Play # 34: The Key

The play is set in the apartment of an average man—that is to say, a part-time philosopher.  There are bookshelves, tables, comfortable chairs.  Just before the play begins, this Average Man has a friend come to call—another part-time philosopher.

Average Man 1 (the host):  You must excuse me, I’m very agitated at the moment

Average Man 2 (the visitor):  About what?

Host:  About (he holds up an ornate key) this key!

Visitor (cheerfully):  Well, you don’t appear to have lost it!

Host (ruefully):  No.  No, but I can’t make it open what it’s supposed to open.

Visitor:  And what’s that?

Host (patiently):  You don’t understand.  This (he holds it up) is the Key to Everything! 

Visitor (impressed):  So go ahead and open something.  A door maybe?  A drawer? Or wind one of your clocks!

Host (suddenly despondent): You don’t see what I mean.

Visitor: Then explain it to me.

Host: This is the Key to Everything, not just to anything.

Visitor (impressed):  So it unlocks the meaning of all meaning, of
all property, all probity, all conundra ? It makes splicable the inexplicable? It looses the bonds of the goddess of transcendence and sees her shining robes fall thinly to the ground?

Host (impatient): Yes, yes.

Visitor:  So what’s the problem?

Host (enraged):  I don’t know where the goddam keyhole is!!