Ted Cruz: Republican senator from Texas
Abby: A struggling mother of two employed as a waitress
The Chorus: Senator Cruz’s toadies in the House of Representatives
Sergio: A busboy, offstage.
A restaurant foyer. Senator Cruz and the Chorus are headed out the door when Abby runs up behind them. She’s holding something.
Abby: Uh, Senator! Senator Cruz! One moment, sir.
Ted Cruz: Yes, what is it?
Abby: You tell me. What the fuck is this?
Voices from the Chorus: Say, now! You can’t speak to the senator like that! The unbridled nerve! Who is this commoner?
Abby: Back off, fellas. This is between me and the senator. (To Cruz) Well?
Ted Cruz: Well what?
Abby: Like I said before, what the fuck is this?
Ted Cruz: Well, I can’t be certain, but it looks like two United States dollar bills.
Abby: That’s EXACTLY what it is.
Ted Cruz (smugly): Then I’m glad I could help identify them for you.
He and the Chorus resume their exit.
Abby: Not so fast!
Ted Cruz (irritated): Miss, just what is the problem?
Abby: What is the problem? I’ll tell you what is the problem. The problem is I just waited on close to 20 of you for more than two hours and you left me a $2 tip.
Voices from the Chorus: Well, just get another job… Probably here illegally anyway… Doesn’t the restaurant pay her?… Service wasn’t that great, anyway… Only got three coffee refills myself… Harumph…Etc….
Ted Cruz (clearing his throat): Well, miss, I don’t see how your economic irresponsibility is any of our concern.
Abby: Oh, no?
Ted Cruz: No. Now you have a nice day.
A high keening wail rises. No one can figure out where it’s coming from, until they realize it’s coming from Abby. As they look on in horror, she seems to transform in front of them. Her eyes appear to glow red, and her face is drawn back into a fierce snarl. She advances on the group, heading straight for Cruz.
Ted Cruz (panicked): Now, miss, wait. I’m sure we can work this out in committee.
Abby: (inhuman snarling, gnashing sounds)
Voices from the Chorus: Oh, shit… I’m getting out of here… What about the senator?… Who cares? This is a meritocracy of the fittest…. And the closest to the exit…
Just then, a loud clunking noise is heard. The members of the chorus try to open the door. It’s locked. Abby, tossing aside an electronic key remote, continues to advance menacingly.
Ted Cruz (pleading): M-m-m-m-miss, please. Let’s be reason—
Before he can finish, Abby has leapt at his throat, sinking her teeth in up to his spine. A sound like a baby rabbit in distress issues from Senator Cruz as he crumbles, bleeding from the throat, to the floor. Abby turns to the Chorus.
Voices from the Chorus: We’re trapped… We’re all going to die!… I can’t die, my best years of being an asshole are in front of me… Wait, please!
But it’s too late. Abby lunges at the chorus members in an orgy of gnashing teeth and claw-like fingernails. In minutes they all lie dead or dying. A few muffled moans issue from the pile of bodies. Abby bends to retrieve the electronic key remote, aims it at the door, which issues a clunk as the lock opens. Abby steps over the bodies, opens the door and is just about to leave when she turns and calls back into the restaurant.
Abby: I’ll see you tomorrow, Sergio.
Sergio (offstage): See you tomorrow, Abby! Have a nice night.
Abby: I left a bit of a mess by the door, sorry.
Sergio: That’s OK. I’ll take care of it.
Abby: Don’t forget to lock behind me.
Sergio: You got it. See you tomorrow.
Abby exits. The lock clunks shut.