Man, I Was a Lot Funnier in High School

So a while back, I was cleaning through some boxes of papers in the garage, tossing out old homework assignments from high school and college (the precious few I actually completed). Amidst the piles of calculus and world history notes, I came across a short mini-play I'd written for my high school creative writing class. It made me laugh.

When I'd gotten out of college, there was a certain feeling that I was at the top of my game in terms of writing skill. I now realize that my high-school self was at the over-the-top of his game. Oh High-School Self, how wonderfully absurd you were.

I wasn't very good with titles, though. The title for this piece was, quite simply, "Creative Writing: First Play." How utilitarian. But without further ado, for your reading pleasure, I present my high-school play:

Characters
Dr. Kilborne
Mr. Peonei

A vast desert, barren except for a few desert plants. A thin strip of asphalt cuts through the expanse, serving as a highway. A large, black Humvee sits parked on the side of road. Next to the vehicle grows a single Joshua tree, surrounded by shrubs. The sun beats down upon the area from overhead, scorching the earth.
As a large pickup truck comes down the highway, the Humvee’s single occupant, Dr. Kilborne, opens his vehicle’s door and steps out into the sun. He tosses the hardcover book in his hand, Advanced Nuclear Physics, onto the Hummer’s seat, and readjusts the position of his eyeglasses. He is dressed in a white lab coat and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
The truck pulls up and parks behind the Humvee. Peonei, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, steps out of the truck and walks over to Kilborne.

Kilborne: (checking his watch) It’s about time.

Peonei: Sorry I’m late, but these directions you gave me were awfully confusing. What’s up with all of these circling routes?

Kilborne: (scans the area with his eyes) They were a necessary precaution, just in case you were followed.

Peonei: (scratches his head) Um... okay. So, do you have the merchandise?

Kilborne: (lowers his voice to a whisper and leans toward Peonei) Not so loud, you fool! Who knows who may be listening?

Peonei: (looks around) What? There’s nobody here.

Kilborne: (nervously scratches his neck) Quiet down! Just be quiet! The object you requested is in the Hummer.

(Kilborne and Peonei walk to the Humvee. Kilborne unlocks the trunk hatch and opens it. Inside is a large, curved, metallic object, which takes up the Hummer’s entire cabin space.)

Kilborne: Here it is. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to slip this through the government lab’s security. Fortunately, we nuclear physicists get relatively high security clearance.

Peonei: It looks impressive. How much will you be charging for this thing, exactly?

Kilborne: (takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his hands clean) I’ll let you have it for thirteen.

(Peonei fishes out a few crumpled bills from his pocket and hands them to Kilborne.)

Kilborne: What’s this? Thirteen dollars? Do you think that’s funny? I meant thirteen million, you jerk!

Peonei: (eyes widening) Thirteen million?! Har-har. That’s a pretty lame joke, mister. Really, how much is it?

Kilborne: (voice raising) Don’t yank my chain, you little punk! If you aren’t prepared to pay for it, don’t bother looking at it! Hydrogen bombs aren’t exactly easy to come by, you know.

Peonei: (shocked) Hydrogen bomb?! What the...

Kilborne: (calms down slightly) Well, granted, it isn’t the best one in the world. You can’t expect too much. After all, I had to build this from pieces of scrapped equipment in my secret lab. But, at thirteen million, it’s still a bargain!

Peonei: (yelling nervously) Why are you trying to sell me a bomb?! Sweet mother of mercy, are you mad?!

Kilborne: (confused) You told me over the phone that you wanted a weapon of mass destruction didn’t you? What do you want if for, anyway?

Peonei: Weapon of mass destruction?! Are you insane?! I wanted something to kill cockroaches with! I’m a janitor for goodness sake!

Kilborne: (suddenly becomes quiet) Oh... oops.

(Kilborne turns around and looks at the Joshua tree.)

Kilborne: I now see the error of my ways. A world in which janitors can go about blowing up people into tiny bits is frightening indeed. Yes, from this day forth, no more shall I sell weapons on the black market! (stops to think) On the other hand, that little unkempt fellow I spoke with the other day seemed to be quite willing to pay top dollar for that cruise missile...

(Peonei lays down in the dirt and cries.)