George Washington comes to life

Of course, I'm talking about the play George Washington Ate My Homework, not the first president of the United States (although that would be pretty awesome too!). My time travel comedy just received its world premiere at Sacred Heart School in Mount Holly, NJ. And that makes this the play's first production photo.

You can see the fun they had creating the costumes (click on the photo to get a bigger view). From left to right, we have:

• Pirate (either Mary Read or Anne Bonny)
• H. G. Wells
• The other pirate
• Albert Einstein (love the hair!)
• The three kids at the center of the story (Junie, Naomi and Warner, although this production changed Junie to John)
• Grace Hopper
• Cleopatra
• Joan of Arc

The only historical figures missing from this picture are Florence Nightingale and old George himself.

When my publisher accepted the play last February, they'd asked for two changes. The first was to get rid of the scene at the end in which the audience members get to vote for their favorite historical figure. The problem was that this drove a dizzying array of alternate endings which made the play a lot more complicated without much payoff.

The second was to bump ip the urgency of the kids' efforts to return the historical figures to their respective time periods. The story made it clear that when the students accidently timeported George Washington into the wrong era, they messed up American history so badly that our country was no longer American. It was British!

Obviously, the students had to figure out how to timeport him back. But there was no deadline--what we in the writing biz call a "ticking clock"--and therefore no tension. 

Fortunately, in reviewing the script, I found a natural spot to add one. It was when the quite possibly mad scientist who runs the lab, Dr. Bizwang, drops by to pick up his telescope. By some miracle, the kids manage to keep the historical figures hidden from his prying eyes, and the scientist finally departs with these words:

DR. BIZWANG: All right. You can stay down here as long as you want. Just make sure to lock up when you're done.

No ticking clock. No urgency. No tension.

Big yawn.

So I changed it to this:

DR. BIZWANG: All right then. You can stay a little longer. Just make sure you clear out by nine o'clock. That's when my killer robot begins his nightly rounds.

Boom! Just like that, they have a deadline. And I do mean "dead" line.

Of course, once I'd mentioned the killer robot, then I had to show it. Chekhov's gun, you know.

So that's how I ended the play. Instead of a long, confusing interaction with the audience, I have a very brief, very funny scene in which the robot glides into the lab, checks to make sure that the place is empty, then proceeds to jam out to a tune on the boombox.

Normally, Pioneer doesn't like to have characters with no speaking lines. But in this case, it works well because it provides the perfect role for a surprise guest to pop in and steal the show with his dancing skills (or lack thereof).

That's exactly what Sacred Heart School did, casting their beloved fifth grade teacher Mr. Botello in the role. And from all reports, he was a big hit.

The best part? No lines to memorize!

To check out the script yourself, be sure and visit the play's web page. And tell them the killer robot sent you.