SEG.WAY
        a play
                in one act 

        by
                        martin
                          fehebiel

(It is cold and dark. The wind blows through the trees, creating a stark
but realistic visage of the suffering during plague-era medieval times.
The King, an ironic, lowly fellow, sits on the stump, center. Upstage is
a waldorf salad of human scale.)

The King: (forlorn) For years I have toiled in these fields, my fields
of the damned, never to partake of the fruits of my labour! My people
suffer and I grow weary of their suffering! Alas that I could find a
talisman by which to retake my rightful place as true and honest King,
rather than the peasant's paupery I bestow upon the masses now...

Waldorf Salad: (wiggles)

The King: 'Tis true! And all that I have done is waste, a vagrant
wastrel in Caligula's cauldron! (places face into palm, affecting a cry)
You are my only confidant, surely you must have some great insight!

Waldorf Salad: (wiggles, produces forth a segway)

The King: (confused) I am confused.

Waldorf Salad: (mounts the segway and drives its wheels very slowly (and
smoothly without tipping) over the king)

The King: (sudden, gasping) RUN, ATREYU! (perishes)

Waldorf Salad: I am in SHOCK and AWE at the violent TRAGEDY that is BIRTH.

(the waldorf salad dissolves into smoke as the segway stands,
illuminated in violent ruddy hues, as the orchestra swells. the curtain
falls.)