by Jamie Mohan
Curtain raises on a small kitchen. All of the burners have food cooking on them, the sink is full, the table is cluttered. A young asian woman, DAISY, is cutting vegetables at one side of the counter. A young, Caucasian male, JAMIE, is cutting chicken on the other side of the counter. We enter the scene mid-conversation.
DAISY: That’s a lot of meat. (Looking skeptically at the cutting board, compared to her own of vegetables)
JAMIE (defensively): It’s chicken. Healthy stuff.
DAISY: So where are you from?
JAMIE: The United States.
DAISY: American!? Do you have a gun?
JAMIE stares blankly at DAISY, staring incredulously in response to the question.
DAISY: At home, in America, do you have a gun. (Asking enthusiastically)
JAMIE: (laughing) Yeah, I do.
DAISY: Oh, really? Do you take it to the grocery store?
JAMIE: (Incredulously and perplexed)No. I do not…