Goddess at the Shore
Lights up. FAMILY picnics, center stage. Cries of gulls, waves smashing ashore. Enter, stage left, at speed, a splendid foxy blur: the GODDESS: All hail! Hail my new perfume! DAUGHTER: Yuck! What did she roll in? Good grief! YOUNGEST: Get away, dog! You reek! You reek! GODDESS: Bow before me in my radiance. MOTHER: Ugh! She found a dead fish or seal. DAUGHTER: No way I’ll ride home with that stink! GODDESS: I bring you this powerful and unique scent as a portent of my strength– FATHER: Get her to go in the ocean. YOUNGEST throws sticks offstage. GODDESS pursues. MOTHER: She won’t dry with the salt water plus it will make her scratch. Stop throwing things. GODDESS returns. FAMILY stands, meek. Beat. DAUGHTER: I refuse to ride for two hours with that rank dog. YOUNGEST: We can’t leave her! DAUGHTER: Everything will smell like rotten– MOTHER: Yes. I’m sorry. FAMILY packs picnic, exits stage right. GODDESS remains. GODDESS: Subdued before my majesty, my followers, at last, bow before me. YOUNGEST: (From offstage) Come on, Butterscotch! GODDESS exits stage right, barking. CURTAIN