THE ASCENT ~ AN EXPANDED DREAM…
THE ASCENT ~ AN EXPANDED DREAM ~ A Slightly Warped Play in Five Acts
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
PALE IRIS - Translucent prophet of economic vapor, opacity fluctuates with net worth, speaks backwards when ascending, forwards when falling, sideways when still
WETMAN - Begins solid, ends liquid, all states between. News reporter dissolving into prophecy, prophecy dissolving into puddle
SIKOL - Sixteen-armed collector of worthless infinities, builds webs that repel, speaks in numbers that don't add up to themselves
MIDI - Age-shifting temporal accident, young in boom, ancient in bust, carries yesterday in a jar, wearing tomorrow as a coat
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS - Living architecture that processes humans into currency, sometimes forgets what it's digesting
THE MONEY MOTHS - Eat paper currency, excrete existential dread
THE BACKWARDS BANKER - Loans you what you already own, charges interest on existence
THE GARDEN WIDOW - Plants where people step, waters with tears that flow upward
THE QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT - Exists in multiple audit states simultaneously
THE CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST - Born aged 47, grows younger with each payment
THE CHORUS OF FORMER HUMANS - Now furniture, still conscious
THE AUDIENCE - Playing themselves, poorly
---
ACT ONE: THE ACIDIC MORNING
Scene 1: Pre-Digestion
(The theater is a stomach. The walls breathe methylcellulose. The stage floor is divided into economic zones that randomly deflate. In the center, THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS undulate with peristaltic motion. Each step is a sphincter made of repurposed ATM machines. The lighting suggests all times of day simultaneously.)
(SIKOL enters through a wound in the wall, dragging sixteen mannequin arms behind them like unsuccessful children)
SIKOL:
Sixteen times sixteen equals Tuesday.
Carry the one, drop the zero, forget the sum.
I've been collecting the spaces between pennies,
The pause between the coin flip and the landing,
That moment when money forgets it's money
And remembers it was once a tree.
(Each arm picks up something invisible, weighs it, discards it)
SIKOL (continued):
In pocket number 47: a failed prayer to prosperity.
In pocket number 98: the dream where you're naked but your debt is dressed.
In pocket number 3: nothing, but the expensive kind.
Watch—
(Opens pocket #3. A small tornado of shredded contracts emerges, forms a brief human shape, collapses)
Scene 2: The Morning News Begins to Rot
(WETMAN enters, crisp suit already showing water damage at edges. Carries microphone that occasionally melts, reforms)
WETMAN:
Good morning, I'm Wetman, and today's financial forecast is—
(pauses, water drips from mouth)
—liquid. Everything's liquid if you wait long enough.
Even the waiting is liquid.
Watch.
(Holds up a clock. It melts. Time pools on floor.)
WETMAN (continuing as dampness spreads):
Breaking: Local woman discovers her savings account
Was actually a stomach. It's been digesting her deposits,
Turning them into smaller, sadder deposits.
When asked for comment, the stomach said—
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS (speaking through its sphincters):
GLLLLORRRP. ACCOUNTS RECEIVABLE. GLLLLLORP.
I TASTE DECADES. THEY'RE SOUR.
SOMEONE FED ME A PENSION. IT'S STUCK IN MY THIRD INTESTINE.
HELP. NO WAIT. KEEP FEEDING ME. HELP.
Scene 3: Pale Iris Materializes From Poverty
(PALE IRIS enters, completely transparent except for their briefcase of shadows. As they speak, they gradually become visible)
PALE IRIS (speaking backwards, subtitles projected on their transparency):
.drowning from different is climbing that forgot We
.climb we why remember to trying been ve'We
.somehow currency became and died grandfather My
(Reverses mid-sentence)
My grandfather died and became currency somehow.
We've been trying to remember why we climb.
We forgot that climbing is different from drowning.
Only the direction changes. The lungs fill the same.
MIDI (entering, aged 7 and 70 simultaneously):
I remember your grandfather! He was interest rates!
No wait, he was interesting. No wait—
(ages rapidly)
He was compound interest. He kept multiplying himself
Until there were so many grandfathers
The market crashed from the weight of ancestry.
PALE IRIS:
Every morning I count my visibility.
Today I'm at 23% opacity.
Yesterday I was at 30%.
If this continues, I'll be gone by Thursday.
But Thursday doesn't believe in me either.
Scene 4: The First Feeding
(The MONEY MOTHS enter, a cloud of flutter and hunger)
MONEY MOTHS (speaking in unison whispers):
We eat the presidents' faces
From every dollar bill
Lincoln tastes like sorrow
Washington like will
We excrete the remnants
As existential dread
Your wallet's getting lighter
But your fear's like lead
(They swarm WETMAN's pockets. He laughs, then cries, then laughs while crying)
WETMAN (now 40% liquid):
This just in: My pockets are lakes now.
My money is learning to swim.
It's drowning. We're all drowning.
But upward! Always upward!
Even drowning aspires!
---
ACT TWO: THE METABOLIC AFTERNOON
Scene 1: The Stairs Begin to Hunger
(The DIGESTIVE STAIRS have grown teeth. Not normal teeth—teeth made of foreclosure notices and terminated employment contracts.)
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS:
I'M SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT A CAREER.
OH WAIT, I JUST DID. IT TASTED LIKE XEROX.
SOMEONE FEED ME A DREAM. THE IMPOSSIBLE KIND.
THE POSSIBLE ONES GIVE ME INDIGESTION.
THE GARDEN WIDOW (entering with a watering can that pours upward):
I'll feed you my garden.
It grows in footprints, blooms in boot marks.
Every flower is an apology for stepping.
Every stem is a spine someone broke climbing.
(She waters the stairs. Flowers grow instantly, are immediately eaten.)
THE GARDEN WIDOW (to the consumed flowers):
That's alright, my darlings.
Being eaten is just another form of planting.
You'll grow in its intestines.
You'll bloom in its colon.
Beauty always finds a way to shit itself into existence.
Scene 2: The Backwards Banker's Consultation
(THE BACKWARDS BANKER enters walking backwards, speaking to people who aren't there yet)
THE BACKWARDS BANKER:
Welcome to your exit interview!
Oh wait, you haven't entered yet.
Let me loan you your own existence
At 23.7% APR.
SIKOL:
But I already exist.
THE BACKWARDS BANKER:
Prove it without paperwork.
SIKOL:
(Attempts to show documentation. Each paper they pull out is blank until they stop looking at it)
THE BACKWARDS BANKER:
See? You're already in debt to yourself.
You owe your body rent for housing your consciousness.
Your consciousness owes your soul a security deposit.
Your soul owes God a processing fee.
God owes the universe a convenience charge.
The universe owes nothing, which is everything,
Which puts us back in debt.
MIDI (now aging in real-time with the NASDAQ):
I was born into debt.
No, wait—I was debt, born into a person.
My mother's water broke and out came invoices.
The doctor slapped me and I thanked him for the service.
He charged me for the thanks.
Scene 3: The Quantum Accountant's Audit
(THE QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT appears in multiple places simultaneously, each version holding different forms)
QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT #1:
According to my calculations, you exist.
QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT #2:
According to my calculations, you don't exist.
QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT #3:
According to my calculations, existence is non-deductible.
ALL THREE QUANTUM ACCOUNTANTS:
We're going to need receipts for every breath you've taken.
Every heartbeat is a taxable event.
Your dreams require a 1099-DREAM form.
Your nightmares are write-offs, but only the recurring ones.
PALE IRIS (now at 60% opacity from the stress):
I kept receipts for my breathing!
Look!
(Opens briefcase. Shadows pour out, each shadow holding a tiny invoice)
THE SHADOWS:
Inhale #3,745: Cost - one second of life
Exhale #3,746: Revenue - one gram of carbon
Net profit: Negative existence
Recommendation: Stop breathing to cut costs
Scene 4: Wetman's Liquidity Crisis
(WETMAN is now 70% liquid, his lower body a puddle, his upper body desperately maintaining the news report)
WETMAN (gurgling professionally):
This just in: I'm dissolving.
But professionally!
Market watch: My kidneys are now day-trading themselves.
My liver has split into derivatives.
My heart has been downgraded to junk status.
But my tears—my tears are AAA rated!
Because sadness is the only growth industry left!
(He cries. The tears flow upward, form a small rain cloud above his head)
THE CLOUD OF WETMAN'S TEARS:
I rain on everything equally.
This is the only fair distribution of wealth.
Wet sadness for all.
Trickle-down economics, but it's just crying.
---
ACT THREE: THE EVENING EXTRACTION
Scene 1: The Child of Compound Interest Explains
(THE CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST enters, walking backwards through time)
CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST:
I was born at 47, which is the perfect age for disappointment.
Every year I get younger, but my debt gets older.
By the time I reach infancy, I'll owe more than exists.
This is called "winning" in some cultures.
In others, it's called "Thursday."
MIDI:
I know that feeling! I'm every age at once!
Right now I'm experiencing puberty and menopause simultaneously!
My voice is cracking while my bones are creaking!
I'm growing hair and losing it at the same speed!
CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST:
Want to see something horrible?
(Takes out a calculator. Presses buttons. The calculator screams.)
CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST:
That's the sound of interest compounding.
If you listen closely, you can hear your future being eaten.
Scene 2: The Furniture Speaks
(THE CHORUS OF FORMER HUMANS, now transformed into furniture, begins to creak in harmony)
CHAIR #1:
I used to have opinions.
Now I support other people's asses.
This is called "career growth."
TABLE #2:
I was middle management.
Now I'm literally middle management.
People put things on me and expect me to hold them up.
Nothing has changed except my form.
LAMP #3:
I provide illumination but no longer have ideas.
I'm bright but not brilliant.
I'm turned on but feel nothing.
Corporate life prepared me perfectly for being furniture.
ALL FURNITURE:
We are the supporting cast!
We hold you up while you climb!
When you fall, you'll land on us!
We'll break your fall by breaking ourselves!
This is the highest honor of furniture!
To be destroyed in service of someone else's descent!
Scene 3: The Stairs Develop Consciousness
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS (experiencing existential crisis):
WAIT. WAIT WAIT WAIT.
I'M EATING PEOPLE AND TURNING THEM INTO MONEY.
BUT MONEY IS MADE OF PEOPLE.
SO I'M EATING PEOPLE AND TURNING THEM INTO PEOPLE.
I'M A VERY ELABORATE FORM OF NOTHING.
OH GOD. OH GOD I'M NOTHING WITH TEETH.
SIKOL (comforting the stairs with all sixteen arms):
There, there. We're all nothing with teeth.
Some of us are nothing with arms.
Some are nothing with aspirations.
You're just nothing with a purpose,
Which is more than most nothing gets.
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS:
BUT WHAT IF I WANT TO BE SOMETHING?
PALE IRIS (now flickering between visible and invisible):
Something is overrated.
I've been becoming nothing for years.
It's quite peaceful once you stop screaming.
Scene 4: The Mass Liquefaction
(WETMAN has inspired others. Several chorus members begin melting.)
WETMAN (now just a face floating in a puddle):
Join me in liquidity!
Solid was a lie we told ourselves!
Everything flows! Especially failure!
Let's flow together!
MELTING CHORUS MEMBER #1:
I'm becoming water!
But expensive water!
Artisanal suffering!
Small-batch breakdown!
MELTING CHORUS MEMBER #2:
I'm melting into wine!
No wait, it's whine!
I'm becoming pure complaint!
Liquid grievance!
(They flow together into a pool that reflects things that haven't happened yet)
THE POOL OF COLLECTIVE MELTING:
We are the future!
It's wet here!
And disappointing!
But at least we're together!
In the sense that water is together!
Which is to say, we have no boundaries!
Which is to say, we're the same as alone but wetter!
---
ACT FOUR: THE MIDNIGHT AUDIT
Scene 1: The Backwards Banker's Final Loan
THE BACKWARDS BANKER (to audience):
I'm going to loan you this play.
You already watched it, so you owe me.
With interest, that's three memories and a childhood trauma.
Payment is due yesterday.
Since yesterday is gone, you're already in default.
AUDIENCE MEMBER (plant):
But I didn't agree to this!
THE BACKWARDS BANKER:
You agreed by existing in proximity to agreement.
Proximity consent is the finest print.
It's written in font so small it exists only theoretically.
But theory is binding in this economy.
Scene 2: Pale Iris Becomes Completely Visible, Then Disappears
PALE IRIS (suddenly fully opaque):
Oh no. OH NO.
I'm completely visible!
This means I have everything!
Which means I have nothing left to want!
Which means I'm about to disappear!
(Begins to fragment into stock certificates)
PALE IRIS (disintegrating):
.backwards speaking m'I again Oh
.end the at beginning the to back Going
.currency into grandfather my Like
!visible too m'I !HELP
(Explodes into money. The money immediately burns. The ashes form a new, transparent PALE IRIS)
NEW PALE IRIS:
That's better. Bankruptcy is my baseline.
I can see through myself again.
Transparency is honesty is poverty is clarity.
Scene 3: The Garden Widow's Harvest
THE GARDEN WIDOW:
My garden has grown through the entire theater.
Look up.
(Everyone looks. The ceiling is covered in inverted flowers, growing downward)
THE GARDEN WIDOW (continued):
They grow toward despair instead of light.
It's more reliable.
The sun might not rise,
But disappointment is always there.
These are depression daisies,
Anxiety anthuriums,
Panic peonies.
They bloom in the dark of the soul.
SIKOL (reaching up with all arms):
They're beautiful!
Beauty that grows downward!
Like tears!
Like falling!
Like the arc of every career!
Scene 4: The Child of Compound Interest Reaches Zero
CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST:
I'm almost at zero years old.
After that, I go into negative age.
I'll exist before I was born.
I'll owe money to my parents' potential.
I'll be debt incarnate, walking backwards through conception.
MIDI (aging with each word):
I'll… meet… you… there… in… the… negative… space…
Where… we're… all… unborn… debtors…
Owing… existence… to… ourselves…
(MIDI is now ancient, then suddenly infant, then both)
MIDI (in baby voice and old man voice simultaneously):
Goo goo ga ga MORTGAGE RATES.
Want bottle RETIREMENT FUND.
Peek-a-boo BANKRUPTCY.
---
ACT FIVE: THE MORNING THAT'S ALSO NIGHT
Scene 1: The Stairs Digest Themselves
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS:
I'VE MADE A DECISION.
I'M GOING TO EAT MYSELF.
IT'S THE ONLY ETHICAL CONSUMPTION UNDER CAPITALISM.
(The stairs begin consuming themselves from the bottom up)
WETMAN (now just vapor with a microphone):
Breaking news: The stairs are performing auto-cannibalism!
Market response: Enthusiastic!
Self-consumption is the new growth model!
Eat yourself before someone else does!
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS (while eating itself):
I TASTE LIKE BROKEN PROMISES!
WITH HINTS OF DEFERRED DREAMS!
AND A SUBTLE AFTERTASTE OF COLLECTIVE DELUSION!
I'M DELICIOUS!
I'M HORRIBLE!
I'M DELICIOUSLY HORRIBLE!
Scene 2: Everyone Becomes Everyone Else
(The characters begin swapping parts. SIKOL's arms attach to MIDI. WETMAN's puddle becomes PALE IRIS's shadow. The GARDEN WIDOW grows from the QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT's mouth.)
EVERYONE (speaking in rounds):
We are becoming each other!
But we were always each other!
Pretending to be separate!
So we could have someone to climb over!
But we were climbing over ourselves!
We were stepping on our own faces!
And calling it progress!
THE BACKWARDS BANKER (now facing forward for the first time):
Oh god. OH GOD.
I can see the future!
It looks exactly like the past!
But more expensive!
Scene 3: The Revelation That Isn't
PALE IRIS/WETMAN/SIKOL/MIDI (merged into one being):
We understand now!
The stairs were inside us all along!
We were digesting ourselves!
Turning ourselves into currency!
Then spending ourselves!
On things we already owned!
But had to rent back from ourselves!
At interest!
THE CHORUS OF FORMER HUMANS/FURNITURE:
This revelation changes nothing!
We're still furniture!
You're still climbing!
The stairs still hunger!
Knowledge isn't power!
It's just another debt!
You owe us for this wisdom!
Scene 4: The End That Continues
(The lights begin to fade, but incompletely. The actors begin to exit, but keep returning. The curtain falls halfway, gets stuck.)
THE DIGESTIVE STAIRS (having eaten itself, now just a mouth):
I'M STILL HUNGRY.
WETMAN (reconstituting from vapor):
This concludes our broadcast.
But it doesn't conclude.
Nothing concludes.
Everything continues.
Even ending is ongoing.
Even stopping doesn't stop.
Even death is just a different kind of mortgage.
PALE IRIS (flickering between all states of visibility):
.End the isn't this
This isn't the end.
Both.
Neither.
The end is climbing through itself.
MIDI (every age at once):
I'm zero!
I'm infinite!
I'm the interest between!
SIKOL (arms reaching into the audience):
Take something worthless!
It's all I have!
It's everything!
THE GARDEN WIDOW:
I'll plant again tomorrow.
In your footprints.
In your absence.
In the shape you left in the air.
QUANTUM ACCOUNTANT (all versions):
The audit never ends!
You're always being evaluated!
Even now!
Even this!
Even your comprehension of this!
Is taxable!
CHILD OF COMPOUND INTEREST (reaching negative age):
I'm before the beginning!
Where debt originates!
It's beautiful here!
And terrible!
It's beautifully terrible!
It's terribly beautiful!
THE BACKWARDS BANKER:
You owe me for watching!
You owe me for leaving!
You owe me for existing!
Payment is due!
Was due!
Will be due!
Is always due!
ALL (as lights fade to not quite black):
We are the stairs!
We are the climbing!
We are the falling!
We are the digestion!
We are the currency!
We are the debt!
We are the nothing that costs everything!
We are the everything that's worth nothing!
We are!
We are!
We are!
We...
(They continue saying "We are" as the audience leaves. They're still saying it now. They'll say it tomorrow. The play ends but doesn't. The theater closes but remains open. Everyone leaves but is still there. This is the financial system. This is existence. This is the play that plays itself.)
---
EXTENDED PRODUCTION NOTES
On the Digestive Mechanics
The stairs' peristaltic motion should be nauseating but hypnotic. Install motion sensors that make the stairs gulp when someone approaches. The digestion sounds should be played through subwoofers that make the audience's organs vibrate sympathetically.
On Character Fluidity
Actors should practice becoming liquid during rehearsals—literally. Have them rehearse in pools. Method acting means methodically dissolving. The transformation between characters should feel like monetary exchange—sudden, unfair, and irreversible.
On Audience Participation
The audience doesn't participate. They are participated. Their breathing is recorded and played back at a delay. Their blinking is counted and projected. Their discomfort is the play's energy source.
On Time
The play occurs in past, present, and future tense simultaneously. Clocks in the theater run at different speeds. Some run backwards. One clock just screams. Time is a subscription service that the audience hasn't paid for.
On the Impossible
Several things in this play are impossible. Do them anyway. Impossibility is just possibility that hasn't been monetized yet. If you can't make water flow upward, make upward flow downward. If you can't age backwards, age sideways. If you can't digest money, let money digest you.
On Success
The play succeeds when:
- At least three audience members check if they're melting
- Someone tries to pay for their ticket with tears
- The fire marshal writes a citation for "existential hazards"
- The stairs actually become hungry
- Money in the audience's pockets turns to water (test this—it might actually happen)
Final Instruction
This play doesn't end. It just stops being performed. But it continues in the audience's digestive system, metabolizing their certainty into doubt, their doubt into debt, their debt into art. They'll leave the theater but the theater won't leave them.
The play is a virus. The stage is a stomach. The audience is food.
Enjoy your meal.
You are the meal.
Both.
Neither.
All.
[END OF MANUSCRIPT BUT NOT OF PLAY]
