This is the opening segment from THE BIG APPLE, a play written after a long baptism of fire.           

 THE BIG APPLE

                                   In the black, we hear the sound of
                                   APPLAUSE and CHEERING from inside a
                                   theatre.  Also, we hear the cries of
                                   "Author!  Author!" from the unseen
                                   audience.  Slowly, as each VOICE is
                                   heard, we see that we are inside Bob's
                                   brain.  Each voice is accompanied by a
                                   light, sharp or drawn out depending on
                                   each speech.  BOB is in his mid
                                   thirties.  He's a reasonably decent
                                   looking guy if your requirements aren't
                                   lofty.  His brain is a kind of
                                   clubhouse which stores all the
                                   essential stuff of Bob's life.  While
                                   everything in the brain is neatly-kept,
                                   there isn't a great deal of order to
                                   the place.  There are baseball gloves
                                   and movie posters, stacks of
                                   paperbacks, photos of various family
                                   members and friends.  Two or three
                                   televisions from preceeding eras. 
                                   Ditto a few VCRs.  A full-fledged
                                   computer, very new.  An old stereo. 
                                   Lots of baseball caps and a couple of
                                   Red Sox souvenir pennants.  There are
                                   also some specific items mentioned
                                   during the course of the play.  The
                                   only difference between Bob's brain and
                                   what his apartment must look like is
                                   that there seems to be no door into or
                                   out of Bob's brain.

                                   Oh, by the way, there is a very
                                   visible, extraordinary-looking chest
                                   situated in a very secure portion of
                                   the brain.
                                   Bob is in his brain, where he always
                                   seems to be, listening intently, and
                                   occasionally responding, to the VOICES.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            Now, that, is what I call a play!

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            It's wonderful!  My cheeks hurt from smiling so much!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Bob wrote that?  Our Bob?

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            I can't believe it!  It's so good!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Well, you know what he has to do.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            All right.  I'll say it.  That is the funniest play I've ever
            seen.

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            You know what you have to do.

                                   BOB
            I know what I have to do.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            And I saw DEATH OF A SALESMAN.  Twice.

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            Listen to what I'm telling you.  You should put this play on
            Broadway.

                                   BOB
            Good idea.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            And you're so quiet all the time!  Why didn't you tell us you
            could write like this?

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            And it's such a great title!  AULD LANG SYNE!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            I'm serious now--that's the best title...for a play...that
            I've ever heard.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            It's so...cheery!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            And I've seen DEATH OF A SALESMAN.

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Way to go, Bob!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            Twice.

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            Bring it to New York.

                                   BOB
            You think?

                                   2-VOICE (WOMAN)
            You love New York!

                                   1-VOICE (MAN)
            The Durante quote?  Remember?  The Jimmy Durante quote?

                                   2-VOICE (WOMAN)
            Bob loves New York!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Get it to The Apple!

                                   BOB
            Jeez, I'd like to, but...

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            You're "The Catholic Woody Allen!"  It said so in the paper!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            I read that.

                                   BOB
            Well...

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            Twice.

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            The Apple.

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            The Big Apple.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            New York!

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            The town so nice, they named it...

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            Twice!

                                   BOB
                          (simultaneously)
            Twice, I know, I know...

                                   All the voices now talk at once, each
                                   encouraging Bob to bring his play to
                                   New York.  Finally, Bob stops them.

                                   BOB (cont'd)
            All right!  All right! 
                          (he is holding his script; he
                           addresses the audience)
            I'm thinking...of taking my play...to New York.

                                   LIGHTS UP FULL.  Seemingly out of
                                   nowhere appears THE BIG APPLE.  He is
                                   the human manifestation of New York
                                   City.  Enough said.

                                   APPLE
                          (grabs script)
            Gimme that!

                                   BOB
            Hey, what are you doing?

                                   APPLE
            Look, right from the start, from the get-go, let's not yank
            each other's chains, all right sweetheart?  You know what I'm
            doing.  If you didn't know what I was doing, I wouldn't be
            here.

                                   BOB
            Wait a minute...the only way you could be here...

                                   APPLE
                          (riffling pages)
            Yes?

                                   BOB
            Is if I conjured you up.  Brought you into my brain.

                                   APPLE
                          (feeling weight of script)
            Correctamente!  Good Christ, what is this?  BEN-HUR?

                                   BOB
            But I wasn't thinking of...you.

                                   APPLE
            You'll have to cut.  85 minutes, tops, these days a show
            should run, unless you got kick lines, homosexuals or God
            Help Us Lloyd Webber.

                                   BOB
            I was thinking of New York.

                                   APPLE
            Listen, you got any Maalox in here?

                                   BOB
            With respect to my play.

                                   APPLE
            First of all, eliminate in this brain of yours the notion of
            ever again using the words New York, respect, and your play
            in the same sentence.

                                   BOB
            Who are you?

                                   APPLE
                          (gives script back to Bob)
            Hold this.  I got heartburn like a colony of red ants is
            farting in unison in my gastric tract.  Let me introduce
            myself.  I am The Big Apple.

                                   BOB
            I think of New York and I get you?

                                   APPLE
            Hey, you could do worse, believe me.  God forbid you should
            want to be a farmer and dream up Dubuque.
                          (kicks chest)
            Whoa!  Look at this!  Planning to use this thing, are you?

                                   BOB
            Someday.  Yes.

                                   APPLE
            "Someday."  Right.  That's what they all say.

                                   BOB
            What are you doing here?

                                   APPLE
            Let me see that again.
                          (reaches for script)

                                   BOB
                          (pulls script away)
            No.  No, I think I'll hold onto it for a while.

                                   APPLE
            I see.  And how will holding on to it serve its purpose for
            you?

                                   BOB
            Well, it's been produced a couple of times locally.  Maybe
            I'll try to get it done in Boston, see if it attracts
            national interest from there.

                                   APPLE
            You're cute.  Were you born naive or were you raised
            Catholic?

                                   BOB
            Maybe I don't care if it ever gets produced in New York.

                                   APPLE
            I wish you really believed that.
                          (his cellular phone beeps)
            There are better things I could be doing...wait...
                          (whips out phone, answers)
            What?...What do you mean, no traffic jams?...It's four-thirty
            in the afternoon!...Okay, look, here's what you do.  That UPS
            truck on...57th going east across 6th...Yeah.  Get him to
            take a right on 5th and a left on to 54th...Never mind why,
            just make him do it!
                          (covers phone; to Bob)
            I swear to God, I'm gone five minutes, it turns into Boise,
            Idaho.
                          (into phone)
            Okay?...Did he do it?...He cut off both those cabs and the
            Coup De Ville from Delaware?...How about the old lady in the
            station wagon?  She should be slammed into the
            newstand...Great!  You got gridlock?...Beautiful.  Now leave
            me alone.
                          (closes up phone)
            I'm gonna throw this out.  I never get any peace, plus in ten
            years I get a brain tumor.  Who needs it?
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