Hello. My name is Jake. With no jobs to spare for liberal arts graduates back in the homeland, I've packed up and moved to the South Korean city of Daejeon to teach English. What follows are the often profane ramblings of a disgruntled ex-pat.
It’s been a long time since I’ve written a blog post. There are a number of reasons, the biggest being that I’m really lazy and those shitty cartoons take a lot longer than you’d think. But this blog was started to document my time in South Korea, and that time has been up since March. A lot has happened since then, but I’m not going to try to fill you in. I’ve got one last story to tell, and it leads right into my current situation.
Last year around this time, I was in the thick of applying for graduate school. With the Korea money coming in thick and fast, I decided to burn as much of it as possible by going for an MFA in screenwriting. I applied to a number of schools, but this story starts when I was offered an interview with Northwestern’s Writing for the Screen and Stage program.
It was my number one choice, so I was naturally elated that they wanted to talk to me. The interview itself was an unqualified disaster from the get go, when my webcam refused to let the professors see me, even though I’d ditched my balding sasquatch look in favor of shaving and combing my hair and wearing pants. A few really terrible attempts at humor later, my interview was over, and I’d thrown away the chance to go deep into debt in pursuit of my dream of being a soulless Hollywood hack.
Five days later, I was waiting at a bus stop, coming home from a nerd-out session at my buddy’s apartment. Bus stops in Korea almost all have a built-in wi-fi hotspot, because hanging out with your laptop at the bus stop is the cool and safe thing to do, so I checked my email on my iPod and saw I had one from a Northwestern address.
“Five days,” I thought. “They must have really hated me to reject me that fast.” Resigned, I opened the email and started to read.
“Dear Jake,” it said. “I am excited to offer you a spot in our 2012 MFA in Writing for Screen and Stage program.”
“Oh well,” I thought. “That’s that, back to the drawing boar- WHAT?!”
I read it again. And again. My heart started to race, and I felt some weird kind of energy boiling up inside me with nowhere to go. I had two options standing at this crowded bus stop surrounded by stoic Korean men: primal scream, or some intense physical reaction of equal energy expenditure. I chose the latter, and took off sprinting for about a block before jumping up and down like an American who’s just heard Osama Bin Laden died, much to the bemusement of my Korean bus-waiting audience.
I am going to get this bit of Korean profanity into the American lexicon if it kills me.
And now, after a spring working to set up Old Lady Comic Con at a sewing shop back home and a summer on the East Coast leading discussions and UN simulation with the young international policy leaders of tomorrow because that’s something I’m totally qualified to do, I’m here in Evanston. Living the dream of spending all my money and working until my brain runs out of think.
This might very well be the last post here at English Major Away. If it is, I thank you for your readership and support. And in the near future, I’ll be setting up my professional website. I encourage you to check out www.jakedisch.com. Or www.jakedisch.xxx, whichever I ultimately decide upon.
‘Til next time, dear readers?
What, you thought I was kidding about Old Lady Comic Con?
Gaze into the ceaseless horror of the most popular exhibit at the sewing convention.
I’ve been thinking about what to write about my adventures through Cambodia and Kuala Lumpur with my friend Kevin for about two weeks now. I could tell you all about the Khmer Rouge sites, how amazing Angkor Wat is, and why Kuala Lumpur is one of the coolest cities I’ve ever visited. But nobody comes to this website to read my ruminations about tragedy-as-tourism and why the world’s greatest temple complex needs more trash cans. Let’s face it: you’re here for the profanity and crudely-drawn cartoons. And I, dear reader, shall provide.
After our time in Siem Reap, touring Angkor Wat with a delightful bout of explosive diarrhea in tow (not recommended) and being boarded by drink pirates in a Vietnamese floating village (a kid leapt onto our boat brandishing a cooler full of refreshments, then leapt back to his dad’s boat when he saw we had water already), we made our way down to Shihanoukville. Advertised as a beautiful coastal town with pristine beaches, it turned out to be a gaping maw that wanted only to feast on our happiness.
The first sign that something was wrong came while I was on the roof of our guest house on the first day, drinking a beer and finishing up a book. One of the managers came over to my table and struck up a conversation. He pointed over the town at an island rising up out of the distance and said, “See that island?”
“Yes,” I replied, innocently enjoying the view.
“It’s owned by a Russian pedophile gangster.”
A beautiful sunset over the Russian pedo-island.
I choked a little on my afternoon lager as the manager continued.
“That beach you swam at today is owned by the same guy.”
“Excuse me,” I said, pushing my chair away from the table and standing. “I have to go shower again and also throw up.”
But the Shihanoukville fun really started the next day when Kevin and I endeavored to rent scooters and and explore the town and surrounding countryside. Having done this in Pai during my Thailand excursion, I was reasonably confident that I wouldn’t kill myself.
We set out from a guest house on the other side of town, heading for some waterfalls about five miles out of Shihanoukville. We must have been almost there when my bike stopped working. I didn’t realize it at first because the engine didn’t cut; the bike just stopped accelerating and I drifted to the side of the road. Kevin, in an effort to pull up behind me, rear-ended my bike and tipped his. After it was decided that he was okay, we checked out my bike.
Neither of us are what you would call “gearheads”, so we decided it would be for the best to contact the guest house and have them come out and diagnose the problem. Kevin set out in search of a phone and returned a few minutes later having had no success.
“What about the other way?” I asked.
“I’ll try,” he said, and zoomed off down the highway, leaving me in a cloud of dust.
He was gone for over an hour, during which time I became well-acquainted with my surroundings. There was some sort of government building nearby with a single shirtless guard in a guardhouse, eyeing me with a mixture of suspicion and deep amusement. An iguana hung out in some weeds by the side of the path I’d parked on, probably chuckling inwardly at my misfortune. Some trash drifted lazily into the ditch behind me, catching my eye. What looked like a hundred dollar bill covered in mud turned out to be a bad counterfeit printed on computer paper and covered in what seemed to be shit. I instantly regretted touching it.
When Kevin returned some time later, a young Cambodian man was following him on a black bike. They pulled up onto my path and the man approached my derelict scooter. He looked at the ignition, then looked around at the ground, then looked and me and said, “Um.”
At this point it was clear that this guy didn’t speak much in the way of English (I should clarify that almost all Cambodians working in the tourism industry have an excellent grasp of English; this guy was something of an anomaly). I gave him the key. He started the bike and tried to accelerate, with the same results I’d had. Then he switched it off, sat upon it thoughtfully, and wordlessly lit up a cigarette.
We watched him smoke for a few minutes, then the man stood up, pointed to the seat of my scooter, and said, “Sit.”
“But it doesn’t work,” I said.
“Sit,” the man repeated. Then he pointed across the highway. “Go over street.”
I looked at Kevin, who shrugged. “The bike doesn’t work,” I repeated. “Why should I do this?”
The man went to his bike, turned it around, and pushed it across the highway as a demonstration.
“What does he think is going to happen over there?” I asked Kevin. “Is there a magic scooter-regenerating force field on that side of the road?”
“Just follow him and see what happens,” Kevin replied.
I shoved my bike over the highway, where the man again indicated for me to get on. Going with it now, I did so. The man started his bike and placed one boot on the footrest of mine.
“You steer,” he said.
“Oh. Oh. No. No, this is not the best idea,” is what I probably should have said. Instead I said, “Okay.”
The man then proceeded to kick me down the highway at about 50 kilometers per hour. I know because my speedometer worked, even if nothing else did. He would put his boot on my bike, accelerate, then let me go until I started to slow down too much to keep up with the semis and pickup trucks populating the road, then he would give me another boost.
About two-thirds of the way there we hit a huge downward slope and he let me coast the whole way. I did so gladly, relishing the freedom and speed that I had expected to get all day when I first rented the bike. But it ended almost as soon as it finished, and the man kicked me the rest of the way back to the guest house.
I pulled into the parking lot, dismounted, and turned around looking for Kevin. He was nowhere to be seen. I waited about ten minutes before he finally showed up, pushing his bike down the busiest road in Shihanoukville with no one to kick him.
“What happened?” I asked.
“My bike broke down. I hit a bump on that fucking hill, and the engine just stopped.” The manager of the guest house came out to offer us a set of keys to a different bike. “No,” Kevin said. “You keep your deathtrap bikes. We are done with this.”
We finished the day strolling around town and went to sleep that night looking forward to what was sure to be the highlight of our time in Shihanoukville: snorkeling off the many tiny islands dotting the coast.
We boarded a rickety boat the next morning and set off for our first island. As we approached, Kevin and I liberally applied sunscreen we’d bought at a Korean market. We are both very pasty men, clearly not meant for even a partly cloudy day of equatorial sunshine. When we arrived at our first snorkeling spot, our guide gave us a brief warning.
“If you see a rock you want to stand on, that’s okay. But make sure there are no urchins where you want to stand. You will see a few sea urchins, so just be careful not to touch them.”
Seemed fair.
The expectation.
Once we were actually in the water, however, and the floor of the reef came gradually into view as we reached the shallows, the horrible truth was revealed: IT WAS ALL URCHINS.
The reality. Seriously, fuck the ocean.
Everywhere I looked there was nothing but urchins. Clinging to the rocks, the coral, each other, all of them at least the size of a cantaloupe. As I swam, I became aware of a noise in my ears, a sort of snick-snicker-snikt sound that almost sounded like a whisper. And I realized: They were talking to each other. Clicking their horrible needles together in some twisted Morse code, plotting which one would leap from the floor of the reef and impale me in the chest.
Fuck this, I thought to myself. Back to the boat.
The other tourists, Kevin, and I navigated the treacherous urchin sea for several hours that day, and each time we came out of the water we applied still more sunscreen. We should have been absolutely caked with the stuff. So imagine our surprise when Kevin and I arrived back at the hostel and this happened:
Both of us were absolutely burned to a crisp. The rest of our trip would sound something like this:
“Hey, Jake! Ahhh, ow! What do you want to shit! Do today?”
“I dunno, argh! I was thinking maybe we could fuck! I mean, go to the ow! Museum.”
“As long as I rarg! Don’t have to let anyone touch my back.”
And that, dear readers, is why I am planning to murder Korean sunscreen.
That’s what my co-worker said to me yesterday afternoon just after lunch. She followed that up with “Kim Jong Il has died!” She said it so cheerfully that my initial reaction was, “Oh okay.” Followed quickly by, “Wait, what?” I immediately went to my computer, Lincoln, to scrounge up all the breaking details. Naturally, my computer froze.
Lincoln also sucks at rendering the bird.
The reaction here in South Korea has been muted. My vice principal turned on the radio in our office for awhile after lunch yesterday, but other than that nobody’s been talking about it. My Korean tutor, whom I met with yesterday, told me it was the same at her school.
Kim Jong Il was a man who stood at the head of a regime responsible for the deaths of a great many South Koreans over the years, most recently on Yeonpyeong Island last November. Contrast this with the collective national joygasm that happened in America when Osama Bin Laden was killed, and you may start to wonder what the South Koreans know that we don’t.
And it was so.
Maybe its that South Korea has seen this before. When Kim Il Sung died in 1994, his now infamous son took over to rule in his place. It took three years for Kim Jong Il to fully consolidate his power, but even through poverty and famine the government kept its course. I haven’t heard my co-workers or friends utter much about reunification in the last 28 or so hours since Kim’s death was announced. They’ve been through this before, and they know how it ends. We can always hope that this time will be different. This news is still fresh, but South Korea seems to be going about business as usual for now.
I seem to be more interested in talking about it than my co-workers. Maybe it’s just the media hound in me. When bin Laden was killed, the news and celebrations were all over every news outlet. I wanted to talk about it, and my American friends obliged me. Now, though, I want to hear Koreans’ perspectives on what the future holds, but as my Korean tutor told me last night, “They don’t seem to mind much.”
It’s just another example of the culture gap. My country’s greatest enemy dies and college kids riot in the streets. South Korea’s constant antagonist buys the farm, they quietly listen to the radio for a few moments and go back to work. I’m starting to think we Americans may be a little over dramatic.
One of the first things a teacher of the Korean language will teach their bright-eyed new student is how to say the number eighteen. This is not because it’s a terribly important number to know. In real life I hardly ever have to count above ten, which is a fact I tried telling every math teacher I’ve had since I was six. No, a foreigner in Korea must know the number eighteen because it’s useful to be aware of the care that must be taken in pronouncing it correctly: Shib pahl. You see, if you say it wrong, specifically if you say shi pahl, people will think you’re saying something rather rude.
Translation: Is it “fuck”?
Now rest assured, the above scenario did not actually play out in my classroom. Only just about every time I have tried to count above seventeen in Korean. I am considerably luckier than a friend of mine, who found out in a class full of twelve year old girls just how close “Japanese self-defense force” (jawidae) is to “masturbation force” (jawigun).
Just use your imagination, perv.
And then there are the homonyms. For instance, igoseun eum-o iyeyo can mean one of two things. It can mean, “This is a conspiracy,” which might be something you would want to know if you were detained in Incheon International Airport because your beard was too bushy. It can also mean, “This is pubic hair,” in which case the airport security might assume you have glued said lower body hair to your face to supplement your undoubtedly pathetic, patchy attempt at a neckbeard.
Of course, this sort of thing is a pitfall of learning just about any language. A student in one of my classes last year stumbled on the spelling of the word “fishing’” and told the class all about how he spent his summer “fisting at the lake”. But when it comes to Korean, I seem to tumble into this one more often than I really should. For example, in my very first lesson with my new Korean language tutor, I attempted to write a sentence that begins with the Korean ‘I’: cheo neun. I instead managed to write cheo nyeon. So instead of saying “I am American,” I told my now shocked teacher that in fact, “That bitch is American.”
And the writing of it is really the least of my problems. As English speakers, we tend to run our syllables together. That’s just how we talk. Do that in Korean, and you’ll get yourself slapped right quick. Take a different variation on the same problematic word: Geu nyeo neun nae chingu iyaeyo means, “She is my friend.” A lovely way to introduce someone to your Korean pals. Misplace one letter on a single syllable, however: Geu nyeon eun nae chingu iyaeyo, and you will gleefully let your native-speaking friends know that “This bitch is my friend.”
Let's play "Spot the Misplaced Consonant Character!"
When you sign up to learn a language, people talk about expanding your horizons, learning about a different culture, and making friends from around the world. What nobody ever tells you is that you’ll subject yourself to endless humiliation and pants-loading embarrassment every time you actually try to use your new skills. The more I practice using Korean in my day to day life, the more I understand why eighty percent of my students are terrified of speaking English in front of anyone else.
Anyways, below you’ll find the latest update on my dramatic endeavors here in Korea. That’s right, you get two posts for the price of one today! Don’t you feel special? Yes, yes you do. ‘Til next time, dear readers!
That’s right, it finally happened. Just like his character in the popular Saint Paul-based film The Mighty Ducks, I led a ragtag group of kids up against highly trained, more experienced teams. And thanks to my inspiring leadership, we were victorious.
Okay, actually the kids and my co-teacher Seonmi did most of the work. But I’m still quite proud of our middle school’s English drama team. We were the youngest group by far in west Daejeon’s drama final, with four first graders in our cast of nine. Up against teams made entirely of third graders with more English and acting experience, they came out swinging and earned first place overall!
But never has the difference between coaching young actors in the USA versus here in Korea been more stark. This show was for competition, and the judges expect big voices and big motions. They want to be able to understand what the students are saying through their gestures as much as through the words. A big dose of silliness never hurts, either. The result is a whole lot of adorableness with heaping helping of ridiculous sound effects and music cues. Just so you’re aware of what you’re getting into if you choose to click on the video below.
The script is posted below the video. I’d recommend two windows to follow along if you have trouble with the sound quality or the pronunciation (although I think their pronunciation was pretty darn good).
THE REAL HANSEL AND GRETEL
(The play starts in Mother’s house. HANSEL and GRETEL are playing computer games. Firing guns and other game noises can be heard. The FAIRY GODMOTHER is standing stage right.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Hello, everyone! Now, I bet you think you already know the story of Hansel and Gretel. You know, the two children who run away into the woods and meet a wicked witch who wants to eat them? Well, you see, that story’s not really how it all went.
Today, I am going to tell you the true story of Hansel and Gretel. And, like any good story, it begins with, “Once upon a time…”
(The Fairy Godmother steps out of the way as MOTHER enters from stage left.)
HANSEL
That’s stupid! I killed you first!
GRETEL
No way, I killed you first!
HANSEL
Nuh uhhh!
MOTHER
Hansel! Gretel! It’s time for your chores!
GRETEL
Chores? But it’s Saturday!
MOTHER
And you have to help around the house! It’ll only take an hour.
HANSEL
A whole hour? No way.
MOTHER
And don’t forget, you need to finish your homework before you go to bed so we can visit Grandma tomorrow.
GRETEL
Homework? But it’s Saturdaaay!
MOTHER
So put the games down and get to work.
(Hansel and Gretel ignore Mother.)
GRETEL
Oh, I got you again!
HANSEL
You’re the worst!
GRETEL
No, you’re the worst!
(Mother mimes pulling out the plug for the TV.)
HANSEL & GRETEL
Moooooooooom!
MOTHER
Get to work, kids!
(Mother exits. Fairy Godmother stops the action with her magic wand.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Hansel and Gretel were less than happy with Mother for this. Of course they were! What kind of parent asks their child nicely to do work on a perfectly good Saturday? So they came up with a plan for revenge!
(Fairy Godmother starts the action again.)
GRETEL
I have an idea.
HANSEL
Me too!
GRETEL
Let’s say it at the same time!
HANSEL & GRETEL
One, two, three! We should run away! Hey! That’s just what I was thinking!
HANSEL
Where should we go?
GRETEL
How about the forest?
HANSEL
The scary haunted forest with the wolves and witches?
GRETEL
Yeah, they’ll never think to look for us there! We can play all Saturday long!
HANSEL
Good thinking, sis!
(Fairy Godmother freezes the action again.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Boy, Hansel and Gretel sure are smart, aren’t they? They packed up a lunch of sandwiches and pop and made for the forest. The scary one with all the wolves and witches…
(Scene change. We are in a forest now, with a large bush to hide behind. Hansel is eating his sandwich, and Gretel carries a picnic basket.)
GRETEL
Hansel, save that for later! You’ll be hungry if you don’t!
HANSEL
But I’m hungry now.
GRETEL
We left five minutes ago!
(A scary growling noise is heard from behind the bush.)
HANSEL
What was that?
GRETEL
It sounded like…
(THE BIG BAD WOLF leaps out from behind a bush. He is small, and looks very nice.)
HANSEL & GRETEL
A WOLF!!!
(They run screaming.)
BIG BAD WOLF
Hey, wait! Wait!
(Hansel stops running and looks back at the Wolf.)
GRETEL
It’s a trick! The Big Bad Wolf will eat us up!
BIG BAD WOLF
What? No I won’t! I just smelled your sandwich.
HANSEL
Get away from us you beast!
BIG BAD WOLF
No, really! I’m super-hungry. Is that peanut butter and jelly?
(Big Bad Wolf reaches for the sandwich.)
HANSEL
Hey! Hands off!
GRETEL
Come on, Hansel! Wolves are dangerous. We shouldn’t stick around.
BIG BAD WOLF
I’m not dangerous. Who told you that?
GRETEL
Everyone knows that. Wolves eat people all the time. Haven’t you ever heard of Little Red Riding Hood?
BIG BAD WOLF
That whole story was a lie! I did dress like an old lady, but it was Halloween and I did not eat anybody!
HANSEL
What about the Three Little Pigs?
BIG BAD WOLF
I know those pigs. They’re nothing but bullies.
GRETEL
Huh?
BIG BAD WOLF
They’re the ones that ran around telling everyone I was big and bad. They were making fun of me because I’m small. And I don’t even eat pork! I’m a vegetarian!
HANSEL
That’s not very nice of them.
BIG BAD WOLF
It wasn’t very nice of you to run away from me.
HANSEL
Sorry. Here, you want the rest of my sandwich?
BIG BAD WOLF
Yeah, thanks!
(Hansel gives the Wolf his sandwich, who eats it while making growling Wolf noises.)
GRETEL
Hansel! What if you get hungry later?
HANSEL
We can share your sandwich.
GRETEL
I’m not sharing. Come on, Hansel, let’s get out of here.
BIG BAD WOLF
Hey, if you see those three little pigs, could you tell them you saw me? And that I’m a pretty nice guy?
GRETEL
Sure, whatever.
(Fairy Godmother freezes the action again.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
So Hansel and Gretel narrowly escaped from being supper for the Big Bad Wolf.
BIG BAD WOLF
(Still eating the sandwich.)
That’s not very nice, you know!
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Quiet, you! I’m telling the story. Hansel and Gretel continued their adventure in the forest, and soon came across some very interesting houses…
(Hansel and Gretel exit. The 3 LITTLE PIGS enter with their houses, and Hansel and Gretel enter after them.)
HANSEL
Hey, we should see if there’s anyone inside. I’m hungry.
GRETEL
I told you, you shouldn’t have shared your sandwich with the wolf.
(Hansel goes to the first little houseand knocks.)
LITTLE PIG 1
Who is it?
HANSEL
It’s Hansel! I was wondering if you had any food.
LITTLE PIG 1
I do have food.
HANSEL
Could I have a bite?
LITTLE PIG 1
Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!
(LITTLE PIG 1 reaches out of her house and high-fives LITTLE PIG 2 in her house next door. Hansel goes to the next house.)
HANSEL
Hello?
LITTLE PIG 2
What do you want?
HANSEL
I’m just a little hungry. Can I come in?
LITTLE PIG 2
Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!
(All three pigs laugh and high-five each other.)
GRETEL
You know, you guys aren’t very nice.
HANSEL
Yeah, the wolf was right about you!
LITTLE PIG 1
The wolf?
LITTLE PIG 2
The big wolf?
LITTLE PIG 3
The big bad wolf?
(The pigs laugh again.)
HANSEL
I guess so. But he’s not very big, and he was really nice!
LITTLE PIG 2
It’s no way for a wolf to behave!
LITTLE PIG 3
He’s more afraid of us than we are of him!
(The pigs laugh again.)
GRETEL
Maybe it’s because of how mean you are.
HANSEL
Yeah, if you were nicer maybe you’d have more friends.
LITTLE PIG 2
And how many friends do you children have?
LITTLE PIG 1
Not many, I bet!
GRETEL
That’s not true. We have friends. Like… um… Hansel?
HANSEL
Errrr…
LITTLE PIG 2
Not so great yourselves are you?
HANSEL
Maybe not. We were pretty mean to Mom before, Gretel.
GRETEL
Yeah, maybe.
LITTLE PIG 2
Well, isn’t this touching?
LITTLE PIG 3
Heartwarming!
LITTLE PIG 1
Adorable!
(The pigs all laugh again.)
HANSEL
Laugh if you want, but what happens when a real Big Bad Wolf comes?
GRETEL
Maybe then you’ll wish you’d been nicer, so you’d have friends to help you.
LITTLE PIG 2
Hmm…
LITTLE PIG 1
I think they might be right.
LITTLE PIG 3
Maybe we should apologize to the Wolf.
LITTLE PIG 2
Maybe so.
(The Fairy Godmother steps forward as the Pigs move their houses offstage.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Thanks to the adorable children, Hansel and Gretel, the Three Little Pigs were soon the best of friends with the Big Bad Wolf. Meanwhile, Hansel and Gretel tried to find their way home to their mother, but soon found that they were lost, deep in the forest…
GRETEL
If you hadn’t eaten your whole sandwich we could have left pieces of it to help us get home!
HANSEL
It’s not my fault! It was your idea to come into the forest.
(Hansel grabs his stomach.)
I’m so hungry.
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Just then, they came upon a very strange sight. It was another house, but this one was made of candy! And cookies! And sweets!
(The WICKED WITCH’S house comes onstage, carried by the witch.)
HANSEL
Gretel, do you see that? Or am I going crazy?
GRETEL
It’s a house made of candy!
(Hansel runs to the house and starts pulling pieces of it off and eating them.)
GRETEL
Hansel, wait! Maybe we shouldn’t eat the house. What if someone lives there?
HANSEL
Candy is for eating, Gretel. If they didn’t want me to eat their house, they wouldn’t have made it out of candy.
GRETEL
Good point.
(Gretel joins her brother and they both start eating the candy off the house.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
The hungry children were so grateful for the food that they didn’t even notice the mean, wicked, ugly old witch come out of her house!
(The WICKED WITCH comes out from behind the house and watches the children.)
WICKED WITCH
Hello there, little children.
(Hansel and Gretel turn around, see the witch, and wave. Their mouths are too full to speak.)
WICKED WITCH
What are you doing way out here in the forest?
(Hansel and Gretel shrug.)
WICKED WITCH
You must be so hungry!
(Hansel and Gretel nod.)
WICKED WITCH
And tired!
(Hansel and Gretel nod.)
WICKED WITCH
Come inside! You can rest and I will cook something for you.
(Hansel and Gretel high five. The witch goes into the house.)
GRETEL
Should we go? It might be dangerous.
HANSEL
She has a candy house in the middle of the woods! What could possibly be dangerous about that?
GRETEL
Again, good point.
(Hansel and Gretel follow the Wicked Witch.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Meanwhile, the Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad, mean, scary old wolf had apologized to each other and made friends.
(Music. The Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf all enter together, dancing around like the best of friends.Suddenly, the Wolf stops everything.)
BIG BAD WOLF
Stop!
LITTLE PIG 1
Why?
LITTLE PIG 2
What is it?
BIG BAD WOLF
Those two children! I can smell them! And they’re heading for… the Wicked Witch’s house!
(The Three Little Pigs all gasp.)
LITLE PIG 3
Not… the Wicked Witch!
BIG BAD WOLF
Yes… the Wicked Witch!
LITTLE PIG 2
Oh no!
BIG BAD WOLF
We have to help them!
LITTLE PIG 1
I’m afraid!
LITTLE PIG 2
Yeah, we’re just little pigs, and you’re a big, bad wolf! Maybe you should go help them!
BIG BAD WOLF
I can’t do it all by myself. I need your help.
(The Three Little Pigs all look at each other.)
LITTLE PIG 2
Fine. We’ll help. Which way do we go?
BIG BAD WOLF
Just follow your nose!
(The Wolf runs offstage, sniffing, and the Three Little Pigs follow. The Fairy Godmother steps forward.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
Back at the Witch’s house, the adorable heroes have found themselves in hot water.
(A jail cell is brought on (the candy house, flipped backwards), and Hansel and Gretel are trapped inside.)
WICKED WITCH
You think you can just go around eating people’s houses?
GRETEL
Not usually.
HANSEL
Only if they’re made of candy.
WICKED WITCH
No! You can’t!
HANSEL
But I was hungry!
WICKED WITCH
Well, guess what? I’m hungry now. Do you know what’s for dinner?
HANSEL & GRETEL
Umm… candy?
WICKED WITCH
Wrong! Children!
(The Wicked Witch laughs.)
HANSEL
Uh oh.
GRETEL
We have to get out of here!
WICKED WITCH
There is no way out! I made that prison myself… with magic!
(The Big Bad Wolf and the Three Little Pigs enter.)
BIG BAD WOLF
Wicked Witch, Wicked Witch, can I come in?
WICKED WITCH
No! I’m getting ready to stew some children!
BIG BAD WOLF
Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll bloooooooow your house in!
WICKED WITCH
Really? I thought you’d eat it.
HANSEL
It’s the Wolf!
GRETEL
He’s here to rescue us!
(The Big Bad Wolf tries to blow the house over. Of course, it doesn’t work.)
LITTLE PIG 2
Come on, Pigs! Let’s help him!
(The Big Bad Wolf keeps blowing, and the Pigs lift up the ‘house’ and tip it over.)
WICKED WITCH
Noooo! My evil magic candy house!
(The Little Pigs surround the Witch threateningly.)
LITTLE PIG 2
You’d better get out of here, Wicked Witch.
LITTLE PIG 1
Before we show you how big and bad Little Pigs can be.
WICKED WITCH
Okay, I’m leaving!
(The Wicked Witch runs away.)
GRETEL
Wow, thanks guys!
BIG BAD WOLF
It’s nothing. We couldn’t leave you here with that mean old Witch.
LITTLE PIG 2
Not after you helped us become friends.
LITTLE PIG 1 & 2
Yeah!
HANSEL
See, Pigs? I told you the Wolf was nice.
GRETEL
Come on Hansel, we should try to get home.
HANSEL
But we don’t even know which way to go!
BIG BAD WOLF
I can help you with that! I’ll just sniff my way there! Follow me!
(The Big Bad Wolf follows his nose offstage, and Hansel, Gretel, and the Little Pigs follow.The Fairy Godmother steps forward.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
So the Big Bad Wolf led the children back to their mother. Goodness, I sure hope Mother changed her mind about all that homework and those awful chores, don’t you?
(Mother enters, looking this way and that.)
MOTHER
Hansel? Gretel? Where are you?
(Hansel and Gretel enter and run to their mother, giving her a big hug.)
HANSEL & GRETEL
Mom!
MOTHER
You’re home! Where have you been?
HANSEL
We went into the forest!
GRETEL
We met a friendly wolf!
HANSEL
And some pigs!
GRETEL
And a witch tried to eat us!
MOTHER
What were you doing in the forest?
GRETEL
We didn’t want to do our work on a Saturday.
HANSEL
But it’s fine now, Mom! We’ll do all our chores and homework!
GRETEL
We learned our lesson.
HANSEL
We have to help people and be nice so others will help us when we need it!
MOTHER
Well… okay! Good!
(Fairy Godmother steps forward.)
FAIRY GODMOTHER
The children learned a great lesson and the Big Bad Wolf and the Three Little Pigs became friends. This is the end of the true story of Hansel and Gretel. And of course, they all lived happily ever after. Except for the witch, because her house was ruined.
(There is much ridiculous singing and dancing to the same song we used in the last show, because we were too lazy to find a new one.)
Really, I’m not. I know I haven’t updated here since Christmas, but I have an excuse. Well, a lot of them. None are very good. I was back in America for three weeks, for one. I took a few other vacation days to travel around Korea. When I was writing in between all that I was trying to finish a script for the new season of English Drama Club. I went to Seoul for a Saint Patrick’s Day festival. I climbed a couple mountains. But mostly? Mostly I’ve been lazy.
Okay, so I go to work and all of that, but the days of, “Holy crap I’m in Korea and must use every second to live life to the fullest and experience everything I can while I’m here!!!” are, well, gone. The starry-eyed optimism of a newcomer has been replaced with the glazed-over expression of a jaded veteran. Who brought his Xbox back from America.
When I first arrived a little over a year ago I was bubbling over with excitement. I may have even vomited a little pure excitement here and there. People who’d been here far longer than a few days gave me warnings, like, “Some older people hate foreigners,” “Your school will sometimes be very frustrating to deal with,” and, “For the love of God make sure you center yourself before pooping in the squat pots.” I, of course, ignored their warnings, thinking that my new home could do no wrong.
And now I’m the one giving the unsolicited advice when I run into new folks around town. Granted, if I have any advice to give to them, it’d be these three things: don’t take crap from your school, be persistent, and no matter what it looks or smells like you should probably eat it at least once because it might be delicious. But part of growing accustomed to a new place and new culture is growing accustomed to the things that bother you about it. And nothing puts those things in sharper relief quite like a little time back in the homeland.
When I arrived back at Incheon International Airport from my time in the good old Midwest, one of my biggest pet peeves about life in Korea was on full display immediately. Line etiquette. By which I don’t just mean standing in line, I more mean lines that form where none should. Specifically escalators. I was spoiled on escalators from my time in London, where it is considered extraordinarily rude to not keep to the right in case someone’s in a hurry. In Korea, the modus operandi is to ensure that no one can ever, ever pass you no matter how much they want to.
Are you in a group of two or more? Stand next to each other, please. Only one of you? Stand right in the middle, maybe taking a wide stance to ensure thin folks have no shot at moving up, either. If someone asks you to move, it is improper to move on the first ask unless you’re feeling charitable. Why is this? Honestly, I have no idea. My working theory is that people in this country work so hard that if a machine offers to do the moving for them, even for a little while, they are going to damn well accept the welcome respite.
Another important rule is to rush to get on the escalator before anyone else for maximum standing-around efficiency.
So what would be my very best advice to a new native-speaking English teacher in Korea? Simple. Take the stairs, you lazy so-and-so. By the time you get up to the top you’ll have saved yourself plenty of standing-around-with-people’s-butts-in-your-face time, and maybe you’ll even feel like you got a little exercise. The best part? Those stairs are all yours. Nobody ever uses them.
Those people at the top are just cardboard cutouts posing for the picture.
But hey, that’s really my biggest complaint. I hate using escalators here. I can deal with it because I can avoid them. In America, it was impossible to avoid the things that annoyed me to no end, specifically neckbeards and hipsters (and they often go together).
That’s all I have to say for today, dear readers. I hope that my next post will come along much, much faster than this one did. I must now return to the arms of my one true love, for she is a harsh and demanding mistress. ‘Til next time!
Oh, how I long for your embrace. And to think, I nearly cheated on you with donuts!
Well, I did it. I made it through my first official Christmas away from home. So, (you ask, wide-eyed and awed) what was it like? How is Christmas celebrated in Korea? Well don’t fret, dear reader, because I am here to tell you that it seems to be a mix between Christmas in America and Valentine’s Day. That’s right, you get all that insufferable holiday cheer shoved down your throat in the form of mistletoe and holly, Christmas trees, and creepy robot Santas as well as the constant Valentine’s Day reminder that you are alone and ugly and no one will ever love you! Hooray!
Pictured: Christmas in Korea
Okay, so I’m being a little melodramatic. But Christmas is, in Korea, less a day to be spent with family under the tree and more a day to spend with a girl/boyfriend, shopping and going to movies and eating at nice restaurants. Also, there’s presents and Christmas carols. But take this: on Christmas Eve, when most Americans who celebrate the holiday would be at home eating a home-cooked meal and watching It’s a Wonderful Life (or whatever it is people do these days), the restaurants all over Daejeon were positively packed. I went for dinner with a large group of friends, and waited for nearly three hours in the lobby of our chosen restaurant. Once inside, we saw that most tables were taken up by couples gazing lovingly at each other over their Christmas Eve steaks.
Once I’d powered through Christmas on a diet of (literally) meat and potatoes, I had a school trip to look forward to. No, not a school trip with students, but one with only the staff of my school. We went on an overnight excursion to the island of Jeju, just past the southern tip of the Korean peninsula. It’s a subtropical island that seems to have a completely schizophrenic climate. Up north, it was incredibly windy and cold. Towards the center of the island, it was chilly with thick layers of snow coating the ground. And down south was mild with no snow and plenty of sunshine. This is an island that takes maybe an hour to travel from north to south.
Above: Monday.
Below: Tuesday, 15 miles away.
Anyways, Jeju-do (do, as in doe [a deer, a female deer], means island in Korean) was perhaps the most exhausting bout of furious traveling crammed into an incredibly short time I’ve ever witnessed. After landing at around 9:30AM on Monday, we proceeded to a Chinese acrobat circus, hiking a stretch of coastline, going on a cruise around some volcanic islands, and orange picking. Yes, you can pick oranges in the snow on Jeju-do.
Anyways, that night our unsuspecting group was bussed over to a ‘nightclub’ after dinner. When you think of a nightclub, you might think about a sweaty basement with pounding bass beats and flashing strobe lights. Or maybe a slightly classier establishment with windows and other such high-end accoutrements. Apparently a nightclub in Jeju-do is a huge, bare facsimile of a Las Vegas lounge-act joint. A singer who ‘used to be famous’, according to my co-worker, and a band serenaded us as we entered. Later, the entire goddamned roof opened up for no reason like someone punching a sliced pie from below, only instead of being delicious and hilarious, it just let cold air blow in for awhile while they sprayed soapy foam on us from above.
Now imagine that it opens, only instead of being filled with custardy goodness, there’s nothing but a vast and frozen sky blowing its nose at you.
But wait! There’s more! The next act onstage was a lone man. Off in the corner was a DJ, who started playing some thumpin’ dance beats. Then, the guy started taking his Vegas-y leisure suit off. Until he was wearing only a glow-in-the-dark banana hammock.
Um, not quite.
That’s right, our intrepid tour guide saw fit to take the mostly middle-aged staff of a middle school to a male strip club for a little after-dinner treat. I was probably the least-horrified one there, but only because I couldn’t stop laughing. Especially when the lights went purple, and the stripper’s body somehow glowed purple while his man-thong glowed green like he was some kind of wildly gyrating reverse Hulk.
The next day we woke up early, went hiking once again, took a ride on a toy train to a Dutch windmill (really, should anything I say surprise you at this point?), visited a traditional Jeju-do folk village, and went horseback riding for maybe ten minutes. All in all, we did an absolutely ridiculous number of things in only two days and a little over twenty-four hours. I felt like I was at a buffet of free samples made of Jeju activities.
Thought I was joking about the toy train, didn’t you?
Nine times out of ten, if someone asks you to feel the bear, you don’t go near that shit. For the record, it was kind of greasy.
Anyways, it’s New Year’s Eve here in Korea, and I have been enlisted to taste-test the food at my Korean friend’s new restaurant before I get down to the execution of the Korean New Years’ ritual: forgetting everything that happened in the previous 365 days via the consumption of alcohol. Wish me luck. For the record, my New Year’s resolution is the same as it has been for the past several New Years now, which is to simply not die. Happy New Year, dear readers!
If you’ve been paying any attention at all to the news, you’ve probably heard about the recent events just off the coast of the Korean Peninsula. Just a few months after tensions between North and South Korea ratcheted up another notch with the sinking of the Cheonan, an hour-long exchange of artillery fire took place on Yeonpyeong Island, about 350 kilometers northwest of Daejeon. Being through both of these incidents, the thing that strikes me most is how little my Korean co-workers actually talk about it. Yesterday, the day after the exchange of fire hit international news airwaves, no one at my school even mentioned it. Life went on as usual.
To my friends and family, don’t worry. The US Embassy (and the embassies of my friends from other countries) has not raised the alert, not warned us that we should be packed and ready to go in an instant if anything gets worse. While the Cheonan and Yeonpyeong incidents are significantly worse than any between the Koreas in several years, they still come as a reality of living in a country that is technically at war with its only bordering neighbor. The fact that the regime within that neighbor is feeling increasingly insecure, and now threatened by only its second hereditary shift in power (a very risky proposition when the internal stability of the country relies upon a personality cult so powerful that many of its citizens look upon their leader as a sort of God-king) will only serve to make them more likely to lash out. But South Korea is a stable country with loyal and powerful allies. I feel safe living here, and I don’t feel any less safe now than I did last week.
On to brighter, sunnier things! First off, I would like to congratulate my students in the JinJam Middle School English Drama Club for first of all winning their preliminary round in Daejeon in September, and going on to place 2nd in the nation earlier this month! We beat out teams from Seoul, where the national view is that English ability is higher, and we laid waste to high school teams, as well! We’re like the Mighty Ducks of acting! Only in Korea!
Starring me as Emilio Estevez.
In addition to helping the drama club grab some glory, I was asked to teach Korean English teachers during a training session about using drama techniques in the classroom. Given that theatre was one of my areas of study in college, I jumped at the chance. Plus, I truly believe that using drama to teach a second language is a very effective technique. It builds pronunciation, vocabulary, listening skills, and fluency all at once, and it’s a ton of fun. And now I’m officially a trainer for the Korean public school system!
I also mentioned in my last post that one of my stories, a flash fiction (under 1000 words) piece called ‘Judas Wrote a Blank Check’, would be posted up on a website called The Flash Fiction Offensive. Well, you can read that story right now! Leave a comment if you want to curry my very valuable good favor, but beware that some people who have read it have found its content to be objectionable.
That’s all I really wanted to say this time out. Sorry for the lack of pictures, cartoons, and off-color jokes. I hope you’ll forgive me. Have a happy Thanksgiving! ‘Til next time!
WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS CRUDE JOKES (even more so than usual).
Okay, I’m sorry. I admit it, I’ve been slacking. I went to Japan, a major international film festival, and what I can only describe as a Rock ‘n Roll Flame Daredevil Explosion Festival in Daejeon and I still haven’t updated this site. But it’s only because I’ve been so busy and haven’t had time. That and I’ve been hard at work pursuing my more fictional writing. So anyways, this post will be a quick and dirty update on some of the absurd experiences I’ve had recently.
We’ll start with Japan. My number one motivation for going was to visit fellow Mac English major/EFL extraordinaire Wes in his little city of Uedo. After traveling for a very, very long time I finally arrived, looked around for Wes, and only succeeded in finding him when he shouted, “Jake! You look like a idiot!” To be fair, he was right. My few days in Uedo featured darts and beer, and some raw horse meat. I’m not entirely sure why horse gets such a bad rap as a food in the West. It was pretty tasty.
Anyways, from Uedo I went to Tokyo, where I had a rather strange mission for myself. I had to out-weird the package I received from my friends in Saint Paul, which included pre-colored coloring book pages, two varieties of cat food, random candy, and what I think was a ball of cat hair. That meant going to Akihabara, the video game/girls-in-maid-costumes-cafe/sex shop center of Tokyo. Basically, if you want to see all that weird stuff you’ve heard about people seeing in Japan, this is where you go. So I went there, and found no less than three different varieties of liquor-scented ‘erotic oil’, which I intended to pack up in a box and send to my friends because let’s face it, that’s pretty funny.
What was considerably less funny was when the bottles of liquor-scented sex oil turned out to be a little too big for the strict ‘liquid on an airplane’ limits and my bag was searched. A week’s worth of dirty laundry was unearthed, and the security guard was rather confused by the bottles of brightly-colored oil in my bag and had to run them by about three of his colleagues. While snickering. I tried to keep a sheepish grin on my face so that they knew that I did not, in fact, have an oddly specific addiction to this stuff.
You know you want it.
In the end, they made me check my bag. So it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been arrested for attempted lubricant terrorism or something.
So anyways, Japan was indeed a blast. Tokyo is the cleanest city I have ever been to, almost to the level of being creepy. There is no garbage anywhere (and no trash cans, either, which seems something of a paradox to me). The food is delicious, public transportation efficient, and landmarks appropriately beautiful.
Quick! What does this Tokyo landmark remind you of?
October brought the Busan film festival, which is a huge event. For me, it mostly involved standing in line for tickets, finding out that the movies we really wanted to see were sold out, and settling on a couple of documentaries. One was an interesting look at growing up in the Soviet Union as it crumbled, the other was a three-hour propaganda film for kabuki theatre in Tokyo. And we saw a Korean movie star! I don’t know who it was, but I know it was a movie star because he was surrounded by people with cameras and autograph materials.
Finally this brings me to the Daejeon Balloon and Rock Festival. Which also included guys flying around in weird parachute/giant fan contraptions, towering jets of flame, fireworks, and epic fantasy quest music in the background, leading to the single most absurd moment of sensory overload of my life.
Center: towering jet of flame. Background: fireworks. Top right: Guys in weird parachute/fan contraptions. Not pictured: Epic fantasy quest music.
Whew. I guess that’s all. I’ve been busy. As evidence of such, I want to give you a link. A flash fiction (a story under 1000 words, for the uninitiated) piece of mine will be going up on this website in about two weeks. Be warned, some people who’ve read it have been… shall we say, displeased with its themes and certain events therein. But I’m proud of it, and it’ll be my first fiction published outside of a school I was attending!
My English Drama Club was in its second competition on Saturday. If you’ll recall, we finished our first competition in second place. This time out we laid waste to our adversaries and secured first place and a trip to Seoul to compete nationally. So that’s pretty cool.
As a theatre and English major you might think I would be predisposed to getting Korean students to act in English. But these competitions seem to have surprisingly little to do with actual acting. One thing directors in normal theatre are not supposed to do is give line readings to their actors; tell them how to say a line. With this play, though, that’s pretty much all we did. The movements and gestures are all carefully choreographed and rehearsed ad nauseum (the whole thing is less than ten minutes long, but we managed to have a few three hour rehearsals nonetheless). Sound effects, music clips, and dancing are a must according to the students, which is how they wound up sneaking High School Musical into this thing when I missed rehearsal one day. But I’m not sure how much the students here want to act (and some of them have the potential to be really good) and how much they really just want to win. Or learn to speak English better. Whatever the motivation, they did a fantastic job and put on a good show, despite our budget and performance space both being drastically reduced in size in comparison to our first effort, so I’m posting the video below for you to see. Under the video I’ll paste the script, so if you feel the need to follow along to better understand the words you can go right ahead.
My next post will come after my Japan trip, so ‘til then, dear readers!
SUPERHEROES
(The play takes place in an average school. PETER is alone in a classroom, reading a comic book. The NARRATOR walks among the other characters, sometimes interacting.)
NARRATOR Behold, Peter, a seemingly normal young man. But hidden underneath his average appearance, there is hero waiting to be born!
(BEN walks by and pushes Peter out of his chair.)
BEN Nerd!
PETER Ow! Jerk…
NARRATOR The hero has been waiting for a long time, but I think he’s almost ready now.
(Ben turns around and goes back to Peter.)
BEN What did you say?
PETER Nothing.
BEN That’s right!
(Ben hits Peter for emphasis and walks away again.)
NARRATOR Okay, any second now…
(Peter gets up and sits back in his chair. He picks up his comic book again.)
PETER What a bully!
NARRATOR Seriously, I know it’s coming.
PETER I wish I could be more like… Action Man!
(Superhero music, the Narrator puts a cape on Peter.)
NARRATOR There it is!
PETER (He sighs.) But I’m not really a superhero. I’m just a normal kid.
NARRATOR Oh, come on! I know what you need… a sidekick!
(EMMA enters the classroom, carrying her books for class.)
EMMA Are you okay, Peter?
PETER Yeah Emma, I’m fine. It’s just Ben being mean again.
EMMA He’s such a jerk. There must be a way to teach him a lesson!
PETER You’re right! If we work together, I’m sure we can think of something.
EMMA Um, are you wearing a cape?
(The Narrator swoops in and puts a cape on Emma, too.)
PETER I guess so. But so are you.
NARRATOR Behold, the greatest superhero team of all time!
(Superhero music.)
EMMA Where’s that music coming from?
NARRATOR But wait! Another approaches!
(Music. BRUCE enters the classroom.)
PETER Oh great, it‘s that jock, Bruce.
BRUCE Hi, guys. What’s with the capes?
EMMA We’re not sure. I think we’re superheroes.
BRUCE Peter, you look upset. What’s wrong?
PETER It’s Ben. He’s always so mean to me.
BRUCE Yeah, Ben can be mean sometimes.
EMMA We’re going to teach him a lesson.
BRUCE How?
PETER We don’t know yet. But I have a good imagination.
EMMA And I’ve got the smarts.
BRUCE Well maybe I can help, too. Ben does need to learn that it’s not okay to pick on people.
PETER What can you do?
BRUCE Well… I’m strong. Like, really strong.
NARRATOR (Puts a cape on Bruce.) And so, our dynamic duo became a trio! A League of Heroes set against the school bully! (Superhero music.)
PETER Where do these capes keep coming from?
NARRATOR Meanwhile, the villain meets with his henchmen in their hideout… er, I mean, the hallway.
(Peter, Emma, and Bruce all freeze while Ben enters with his friends OTTO and JEAN.)
OTTO Hey Ben, I think we’re going to be late for class…
BEN Who cares?
JEAN Um, me?
BEN Shut up, Jean.
OTTO Why can’t we just go to class?
BEN Because, Otto, we’re going to catch whoever’s late to class, and shake ‘em down for their lunch money!
JEAN Ohh, now I see.
OTTO Good plan, Ben!
BEN I know. I’m a genius.
NARRATOR An evil genius. The arch-nemesis of our superheroes: Bully Man! (Music, pause.) It’s okay to boo him, if you want.
BEN Now come on, you morons, follow me!
(Ben, Otto, and Jean all exit. )
NARRATOR Back in the classroom, The League of Heroes confers.
EMMA So what do you think we should do?
BRUCE Well, I could use my awesome muscles to punch Ben in the face. He’d never see it coming!
PETER Real heroes never have to use violence, Muscle Man.
BRUCE But Batman uses it all the time!
PETER Are you Batman?
BRUCE No.
PETER Didn’t think so.
EMMA Okay Peter, if we can’t hurt Ben back, how can we teach him a lesson?
PETER You’re the smart one, you tell me.
EMMA But this was all your idea. You’re the one with the imagination.
NARRATOR (sighs.) Guys, guys, don’t you think you should be working together?
(Peter, Emma, and Bruce all jump, surprised.)
BRUCE Where did you come from?
NARRATOR Never mind that. Just stop arguing and start thinking!
PETER Hey, this mysterious woman is right! We should all be working together.
NARRATOR (sighs again.) Thank you. (He snaps his fingers.) Disappear!
EMMA Hey, where’d she go?
BRUCE I have no idea what’s going on.
PETER Focus, guys! How can we work together to teach Ben a lesson?
EMMA Well, Ben likes to beat up on people smaller than him, right?
PETER Does he ever.
EMMA Then maybe we can use Bruce as a bodyguard!
PETER Wow, great idea!
BRUCE I like it. He’ll never get past these guns! (Bruce flexes his biceps.)
NARRATOR And so, our heroes were on their way to stopping their nemesis! But we still have one last hero before the final showdown…
(Sue enters, already wearing her superhero outfit, carrying her guitar.) The Musician! Using the gift of song to save the world!
SUE Hey, guys.
PETER, EMMA, & BRUCE Hi, Sue!
SUE What’re you doing?
PETER Oh, we’re superheroes.
SUE All of you?
EMMA Yeah, we’re a League of Superheroes, actually. You want to join?
SUE No, thanks. I usually fly solo.
EMMA Oh. I see.
SUE No offense to you guys.
BRUCE None taken.
PETER Yeah, it’s totally okay.
SUE Okay, then. (Pause.) You mind if I practice in here until class starts?
PETER, EMMA, BRUCE Of course!
SUE Thanks!
(Sue goes over to the corner and begins to practice her guitar.)
NARRATOR Well, that didn’t go like I‘d hoped. Maybe it’ll work out in the end. Anyways, back to the hallway, where the villainous Ben and his henchmen are putting their plan into action!
(Peter, Emma, Bruce, and Sue all freeze. Ben, Otto, and Jean enter.)
OTTO And then, the other nerd, he said -
BEN Shh! Someone’s coming. Otto you stand there. Jean, behind me.
(Otto goes to where Ben points, stage left, and Jean counter crosses stage right. All three pretend to be going about their normal business. Hank enters, carrying an armload of books.)
JEAN Hey there.
BEN Shut up, Jean. Hey there, loser.
HANK Me?
BEN You see any other losers around here?
HANK Um, no?
OTTO That’s right, loser.
BEN Shut up, Otto.
OTTO Sorry.
(Ben approaches Hank.)
BEN What have we here, geek?
HANK Just… my homework.
BEN Oh, it’s just your homework, huh? Then I guess you don’t mind if I do… this!
(Otto and Jean, one on each side of Hank, slam his books and papers to the floor.)
HANK Hey!
(Otto and Jean each grab one of Hank’s arms.)
HANK Let go!
JEAN Quit squirming, you little runt!
BEN You got any lunch money? Any food? Hand it over, geek!
HANK I don’t have anything, I swear!
OTTO Then we’ll just have to take… all of your homework!
(Bruce, Emma, and Peter enter.)
PETER Unhand that nerd, villain! (Superhero music.)
BEN Oh? And who’s going to make me?
EMMA We are! The League of Superheroes!
BEN Ooo, I’m shaking in my shoes. Go get ‘em, friends!
(Otto and Jean leap forward, but Bruce steps out and flexes his biceps at them.)
BRUCE Muscle power!
(Jean and Bruce stop and stumble back.)
OTTO Whoa!
JEAN I’m not going to mess with him!
(They both turn and run away.)
BEN Wait, come back! (They don’t.) Fine. You guys are losers, too! (He turns back to face Bruce, Peter, and Emma. Meanwhile, Hank hides in the background, watching.) I can take all three of you on at once, by myself!
PETER Ben, wait!
BEN Wait for what?
PETER Why do you want to beat us up?
BEN Because… you’re nerds? You’re weird? You’re smaller than me?
BRUCE I’m not smaller than you.
EMMA But Ben, how many friends do you have?
BEN I’ve got Otto and Jean.
PETER But are they your friends, or are they just afraid of you?
BEN What’s the difference?
NARRATOR Oh, my.
PETER Your friends want to hang out with you, and help you, and have fun with you. Do they do that?
BEN Well… I guess they mostly just punch what I tell them to punch.
EMMA Those aren’t friends, Ben. They’re henchmen.
BEN Are you… are you saying that nobody likes me? (Ben sounds as if he is about to cry.)
BRUCE Well, it’s just that when you go around being mean to people…
PETER …that’s the effect you have.
EMMA Nobody wants to hang out with a bully.
BEN But… but everybody already thinks I’m a bully. How can I convince people to be friends with me?
PETER You could start by apologizing to Hank over there.
(Hank steps forward and Ben goes up to meet him. Hank looks scared, but Ben picks up his book and hands it to him.)
BEN Sorry about that. I won’t be mean to you anymore.
HANK Really?
BEN Really.
HANK Wow! Thanks, League of Superheroes!
(Music.)
PETER, EMMA, & BRUCE You’re welcome!
EMMA See, Ben, it’s getting better already!
BEN Will you guys help me? To make friends and stuff?
PETER Of course! If we all work together, there’s nothing we can’t do!
(Sue enters with her guitar.)
SUE Hey, guys. How’s the superhero thing going?
BRUCE Awesome! I think we just added a new member!
BEN Really?
EMMA Of course!
NARRATOR And so, the League of Superheroes adds its fourth member! (Narrator puts a cape on Ben, superhero music plays.) And everybody learned a valuable lesson: That if we all work together, we can change anything!
SUE Hey guys, I’ve been working on a new song! Want to hear it?
I am going to get this bit of Korean profanity into the American lexicon if it kills me.
