2004 - Vol. 1, Issue 3

PETUNIA: age 23, a cultural "hottie" — tall, thin, and beautiful.

CAT: her therapist, Late thirties to any age.

PETUNIA: Dr. Cat, am I a failure as a woman?

CAT: You're asking whom?

PETUNIA: You.

CAT: Why me?

PETUNIA: Because you're prosperous, beautiful, and your office is bigger than my apartment.

CAT: Look harder, Petunia. You don't know what my bills are, or how little is left after paying them.

PETUNIA: Where should I look?

CAT: Try the newspapers. What is the ratio of rent to the average salary? What is the ratio of men’s salaries to women's? Your feeling of failure is mass produced, honey.

PETUNIA: My average salary right now is zero. And models my age make—

CAT: Is that what you want to do with your life?

PETUNIA (hesitating): No. I hate being evaluated for my looks in every damn situation. Ducking rejection by spending on the right make-up and clothes, and being left with almost no food. What am I? A masochist?

CAT: No, a person exercising social self-defense. Want to stop?

PETUNIA (pausing): Yes.

CAT: Ask who holds the whip. Who's giving the orders?

PETUNIA: Guys twice as big and loud and rich as me. Not always guys--

CAT: You ran into that on your last job, right?

PETUNIA: My boss told me to fire someone because of his disability. So I did.

CAT: And what happened?

PETUNIA: I got fired when the guy sued. I would have sued for wrongful termination, too, but I figured I'd never get work again.

CAT: Your call.

PETUNIA: Bad call.

CAT: So why did you make it?

PETUNIA: I was scared. Don’t you understand?

CAT: Is this your first time in a therapist's office?

PETUNIA: What does that have to do with anything?

CAT: Expectations.

PETUNIA: Yes. It's my first time in therapy.

CAT: What do you think I can do for you? Or should do for you?

PETUNIA: Give me a soul.

CAT: Why do you need one?

PETUNIA: Right now I feel like reflections of Vogue Magazine floating in a putrefied pond.

CAT: Who made the mirror? Who tore the pieces?

PETUNIA: All right, I'm one of many. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Or less blaming? Or able to turn off the TV?

CAT: Good insight. Want some more?

PETUNIA: At what this is costing? Are you kidding?

CAT: Pretend you're a cat.

PETUNIA (pausing): Excuse me?

CAT: People don't know a thing about relationships.

PETUNIA (short pause): Each of my parents has been divorced twice. And I'm still waiting. . . .

CAT: Do cats even get married? Or work for other people? Or demand souls?

(THE THERAPIST LASHES HER TAIL.)

PETUNIA: What are you doing in that costume?

CAT: It’s not a costume.

PETUNIA: Are you crazy?

CAT: Feel my skin.

PETUNIA: Oh, my God. You're--

CAT: Do cats ever lie?

PETUNIA (looking at the wall): But how did you get all those degrees?

CAT: This is an appearance-obsessed society. I just kept my tail tucked and dressed for success.

PETUNIA: That's what I thought I was doing.

CAT: Perhaps you've been more honest than you know.

PETUNIA: Is my face that readable? If it is, no one will ever hire me!

CAT: The last thing cats worry about is facial readability.

PETUNIA: Because no one will ever trust me.

CAT: Arch your back.

PETUNIA: I'll end up in an alley... no offense--

CAT (laughing): Arch your back.

PETUNIA: Excuse me?

CAT (hissing): Quiet, now, and arch... your... back!

(PETUNIA ARCHES HER BACK.)

CAT: Now hiss.

PETUNIA: Got a Kleenex?

CAT: No. Now hiss!

(PETUNIA HISSES.)

CAT: Now watch me walk. And follow me. Visualize your next meal, next lover and feel complete within yourself.

PETUNIA: Should I pose, too?

CAT (springing onto the desk): Good idea.

PETUNIA (springing): It's hard work being a cat.

CAT: Pain is largely in the memory. Do we dwell on yesterday's rat? Much less go to the trouble of a law suit?

PETUNIA: But there are diseases out there.

CAT: Sane decisions come out of a rising soul. A believing one. In ancient Egypt, we made ourselves gods. Pose!

(PETUNIA DOES SO.)

Now spring!

(PETUNIA DOES SO.)

Now walk, and picture choosing your partner.

PETUNIA: I can't. I can't see that. All I see is getting older and lonelier and poorer.

CAT: You clearly need some help with visualization.

PETUNIA: I failed at this, too?

CAT: Pose, spring and walk like a cat instead of going to the gym. See only yourself. You do have a mirror?

PETUNIA: I... hide them.

(CAT LASHES HER TAIL.)

I'll... retrieve them.

CAT: And there are other visual aids. (SHE GOES TO HER CABINET AND GETS SOME VIDEOS.) "Clear Sight in the Dark". That's a great Hitchcockian mystery, and guess who stars? "Momcat vs. Tomcat", my doctoral thesis repudiating Freud. "Sex and the Kitty".

PETUNIA: I’ll watch them every night.

CAT: Dont just watch! (CHEERLEADING A RELUCTANT PETUNIA) Pose, spring and walk! Pose, spring and walk! (FINALLY, WITH PETUNIA AND HOPEFULLY PART OF THE AUDIENCE) Pose, spring and walk! When you're in charge, every day is a cat walk! (CAT HANDS PETUNIA AN APPOINTMENT CARD. PETUNIA HESITATES, THEN EXITS WITH HER CARD. CAT, TO THE AUDIENCE) See you next week.

FADE TO BLACK