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ACT 1
Summertime, under the big neon glow of moon-green cheese. Verily, here there is sanguine circumstance; specifically, a large intestine completely ulcerated and inflamed--a 41 year old man named Patrick, suffering from asymmetrical balding and a pale, vampire-like glow of the epidermis due to extreme blood loss, it crafting iron-deficiency anemia throughout his withered physiology, uses his Kerouac-like thumb to hitch his way across the Blue-Ridge Parkway, ultimately gaining magnanimous transport to THE ABBEY OF GETHSEMANI, which is mostly occupied by Catholic Monks under the divine influence of Saint Benedict and the Living Christ. Once there, within the pastoral geography of whiskey-luv'n Kentucky, Patrick slowly exits the vehicle, but not before giving his last George Washington to the mysterious driver. Next, Patrick approaches the Holy House; then, drops to the star-kissed ground, finding a state of unconsciousness.
A Slow-Motion Zombie, Patrick is dead in his dreams, though resurrected into the cognizant realm, awaking upon modest sheets in a petite room offering symbols of his Lord and Savior. There is an elderly man with kind, blue eyes hovering over him--this holy relic of an elderly man is armed with a cold wash cloth. He is patting Patrick's steamy countenance.
PATRICK
Am I alive sir?
BROTHER JOHN
You are son. What brings you here?
PATRICK
The mercy of Christ, sir.
BROTHER JOHN
Please--call me Brother John.
PATRICK
Okay, Brother John.
BROTHER JOHN
We had a former Army Medic, a novitiate here, take a look at you. He says you're dehydrated and might be anemic. Found plenty of blood in your trousers. What ails you son?
PATRICK
A demon. Succubus possibly--has being haunting me since my adolescence. Too, the name's Patrick.
BROTHER JOHN
Father Kelty, who kind of runs the show around here, has called an ambulance for you. It is on its way, having synergy with prayers from the other Monks.
PATRICK
An ambulance--I need Christ, not doctors.
BROTHER JOHN
Physicians are much like Christ. Healers as well.
PATRICK
But they cannot purge a soul from diabolical taunting.
BROTHER JOHN
No man save Christ is all things. Just let them help you son . . .
