masses took to the streets, the whole place emptied out. Bartender wanted to get home safe so she gave me the key. Told me to close up. Everyone’s losing it.
TIM rolls his eyes.
TIM
I just think this whole thing’s blown out of proportion.
TIM turns around to address DEATH.
TIM
I’m Tim, by the way. Nice to meet you.
TIM turns back to his drink.
TIM
We’ve been through worse. It’ll get better. Always does.
TIM registers what he just saw and slowly turns back around.
TIM
Oh. It’s you. And you’re dressed up like that.
TIM grabs his glass and finishes it off.
TIM
The cartoons had it right. Who would have guessed…
TIM stubbs his cigarette out on the counter.
TIM
So, do you talk? Or do you just like to stand there all menacing?
DEATH
I can talk if you’d like.
TIM is shocked by the voice of DEATH.
TIM
I was expecting something lower and more masculine, not soft and feminine.
DEATH
I prefer to comfort.
TIM
So, I’m dead. Obviously.
DEATH
No.
TIM
Dying?
DEATH
More accurate.
SOUNDS of RIOTING are heard outside. TIM points towards the door.
TIM
Is that what kills me?
DEATH
I’m not to allowed say. It could alter the results.
TIM
Is there anything I could do?
DEATH
We could play a game.
TIM
Like chess or something?
DEATH
Chess, if you like.
TIM
And if I win, I get to live!? 4
DEATH shakes her head “no”.
DEATH
Just to pass the time.
TIM crosses down to the table and sits.
TIM
There’s nothing I can do?
DEATH
No. Not really.
TIM thinks for a second.
TIM
Then I’ll do what I want to.
TIM digs into his pocket and pulls out a tiny squirt bottle of hand sanitizer.
DEATH
What are you doing?
TIM
I’ve always wanted to know what 60% alcohol tasted like.
TIM gets ready to squirt the hand sanitizer in his mouth.
DEATH
What if that is what kills you?
TIM pauses. He puts the bottle of hand sanitizer down.
TIM
I thought you said you weren’t allowed to tell me what kills me?
DEATH
Oh, it’s not what kills you. I just expected more caution.
DEATH sits down at the table with TIM.
DEATH
You are not kind to your liver.
They sit in silence for a second. TIM looks over at DEATH.
TIM
So…what’s under that hood?
DEATH
A face.
TIM
But is it like a skull face or something?
DEATH
It is a human woman’s face.
TIM
Oh. Nice.
Pause.
DEATH
Why would it be a skull face?
TIM
Everything else in your appearance matches the aesthetic.
DEATH
But skulls are creepy. The Nazis had skulls on their uniforms. I told you that I want to comfort people. I’ve never met anyone who said “I really wish you had a skull!”
TIM
Okay! I get the point. Sorry.
Pause.
TIM
Can I see it?
DEATH
What?
TIM
Your face. It might calm me down a bit.
DEATH pulls her hood back. She is beautiful. TIM is shocked.
TIM
Oh God.
DEATH
I thought you said this would calm you?
TIM
I-It’s-It’s just that you look like someone.
DEATH
Everyone looks like someone.
TIM
Yeah, but you look like someone I know. An ex.
DEATH pulls out a tiny notebook and flips through it.
DEATH
Sarah?
TIM
Yeah. Sarah.
DEATH
I suppose I can see it. Different noses, though. But /same eyes.
TIM
Same eyes. I love those eyes. Last time I saw them was /June 7th, 2012.
DEATH
June 7th, 2012. When she left you.
TIM
Yeah. That would be when. That little book, does it tell you why she left? She never explained herself to me.
DEATH
Does it matter?
TIM
No, I suppose not.
TIM gets up and walks back over to the counter. He reaches behind it and pulls a bottle out. He pours himself another glass. He looks at the glass. Looks at the bottle. Drinks from the bottle.
TIM
Do you drink?
DEATH
No.
TIM
Would you like to?
DEATH
I don’t think I can. Granted, I’ve never tried.
TIM walks over to the table with his bottle and the glass. He pushes the drink into DEATH’s hand.
TIM
Give it a go.
DEATH takes a drink. She starts coughing.
DEATH
Is this what it feels like to taste disgust?
TIM
Yeah.
DEATH
Why do you drink this?
TIM
You stop tasting it if you drink enough.
DEATH
Well, I’ll refrain from drinking anymore.
DEATH puts the glass down.
TIM
So how does the whole dying thing work?
DEATH
That’s a complicated question. Do you mean the process of actually dying or do you mean is there an afterlife?
TIM
There’s no afterlife. I know that.
DEATH
If you insist.
TIM
Wait, is there?
DEATH
Not allowed to say. I can tell you about the process of dying, though.
TIM
Lay it on me. Will my life flash before my eyes?
DEATH
A moment will.
TIM
What constitutes a moment?
DEATH
Anything from a second to an hour. It varies.
TIM
That hardly seems fair.
DEATH
If any of this were fair, they wouldn’t need me to bring people through it.
TIM
And what happens after the moment?
DEATH
Then you fade out.
TIM
What does that mean?
DEATH
You keep feeling like there’s less of you until there’s none of you.
TIM
Does it hurt?
DEATH looks down at the ground.
TIM
Death, does it hurt?
DEATH In your case, it will.
TIM
What is my case?
DEATH considers for a moment.
DEATH
It’s close enough that it doesn’t matter anymore. Your appendix is about to burst. All the rioting outside and the lack of people in here to help you means that there’s no way help can get here to save you. You’re going to spend the next 24 hours in delirium from the pain…and then you’re going to die.
TIM starts smiling.
TIM
That’s it? I can beat that. I’ll just go run to find help.
TIM gets up.
DEATH
Be my guest.
TIM starts running for the door. He doubles over in pain right before he gets to it.
DEATH
I wouldn’t have told you if you had the time to change it.
TIM turns towards DEATH, leaning up against the door. He slides down until he’s on the ground. DEATH walks over, scythe in hand.
TIM
Even with you telling me, it hurts more than I thought.
DEATH
I’m sorry, Tim.
TIM
What will my moment be?
DEATH
We’ll find out together.
TIM starts crying.
TIM
I don’t want to die! Please! Please, find somebody else.
DEATH
It has to be you.
TIM
This was preventable!
DEATH
Most are.
DEATH begins to raise her scythe.
TIM
Wait! One more question! Is this really it? Is the world ending?
DEATH
I don’t know. Everything’s too uncertain.
DEATH swings the scythe down. BLACKOUT. SPOTLIGHTS on DEATH and TIM on opposite sides of the stage. TIM seems weirdly peaceful now.
TIM
Oh! I know this! It’s /the first date!
DEATH
The first date. Where you met Sarah.
TIM
Some friends had set us up on a blind date. They thought that we’d be perfect for each other.
DEATH
And you were for a little while.
TIM
Three years, to be exact.
DEATH
Two years and 11 months to be even more exact. You brought her /flowers.
TIM
I brought her flowers. And I /took her dancing.
DEATH
You took her dancing.
DEATH take the robe off to reveal a beautiful, shimmering dress. DEATH has now become SARAH.
DEATH/ SARAH
Are you Tim?
TIM
Yeah. I take it you’re Sarah.
DEATH/SARAH
So, dancing? Bold move. Most guys would be afraid of looking stupid.
TIM
Most guys can’t dance like me.
DEATH/ SARAH laughs.
DEATH/ SARAH
Cocky. I like that.
TIM extends a hand.
TIM
Shall we?
They both dance in place as if they are dancing with each other. Classy music is playing.
DEATH/ SARAH
You were not kidding.
TIM smirks.
TIM
No, I’m a very serious man.
As they dance, they get closer to each other. Eventually, they swirl into each other, now actually dancing together.
TIM
Sarah?
DEATH/ SARAH
Yes?
TIM
I think we make a good dance team.
TIM spins DEATH/ SARAH away. He is alone again, beaming.
TIM
And that was when I knew I loved her.
TIM’s SPOTLIGHT FADES OUT SLOWLY.
DEATH
Goodbye, Tim.
DEATH’s SPOTLIGHT FADES OUT SLOWLY. END OF PLAY.
About the Author
NB Nightingale is a writer of prose and plays currently studying in Emerson College’s Fiction MFA program. She’s been published by Apricity Magazine before with her play “Bad News and Bird Shit”, though she used a different name and gender at the time. Her short story, “Neon Jesus Over 7th Street”, can be found in the Spring 2022 edition of Stork Magazine.