SETTING: The Kotel (The Wailing/Western Wall) in Jerusalem, Israel

TIME: On the eve of Shabbat, late Friday

PEARL, 33, Unorthodox Chassidic Abba donning blue and white tzitziyot. His sleeves are rolled up.

Inspired by the life of Daniel Pearl, renowned Journalist who garnered international outcries when he was kidnapped (and summarily murdered) in Karachi, Pakistan by Mooslim extremists.

SCENE:

Soft highlight on a wooden chair with a single sheet of paper resting upon it. Stage background depicts the Jerusalem landscape. Silhouette of PEARL standing as he davens, his back toward the audience. Cantoring.

Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohanu Adonai Echad!

[TRANSLATION spoken]
Hear O Israel: the L-rd is our G-d, the L-rd is one!

(PEARL turns around and faces audience representing THE KOTEL. He sits on a wooden chair.)

Davening is hardcore. Don't let any emo-softy tell you otherwise. It's like being on the frontline of a Ramones concert, romper-stomping your neck-brace into a wretched pulp.

(PEARL stomps his foot three times, raising his fist.)

Oy! Oy! Oy! (Selah) I knew I shouldn't have dyed my peyos blue - from the plant, Indigofera Tinctoria. Yarmulke or no yarmulke, that is the question. Oi vey. Someone tell a joke. In juicy, shexy English. It's too chot for Hebrew not to stinking laugh. Like my circumcised tie? Pimpin' for Moshiach, baby!

(PEARL loosens tie and collar and wipes brow.)

Man alive! Someone prescribe me joy, please! Knock me out. Doctor. Abba. Is there a Rabbi in the house? This is ridiculous. What was Moses thinking? Land flowing with milk and honey. Please. Please. What do I know? About Women. Ribbetzen.

(PEARL shivers, then gets a pen from his polo shirt pocket and writes.)

Bubbe:

If your eyelids get heavy,
Remember: Who lifts the veil
And rouses men to their knees
There's a mansion with acoustic intimacy
Beats so deep
You shudder in slow-mo to this
Virtual Jordan jacuzzi
Ritual of catchy waves
On our bed, swaying,
What would be my profession
Abba? Security? Friend?
You stand on
A towering remnant,
Nose to Psalms 2,
Anticipating the pregnant cloud
Envelop you as a city acquires New...

Reasoning with the Mrs. It's like talking to a wall. Made out of pure, Jerusalem stone. My Sabra. My Bubbeleh. My J.A.P. Let me tell you something. Top secret. C'mon. Come closer. I promise not to propose over email or text message again from the ends of the earth. The Sanhedrin would stone me for this, like stealing a Kosher kiss...

(PEARL looks around, licks lips, leans forward, takes off his yarmulke revealing what's underneath, and whispers.)

'¦Velcro, the way to go.

First? My first memory'¦ wwwwasn't Abba's combat boot to Mama's temple. Ouch. No. It was shortly before I could tie bloody shoelaces. Under their sky blue sheets I awoke to moonlit shadows on a creamy wall looming over me, as the Heavens being rended. A silent heartbeat steady as techno thunder. Like live streaming video of a messy cesarean section. Thankfully. With no subtitles.

I laughed. I cried. It was better than Cats. That's how I want to be remembered. Oscar-worthy, like River Phoenix doing a face-plant on Sunset Boulevard. Sad. How he mourned. On grainy celluloid. Like an orphan. Like my unborn son, Eliyahu Adam, clothed in sackcloth because his Momeleh found out we had tumors the size of lemons. Land flowing with milk and honey. Abba was too weak to schlep over to this ancient wall, so he ripped his ephod, stripped himself naked in the Comfort Room and wailed, "HAVE RACHAMIM ABBA!" against the cold, blue tiles like a cry-baby, downing water, laced with cigarette ashes to the very bottom of a stale, Snapple bottle. Anything to absolve him from his grave, forgivable sins.

Payback for all the times I religiously adhered to the law, You see. To this day, I even signal - parking into my driveway late at night with not an enemy in sight. Besides, I've got a lawyer for a neighbor. Even though we race to see who gets out of the driveway last on workdays, even though we're the eldest son burdened by vintage suits and fat bellies, even though we both can't stand mowing the lawn and lonely sabbaths, even though I don't care for black clothing (except for my hoodie and radio-friendly Depeche Mode) or designer labels: we're cool, totally kosher.

Hey! Save the kleenex for Golgatha, will Ya? And tissue paper the Prime Minister's ranch while you're at it. I've got beef with that punk-schmuck. Don't worry. I'll keep it Kosher while I give him a worthy smackdown. Strictly Shabbat. Where was that porker on Yom Kippur? During Eliyahu's circumcision. From me. His.

Abba. I'm not asking for Your pity. A party would be nice. (Raises invisible wine glass.) Open bar mitzvah. Unlimited goat cheese. Hummus galore. (drunk, slurring his words) For my son, Eliyahu! Mmmmmmazel tov!

(Shakes head, sobering up.)

Ever notice how American teenagers pronounce Torah? It's as if they're reciting Hatikvah after overdosing on valium. Imported from eretz Yisroel, of course.

(PEARL recites a Hebrew blessing for salvation in a bored, American accent.)

Baruch ata Adonai Elohanu Mehlech ha Olam,
Asher nathan lanu et derech ha Yeshua
B'Mashiach Yeshua baruch hu ameyn.

[TRANSLATION spoken]:
Blessed are You, L-RD our G-d, King of the universe,
Who gave to us the way of salvation
Through the Messiah Yeshua, blessed be He. Amen.

(PEARL sticks his thumb out, motioning as a hitchhiker.)

First class El Al ticket to New Yerushalayim, please. No turning back now. What's done is done. Finished. If only Aaliyah heeded the drunk pilot's warnings. Vos? G-d-forbid anyone see me on MTV grinding with sand dunes in a spaghetti bikini.

(Music up. Accelerating. PEARL dances uproariously to fast-paced Israeli Klezmer music, singing along unashamedly.)

Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai, Dai... HEY!

Can you believe it? I was just pulled over by a cop for speeding, only a minute from my Tabernacle - in my own hometown! Man, I am pissed. There's a difference between generic humiliation and admonishment; the former flexed like a bully, further fueling my belief that uprooting devout Jews from their homes by force is messed up. Like my Sephardic neighbors in Hevron and Amona always say, "We're here to thtay!" Ameyn and ameyn to that.

(PEARL kneels.)

Could you pray any louder? Jesus! Get to know MeShiach! It doesn't hurt to ask. Even better to have kneepads handy. And gauze. Just in case a German Shepherd of a lady asks a ragamuffin soldier like me to do a Night Watch. Again. At two in the morning no less. Sure. No sweat! Spare some nodos?

There's a banner posted on top of the Mount of Olives, Zion. It reads:

(PEARL unveils a dry erase board from beneath his chair.)

SPECIAL BLESSING FOR THE WATCHMAN ON DUTY WHEN THE MOSHIACH APPEARS - IN THE AIR!

Bought this dry erase board for the rallies against disengagement. At the Jerusalem Mega-Mall. It's really handy, this placard. I think I downloaded an efficient trend from Abba Father that's gonna spread like a massive dreidel, shaking throughout Israel, decked out in light blues: blue shrouds, blue ribbons, blue placards, blue wristbands, blue graffiti, blue Mohawks, blue olives, blue stars, blue pearls... not to mention my rainbow-orange kippah. It'll be my signature. You can write slogans as they're being proclaimed over boomboxes, like "Gush Katif Forever!" "Hashem Is Watching!" "Not 1 Inch!" and ELIYAHU:

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

(PEARL stands up as he folds the prayer sheet and places it on the wooden chair.)

Abba, the black sun is setting. Time's up.

(PEARL removes yarmulke and grips it, gently placing it atop the folded prayer sheet.)

For Eliyahu. Adam. Pearl. Looks like rain. Todah Abba! Shabbat Shalom.

(PEARL bows, then turns from the audience ' THE KOTEL - and lights a single cigarette. He faces upstage behind the chair.)

(Lights slowly fade as PEARL sings the Hebrew alphabet, smoking.)

Aleph Bet/Gimel Dalet/He Vav/Zayin/Chet Tet Yud/Kaph Lamed/Mem Nun Samekh/Ayin/Pe Tsade/Qoph Resh/Sin Shin/Tav/Pe Tsade/Qoph Resh/Sin Shin/Tav'¦

(PEARL drops lit cigarette.)

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