Ben Franklin Play
Ben Franklin Play
Curtains rise. The narrator enters stage right. ‘Before we start, let’s begin.
Hearken, this endeavor stems from an imaginative inventor, erudite scholar, and witty wordsmith; Ben Franklin’s, bungalow in Philadelphia in 1776, during the Continental Congress but before Continental Breakfast. The scene is bleak, somber, and dreary; hitherto a crisp cold, and cloudy day with skies bedecked in an array of mighty and powerful winds from a knowledgeable Deity (or a groundhog that didn’t see his shadow).
Parenthetically, such untamed gusts acted as a midwife to the birth of a reminder to Franklin that windmills shouldn’t be made of kites because it flew away before it started to work. His creations were ahead of their time, but only by 30 minutes or so depending on if your sundial was accurate or glow in the dark.
As the violent breeze jostled Franklin’s personally designed wind chimes made of pocket watches, like Freud swinging a pendulum, they hypnotized spectator, John Adams before he could enter to show off his gift from his wife, Abby.
Adams, now in a trance, abruptly merits conviction of reincarnation and subsequently being suicidal due to his impatience. Sick thoughts were a result of his mind’s low immunity. Simultaneously, indoors and out of the harsh weather, Franklin, oblivious to his surroundings like a lip reader at a ventriloquist show, was rewriting Jefferson’s first draft of the constitution with his lazy quill that would complain that it’s fine the way it is.
Cantankerous of Franklin’s editing resembling the gray sky with kleptomaniac clouds stealing thunder, Jefferson’s affectation tried to pass the time while trying to ignore his shadow, imagined a yo-yo without a string but couldn’t think of many possible tricks.
Franklin’s moving hand stifled when trying to think of a shorter way to spell the word ‘abbreviation’ and an antonym for synonym spelled like a homonym. Meanwhile, Thomas Jefferson, leaning against Franklin’s office window, flicked the Amish light switch, igniting a candle.
Then adventitiously asserted the postulation that his shadow was a stalker that was afraid of the dark and empathized with the groundhog’s shadow as a Doppler radar predicting this weather like the back of a tarot card predicting your past (or a dyslexic palm reader). Franklin unconvinced by the hebetudinous
Franklin unconvinced by the hebetudinous conjecture forced an awkward smile as his mind raced steadfast and unwavering as he fantasized about daydreaming. Franklin snapped out of his myriad of random daydreams, one currently of cough drops for Laryngitis the voices in his head had, and continued to rewrite by replacing pronouns with amateur ones.
Restless and bored, Jefferson sanguinely relit a candle to reset the time on the sundial as a ploy to extricate him. Restless and bored, Jefferson sanguinely relit a candle to reset the time on the sundial as a ploy to extricate him and build a yo-yo with half a string.
Mistakenly while fidgeting around, Thomas gazed outside at Adams writing a suicide note and instead of dissuading him, pondered where the windmill went and if Abigail would be dating as a widow even though she had a weird obsession with squid. But he justified her offbeat style as women maturing faster than men. This explained why it took Jefferson’s father 40 years to develop breasts.
Franklin intermittently shouted absurdities while editing such as ‘negative numbers are just cynical,’ ‘Braille is hard to read with gloves,’ or ‘Noah’s Arch had fish, but they could swim anyway.’
Incidentally, Adam’s death was truncated by the fact his quill was made of an octopus captured by Abigail. Jaded and hard to frighten ink was sparse but it was still worth showing off compared to the lazy one Franklin had. Or the shy one Jefferson owned, so meek and timid it only wrote in parentheses and words preponderantly with silent letters.
Hearken as the endeavor concludes when a vexed Franklin shrieks in a curmudgeonly tone, ‘where’s my windmill?’ Then Jefferson kills the light, dodging his stalker, and drops a stringless yo-yo scarring the Squid allowing Adam to finish his suicide letter with great haste.
Subsequently, 30 mins later (according to your sundial accuracy or if it glows in the dark), Abigail and Jefferson begin dating while she’s a widow. And he’s still perplexed by her obsession with squids, but his new quill isn’t as shy just low on ink.
Hitherto Franklin (being ahead of his time) within that increment of 30 mins, designed a windmill filled with helium, which also flew away on a day that wasn’t windy, breezy, or slightly bleak. It supposedly drifted away after eating Continental Breakfast and before a meeting with Continental Congress. Before we end, let’s finish.
The narrator exits stage left. Curtain Falls.