Doug’s monologue from Emil Sher’s Mourning Dove
Cut out my tongue so I won’t be able to speak. (Beat) Twist my muscles into impossible knots. Twist them the way I’ve seen you wring a mop. Real tight. (Beat) Drill holes into my back. Drill like my back was a sheet of plywood. If you hit a nerve, keep drilling, like you’re drilling for oil, like you’re drilling your way to the Promised Land and will not stop until you’re there. (Beat) Saw off my thighbone. Saw it right off. Take the sawed off part and try shoving it back into the hip socket. It won’t fit, right, ’cause you’ve sawed off the ball part. C’mon. Shove that cut-off bone into the socket where it belongs. (Beat) Stick a feeding tube into me. You heard what Kovacs said. Chances are good I’m going to lose even more weight. Thirty-eight pounds and dropping. Get that feeding tube into me. A tube for every hole in my body while you’re at it… (Beat) When you’re finished. When you’ve finished all your cutting and drilling and sawing, send in my parents. My parents, they love me. God, yes. Their love, it’s like my daily seizures. It’s a sure thing. Thing is, it’s not enough. (Beat) My pain is greater than my parent’s love. (Beat) I want the pain to stop. (Beat) No more. (Beat) No more.