For this one you must get revenge on a scornful classmate, goading them into a lethal game. Matt's note: This one is sourced from a Menenius's speech in Act 2, Scene 1 of Coriolanus. The original text follows this monologue.
EDGE (any gender, late teens)
I'm not kidding at all. It's called Car Surfing. And I think you know how it works.
I'd like to settle something once and for all. Before we graduate. You see, I've heard you outside the dance studio during lunch time. That little game you've started? Jock Talk?
"Duhhhr... I tink before I need a nap. It's tiring on my brain ta be chuckin' balls and slammin' inta people."
And you're so much better because? Oh right, you're a DANCER. You're an ARTIST. That makes you-- what? "Edgy?" That makes you smarter?
Let's see... last time I checked...
You're getting extra tutoring in the library so you can get a passing grade in chemistry.
I've never seen you in AP Calc because... right... you opted out of Math after basic algebra.
And geography... you can name all these big shot artists in Montreal. And then you say that's why you're planning to visit the country of FRANCE???
So... we're going to do something a little different. You won't be dancing and I won't be chucking balls. We're going to take turns getting on top of a car. And the car is going to move. And you've got to stay on top longer than me. And the car really might go kinda fast. But it should be easy enough for a smart person to figure out. And it sounds like something an edgy person would want to do.
How about you go first? Show me what I'm missing.
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes. If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"
You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You
are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you
wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a
cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller;
and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a
second day of audience. When you are hearing a
matter between party and party, if you chance to be
pinched with the colic, you make faces like
mummers; set up the bloody flag against all
patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot,
dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled
by your hearing: all the peace you make in their
cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are
a pair of strange ones.