SIDE #1 - ANGEL of DEATH and JOHN
ANGEL: So, how are we today?
JOHN: Well, I'm... I'm a bit confused.
ANGEL: Oh? And why's that?
JOHN: Well, your receptionist said... she said I'm dead.
ANGEL: Oh, no. She told you that?
ANGEL: I'm sorry. That was a mistake. She shouldn't have said that.
JOHN: You mean I'm not dead?
ANGEL: Oh, no, you're dead all right. It's just that I like to break that news to folks myself. It comes under the heading of "perks."
JOHN: So, I'm dead?
ANGEL: Deader than a raccoon at Davey Crockett's house.
JOHN: I died?
ANGEL: Yessiree. About forty-five minutes ago. You don't remember?
JOHN: Well, yes I do, but I was hoping it might have been a dream.
JOHN: You were there, weren't you?
ANGEL: Well, being the Angel of Death, I'm required to be there, yes.
JOHN: My God. Dead. Boy, I didn't see that comin'.
ANGEL: I know. I could tell by the look on your face.
JOHN: You probably see that a lot though, huh?
ANGEL: Yeah, but it never gets old.
JOHN: I can't believe this. I died all alone in my apartment. All by myself.
ANGEL: Yeah, that's sad. Now just put your last name first, first name last...
JOHN: That doesn't seem right. Nobody should die all alone like that. Nobody even heard my last words.
ANGEL: Oh, you mean the "Ah! Ooh! Eee!"? Is that what you mean?
JOHN: Was that it? Is that all I said?
ANGEL: That was it.
JOHN: Well, that's terribly humdrum.
ANGEL: Yeah, it wasn't Chaucer that's for sure. That reminds me. I've gotta call him. He's behind in his rent. Poets.
JOHN: Oh my God. Oh no!
JOHN: Who's going to find me?
ANGEL: What do you mean?
JOHN: My body. Who's going to find it?
ANGEL: I don't know. I don't do the future.
JOHN: But it was a Friday night, so no one at work will miss me until Monday. No, no. It's a long weekend. They won't miss me until Tuesday.
ANGEL: Ooh, that could be unpleasant.
JOHN: Oh no. My mother. What if it's my mother? I call her every Saturday morning like clockwork. If I don't call, she'll start to worry. And then she'll come over. She'll come in and find me.
ANGEL: How would she get in?
JOHN: She's got a key.
ANGEL: You gave your mother a key to your apartment?
JOHN: Well, we're very close.
ANGEL: Uh-huh. Now I know why your time was up.
JOHN: Is there... uh... is there any way that I can get a second chance?
ANGEL: Oh, I knew this was comin'.
JOHN: No, come on. I'll be a better person. I promise. I'll change.
ANGEL: Change what? You weren't a bad person.
JOHN: I wasn't?
ANGEL: No. In fact, you were pretty good. Remarkably good. (She looks at the forms again.) Let's see here. Good son. Good student all through school. Very dependable at work. Didn't drink. Didn't smoke. Didn't swear. (looks at JOHN) Really?
ANGEL: You'll do well up here. (She looks at the forms again.) Uh... you gave money to charities. You were a Big Brother. That's a nice organization.
JOHN: They do good work.
ANGEL: They sure do. Uh... wow.
ANGEL: It says your fiancée left you standing at the altar.
JOHN: That's right.
ANGEL: Just left you standing there like a snow shovel in July.
JOHN: Your metaphors need work.
ANGEL: They do, don't they? And it says you didn't even get angry.
JOHN: What's the point of getting angry?
ANGEL: Well, you hold all of that torment inside and after a while it begins to build. It bubbles around in there like a cauldron of fury. And then before you know it, you've got an aneurism.
JOHN: Is that what caused my aneurism??
ANGEL: I don't know. I'm just makin' this stuff up.
JOHN: All right, listen. Listen. Lemme go back and make amends to the people I've wronged.
ANGEL: What people? You didn't wrong anybody. You were a saint.
JOHN: Well, I must have wronged somebody.
ANGEL: Not a soul.
ANGEL: What's wrong?
JOHN: Well, I didn't make any waves. I didn't leave a mark.
ANGEL: You don't have to make waves to leave a mark, Don.
JOHN: Yeah. John.
ANGEL: (looks at her folder) Oh, so it is. Whew! Thought we got the wrong one there for a second.
JOHN: Ah-hah! Then it does happen.
ANGEL: What does?
JOHN: It happens. You take the wrong person by mistake sometimes.
JOHN: Come on, admit it. You do, don't you?
ANGEL: What are you talking about? How could we possibly take the wrong pers... all right every once in a while.
ANGEL: Every once in a great while. Rarely.
JOHN: But it happens.
ANGEL: Yes, it happens.
JOHN: And what do you do when you get the wrong one?
ANGEL: What do you mean what do we do?
JOHN: Well, do you just say "Sorry? Bad luck? Mea culpa?"
ANGEL: No, of course not.
JOHN: Well, what do you do?
ANGEL: All right, we send them back.
ANGEL: Will you stop saying "Ah-hah!"?
JOHN: Then you can give me a second chance. You can.
ANGEL: But we didn't make a mistake with you... (looks down at her papers) John.
JOHN: All right, how about this? Listen, listen. Just let me go back and die somewhere public.
JOHN: Seriously. At work maybe. Let me die at work. I really don't want my mother to find me. It will kill her.
ANGEL: What's her name?
ANGEL: Elizabeth. (looks down at her papers) Elizabeth Appleby.
ANGEL: Right. Adderly. Ahh... no it won't kill her.
ANGEL: I don't see her name on my list. Not for the next week anyway.
SIDE #2 - CASSIE and JOHN
JOHN: Is there a coffee shop we can go to?
JOHN: There's no coffee shop in the building?
CASSIE: I'd rather we just talked here, John. Okay? I have to keep my eye on things. I'm the outlet manager and if one of these morons messes up then it all comes back on me.
JOHN: Oh. Okay.
CASSIE: You have no idea how much pressure I'm under here.
JOHN: Really? The license plate sticker arm of the government is that rigorous is it?
CASSIE: It's a powder keg.
JOHN: Right. Well, all right. I guess we can talk here. Can we sit?
CASSIE: Fine. (They sit.) How did you find me?
JOHN: I... uh... I called around.
CASSIE: You called around? Spying on me, John? Is that what you were doing? Spying?!
JOHN: No. Why would I spy on you?
CASSIE: Are you stalking me?
CASSIE: Because I can have a couple of government gentlemen in dark suits pay you a visit and you'd never be heard from again. Do you understand what I'm saying?
JOHN: Cassie, I'm not stalking you.
CASSIE: You would disappear, my friend. Like you never existed.
JOHN: I understand. But, I'm not spying. Honest.
CASSIE: Well, you'd better not be.
JOHN: Boy. You seem a little paranoid.
CASSIE: I'm cautious. That's all. I'm cautious. There are a lot of people out there who would like to know what I know.
JOHN: ...About license plate stickers?
CASSIE: That's right.
JOHN: Uh-huh. So... you're a civil servant. That surprises me.
CASSIE: Why does that surprise you?
JOHN: Well, because Natalie... You remember Natalie?
CASSIE: Natalie who?
JOHN: Natalie Duffy. Your maid of honour. At our wedding?
CASSIE: Oh. Natalie. No, I don't see Natalie anymore. We don't talk.
JOHN: Why's that?
CASSIE: We just don't.
JOHN: But you were best friends.
CASSIE: Did you come here to talk about Natalie, John? Because I'd rather not talk about Natalie.
JOHN: No, I was just thinking that Natalie told me... that day. Our wedding day. You remember it was Natalie who told me that you weren't coming to the church.
JOHN: You sent her to tell me. Do you remember?
JOHN: Well, Natalie told me that you changed your mind about marrying me because you were afraid that marriage would get in the way of your career. You were going to go back to school and become a lawyer. A corporate litigator. At least, that's what Natalie said.
CASSIE: Get to the point, John. Do you have a point? What's your point?
JOHN: Well, you're working here in the license sticker place. What happened to becoming a lawyer?
CASSIE: It didn't work out.
CASSIE: Besides, I thought I could do more good here.
CASSIE: That's right. Do you know how many people go through here in a day? How many citizens I come in contact with? Huh? How many lives I affect? Hundreds, John. Hundreds. That makes me a very influential person. Very influential.
JOHN: Cassie, are you okay?
CASSIE: Of course, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?
JOHN: I'm just wondering. Where do you live now?
CASSIE: Why do you want to know where I live?
JOHN: No reason. I'm just making conversation.
CASSIE: Uh-huh. Well, I guess I can trust you. But you can't tell anyone else, you understand?
JOHN: I understand.
CASSIE: I have an apartment on the waterfront near Clarington Park.
JOHN: Clarington Park?
JOHN: Sorry. That's a nice area.
CASSIE: Yes, it is. It's very nice. And it's a very big apartment. There's nothing modest about it. It's very big. I'm doing very well.
JOHN: Well, I'm glad.
CASSIE: Is that why you came here? To find out if I'm down on my luck? A failure?
JOHN: No, not at all.
CASSIE: Because I'm not. I'm doing just fine.
CASSIE: Just fine, thank you very much.
JOHN: I'm glad. Really. Tell me something, Cassie. I've always wondered. What did you do on that day? Our wedding day.
CASSIE: You keep saying wedding day. It wasn't our wedding day, John. We didn't get married.
JOHN: Right. Well, then on that day when all of our friends and I were gathered at a house of worship waiting for a bride to show up. What did you do?
CASSIE: What do you mean, what did I do?
JOHN: Well, where did you go? Because I went to your house. I went to your house and you weren't there. I went to your house every day for the next week and you weren't there.
CASSIE: You went to my house every day?
JOHN: Every day.
CASSIE: Well, I left town right away. I didn't stay around.
CASSIE: You went to my house every day for a week?
CASSIE: Boy. You must have really loved me, huh?
JOHN: Well, I was going to marry you, Cassie, so yeah, I guess I did.
JOHN: So, where did you go? (CASSIE, lost in thought, doesn't answer.) Cassie?
JOHN: Where did you go?
CASSIE: Oh. Uh... My uncle has a cottage about two hours north of the city. I went up there.
JOHN: For how long?
CASSIE: A month. Maybe two. I don't remember. And then I went off to law school.
JOHN: How long did you stay there?
CASSIE: A month. Maybe two. I don't remember. I just found it so hard to concentrate on the work. There was so much... so much going on up here. (She points to her head.)
JOHN: What do you mean?
CASSIE: It was noisy. Very noisy.
JOHN: In your head you mean?
JOHN: Maybe that's why you changed your mind about marrying me. You were so happy with things the way they were. Maybe you thought that marriage would change that.
CASSIE: John, I really have to get back now. Maybe you should tell me what's on your mind.
JOHN: Uh, well...
SIDE #3 - DOCTOR, and JOHN
(DOCTOR enters. He sits at a table. He calls off to someone.)
DOCTOR: Miss? Could I get some more coffee please? And if possible, would you have any that hasn't been chiseled from the bottom of the pot? Thank you. You're very kind.
(JOHN enters and sits at the table with the DOCTOR.)
JOHN: Doctor? You've got to help me.
DOCTOR: John? Hi. What are you doing here?
JOHN: I need to talk to you.
DOCTOR: About what?
JOHN: Well, about my health.
DOCTOR: Aw geez. I'm having my lunch here, John. Gimme a break.
JOHN: Doctor, this is very important.
DOCTOR: How did you find me?
JOHN: Your nurse told me you were over here.
DOCTOR: Oh she did, did she? Well, that's it. I am going to can her sorry backside as soon as I'm done here.
JOHN: Doctor, I need to ask you something.
DOCTOR: What? What is it?
JOHN: You gave me a physical two months ago. Remember?
DOCTOR: Like it was yesterday. You know they don't put nearly enough corned beef in these sandwiches. Look at this thing. Is there a shortage of cow that I didn't hear about?
JOHN: Doctor, about my physical.
DOCTOR: What about it?
JOHN: Well, you gave me a clean bill of health, right?
DOCTOR: You're as healthy as a horse.
JOHN: Yeah, well, you know what? I don't think so.
DOCTOR: What do you mean?
JOHN: Well, I think you missed something.
DOCTOR: (He stifles a belch) Missed something? Impossible. I... (and grabs his chest.) Oh, I hope that's just heartburn.
JOHN: Doctor, I've got an aneurism.
DOCTOR: A what?
JOHN: An aneurism. An aortic aneurism.
DOCTOR: What do you know about aortic aneurisms?
JOHN: Quite a bit, actually.
DOCTOR: John, if you had an aortic aneurism you'd be dead.
DOCTOR: Look at this. Mustard. I said hold the mustard. (He looks around.) Where is that gum-snapping, hair-teasing, ring-on-every-finger waitress? (calling out) Hey? Pink!
JOHN: Doctor, would you listen to me please? I'm gonna die.
DOCTOR: Oh, you're not gonna die. I've made some mistakes in my life but you're not one of them. I'll tell ya, the first mistake I made was becoming a doctor. They say healing is a noble profession. Quite frankly, John, I don't care for sick people. I don't like being around them. I only got into this racket because the money was good. Of course that was before the government moved in. There was a time when I could charge and arm and a leg for... well for an arm and a leg. Not anymore. No, now I've got the government looking over my shoulder every time I say "Turn your head and cough." You want a shot?
DOCTOR: (taking out a flask) Bourbon. Two shots at lunch religiously. Takes the edge off. You seem edgy, John. What's the problem?
JOHN: I'm going to die.
DOCTOR: Ah, nuts. (He takes a drink.) This coleslaw is very moist. Extremely moist. I don't like that.
JOHN: Doctor, please. Listen to me. I can't die right now.
I can't. My life isn't finished yet. I'm not done with it.
DOCTOR: John, you're starting to sound a little hysterical.
JOHN: I am hysterical!
DOCTOR: All right, what makes you think you've got an aneurism?
JOHN: I just know. Trust me.
DOCTOR: Listen, John, self diagnosis is a slippery slope.
I'm sorry, did I spit on you there? I shouldn't try and say slippery slope with a mouthful of coleslaw.
JOHN: Doctor, you've got to get me into the hospital.
You've got to operate. Now.
DOCTOR: Operate? No, I don't operate anymore. Too risky. You lose somebody on the operating table and all of sudden it's "You left the forceps inside of him!
You killed him!" I tell you, if I had a nickel for every time I've heard that.
JOHN: All right then, get someone else to operate. Anybody. Please. I haven't got much time.
DOCTOR: (tapping his chest a couple of times) Boy, this sandwich is not sitting well with me at all.
JOHN: Doctor, I'm begging you. You have got to get me to a hospital. Immediately.
DOCTOR: ...Yeah. BMW.
JOHN: All right. That's it. Let's go.
(JOHN takes the DOCTOR by the arm and lifts him out of his chair.)
DOCTOR: What are you doing?
JOHN: We're going to the hospital. Now!
DOCTOR: Okay, wait. Wait. If you're that resolute about this, I'll call a friend of mine. A heart surgeon. I'll set something up for tomorrow and he'll give you a complete going over.
JOHN: No. It has to be today.
DOCTOR: But, I don't know if he's available today.
JOHN: Well, call him and find out.
JOHN: Yes, please. Right now. Please!
DOCTOR: All right. Fine. (He takes out his cell phone and sends a text message.) There's a wasted lunch hour.
JOHN: I'm sorry.
DOCTOR: Naw, that's okay. The corned beef was off anyway. At least that's what it feels like. (tapping his chest) Ooh. Sweet mother. Two more holes and he'll meet you at the hospital. 'Bout an hour and a half.
JOHN: Thank you. (He shakes the DOCTOR's hand.) Thank you very much.
DOCTOR: But, I'll tell you John, he's not going to find anything. I gave you a physical two months ago and I didn't find anything.
JOHN: Uh-huh. Well, he's a specialist so maybe he'll have a keener eye for the problem.
DOCTOR: Specialist. Right.
JOHN: Okay, I've got to run. Thank you again. Thank you.