Moon Over Myers: A Play In One Short Act

(Scene: Chairman Reinsdorf's mansion in Winnetka. Pete Myers is in the driveway, putting a second coat of wax on Reinsdorf's Mercedes, when the sounds of the Alan Parsons Project's "Sirius" erupt from the cellphone in his pocket.)

PM: Hello?

Jamario Moon: Hey Pete. It's Jamario.

PM: Jamario! Roll Tide Roll! What's going on, young fella?

JM: Uh, not much. I'm calling because, uh, well...remember that advice you gave me before the playoffs?

PM: Of course: Focus more. Go hard. Carpe Diem, young Caesar.

JM: Riiight. Well, uh, it's not really working. At all. My minutes are down, my points are down, my field goal percentage has plummeted.

PM: Hmmm...you say your minutes are down? Does Sam Mitchell know how hard you're focusing?

JM: I think so. In the locker room before the game, I've been staring straight ahead, while scrunching my eyebrows down really tight.

PM: Excellent. But Sam hasn't said anything?

JM: Not really. He just asked me if I had to take a shit.

PM: Hmmm...And you've been going hard?

JM: Definitely.

PM: Any way for you to go even harder?

JM: I don't think so. I've really been giving it a 110%.

PM: Wow, that's a lot. But, y'know, there's always 111%.

JM: Huh, yeah. I guess so. I never thought of it like that before.

PM: Well, that's what I'm here for.

JM: You got anything else?

PM: (opens his palms up to the sky, dropping his cellphone into the bucket of dirty, soapy water.)