The play is set in
a shopping mall, on a sunny Saturday afternoon in October. A man sitting behind the wheel of his
cherished 1999 Toyota Rav4 is made suddenly aware of a huge, newish maroon van
behind him, six inches from his bumper.
The looming van is being driven by monstrously heavy woman, her meek, wide-eyed
subteen daughter in the seat beside her.
Unable to bear the heavy-breathing of the woman’s juggernaut van so
close to his back bumper, he stops his Rav4, gets out of the car and goes back to
talk to the too-imminent woman.
Woman (lowering her window, furious): Get out of my way!
Rav-man (with elaborate, enraged calm): What’s the
matter with you, hugging
my back bumper like that?
Woman (more furious than ever): Get out of my
way!!
Rav-man (also furious): Stay off my bumper!!
Woman (apoplectic): Move your stupid old car!
Rav-man (outraged): Stupid old car??
This is a wonderful car, I love
this car. It has some
character—unlike that glossy pointless piece of crap you’re driving!
Woman (angrier still): I have a child in the
car.
Rav-man (suddenly perplexed): So?
Woman (with conviction): I don’t want her hearing language like that!
Rav-man: Like what? Crap?
Woman (almost hysterical): I’m going to call someone!
[Suddenly two glowing,
diaphanous angels appear, floating just above the two stopped cars]
Angel One (gently): No need to. We heard
your angers and we are
here to help.
Angel Two (also gently): That’s right. We are here
to calm you down.
Rav-man (sarcastically): Good luck.
Angel One: (calmly) Angels don’t need luck.
Rav-man (quietly): I was thinking more of her and me. Can’t you recognize a prayer when you hear one?
[The angels giggle
together]
(curtain)
