Posted by: robinsonwarner | July 24, 2008

The Basin


The scene opens on James and his grandmother.  She is pushing ninety.  They enjoy a quiet chat.  James’ grandma has a little bit of difficulty getting around the house, but I mean, she’s ninety, so give her a break.

Grandma:  Oh my James!  You’ve graduated from college already.  That is so amazing honey pie.

James:  Yeah Grandma, it’s pretty cool, but I miss my friends as well.  I won’t see them again for a really long time.

Grandma:  Me too.  I miss my friends too, but I mean that’s because they’re all dead.  We also felt that way during World War II. 

James:  Oh, I’m sorry Grandma, I didn’t mean to remind you…

Grandma:  So what was your major in college again?

James:  Communications.

Grandma:  That is very interesting, Jake.  Why didn’t you major in engineering or chemistry?

James:  That’s a good question.  I guess it was too hard.  It’s James, by the way.

Grandma:  I know.

James:  Right.  Can I get you another blanket Grandma?

Grandma:  Would you like something to eat?

James:  Oh no I’m fine Grandma, I had a Slim Jim before I came over.

Grandma:  What was your major dear?

James:  Communica— I mean Engineering.

Grandma:  That’s lovely, dear.  We need more people like you if we’re going to get to the moon first.

James:  That was thirty nine years…  So Grandma, what are you doing tonight?  Anything exciting?

Grandma:  Oh my, Jake, I feel my stomach is hurting me very badly.  I’m going to have to go to the bathroom.

James:  Oh God, well all right Grandma.  Let me help you up.

Grandma:  I don’t think I can make it

James:  What do you mean?  Oh you’re going to make it to the bathroom.  I’ll be damned if there’s old people shit everywhere that I have to clean up.  Let me call my mom real quick.

Grandma:  I’m not going to make it, Jake.  Is there a basin around here somewhere?

James:  A basin?  What is a basin?

Grandma:  You know a basin.   So I can go in it.  I’m not going to make it to the toilet.

James:  Right, ok, I’ll look for a basin.

Grandma:  Hurry Jake.  Get the basin.

James:  Grandma, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.  There’s no basin here in the room.

Grandma:  Get the basin, Jake!

Jake, I mean James, begins to quickly look around for the “basin” or something that might be construed as the basin by his grandmother who is delirious with what can clinically described as “diarrhea psychosis”.  James brings a small trash can to his grandmother in the living room.

James:  Here you go Grandma.  The basin.

Grandma:  This is not the basin Jake.  There has got to be a basin around here somewhere.  People wouldn’t just leave me without the basin here in case I couldn’t make it to the bathroom.  Keep looking.

James finds another trash can in the kitchen and brings it to his grandmother.

James:  There we go.

Grandma:  This is not the basin, Jake!  Are you fucking retarded?  I knew your mother shouldn’t have smoked all those clove cigarettes when she was pregnant with you.  Find that fucking basin!

James sprints upstairs and grabs every single trash can/receptacle/pillow case/potted plant and runs downstairs to bring them to his grandmother.  His hands, full he comes into the living room in a cold sweat.

Grandma:  Oh hello there James!  You came to visit me!  What are you doing with all those things?

James:  Oh, uh, I was looking for the basin for you.  You weren’t going to make it to the bathroom you said.

Grandma:  Oh don’t be silly, dear.  And what’s “the basin”?

James:  Unbelievable.

Grandma:  So what are you majoring in, dear?

James:  Euthanasia.





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