If South Park can be made into a musical, doesn’t my life have the same potential? Sometimes, on days like this, I think I could pull it off. Observe:
A spotlight follows me to center stage, my head down and my hands in my pockets - classic down-in-the-dumps posture.
Off stage, someone tickles a couple soft keys on a piano and the hints of a song begin to fill the auditorium.
I lift my head and appear ready to say something, but suddenly I change my mind. My head goes down and the music fades.
A few seconds pass, the music starts up again, and it seems like I’m ready for the solo until- no, head down again.
Now, the piano kicks in for the last time, this time more authoritatively, and soon it’s impossible not to say exactly what I’ve been meaning to s-
What the hell’s the good of a diploma
If you’re cursed with rotten luck?
No company in the world wants to hire me.
In fact, they don’t seem to give a-
“Kiel!” Off stage your mom interrupts your ballad. The piano stops abruptly. “I don’t make you pay rent to live here, but I’m not made of money. It’d be nice if you could contribute something next month.”
“Okay, Mom!” I whine, trapped in my younger self’s mind the same way I’m trapped in his room.
The piano starts again. Face the audience.
What the hell’s the good of a diploma?
What was the point of all those A’s?
It’s been nine months and I’m still making nothing,
And damn it, Life, I could really use a raise.
At this point, I’ll start dancing gracefully around the stage. Well, my character will be dancing, most likely portrayed by Zac Efron. He’s the only young actor handsome and talented enough to pull it off. (Yes, I called Zac Efron handsome. Or did “talented” shock you more?)
As the dancing ensues, I’m joined on stage by a dozen other unemployed and worn down college graduates. The music has picked up to something more upbeat. We sing together.
High school was like eating glass
Compared to going to college.
The world seemed so full and bright,
And I soaked up all the knowledge.
I went to college, drank some booze
Now I’m poor and have the blues.
What’s a guy to doooooooooo?
If I had a choice, at least I. Could. Choose.
Two guys come to center stage. They speak while the piano and the dancing continue in the background.
GUY 1 (New York accent): I saw an old friend from high school the other day.
GUY 2 (dough-eyed and dorky): Oh really. That’s great!
GUY 1: He asked me what I’ve been doing since college.
GUY 2: What did you say, Mort?
GUY 1 (he faces the audience): Accruing interest.
They fall back in with the rest of the dancers. We sing together again.
It seems like ten times a day
I’m sending out my resume.
If this was a year ago
I’d be pounding beers with my bros.
What the hell is going on?
And how did I reach this place?
I should have been warned all along -
After college, you fall flat on your face.
Two different guys come to center stage.
GUY 1 (a smiling moron): I had an interview yesterday.
GUY 2: Really? How’d it go?
GUY 1: Great!
GUY 2: So you got the job?!
GUY 2: Fuck no! But they had free sodas in the break room!
They fall back in with everyone else.
I’m running out of patience
And I need to find something fast.
If this is called the Real World,
Well the Real World’s kicking my-
“Kiel! Are you doing a musical number in your room with your friends again?”
“No, Mom! Just leave me alone!”
The music cuts off when she interrupts, but now slowly builds up again as the ballad from earlier. The dancers fall back as I step into the spotlight.
What the hell’s the good of a diploma?
What am I supposed to do?
I know it has to be something,
And I’d be a millionaire if. I. Knewwwwww.
Head down, resuming down-in-the-dumps posture as the stage goes black. The crowd gives Zac Efron the uproarious applause he deserves for such a performance.
Curtain.
