The Guest's Appetite (Scene IV)

Drama

[Scene IV] SETTING: A dining room. Heavy velvet curtains. A mahogany table set for three. A chandelier of cut glass hangs low over the center. CHARACTERS: ARTHUR: Mid-50s. Wearing a dinner jacket that is slightly too tight. ELENA: Mid-50s. Wearing a silk gown. She holds a wine glass by the stem. THE GUEST: A silhouette that fluctuates in density. It does not possess a face, only a suggestion of a mouth where the darkness is most absolute. (The GUEST is currently leaning over the table. It is not eating the roast beef. It is slowly consuming the mahogany tabletop. The sound is a rhythmic, wet grinding.) ARTHUR: I really think the soup was a bit salty. I told you the reduction was too aggressive. ELENA: It was perfectly balanced, Arthur. You have always been sensitive to sodium. (The GUEST consumes the center of the table. The roast beef and the gravy boat drop into the GUEST'S interior. There is no splash. There is only silence.) ARTHUR: See? Now the table is exposed. I told you we should have used the linen cloths. The mahogany is far too porous for this kind of company. ELENA: (Looking at the GUEST) I find the appetite quite refreshing. It is so rare to see a guest truly engage with the environment. (The GUEST begins to eat the silverware. The forks and knives vanish as the GUEST slides its form across the remaining wood.) ARTHUR: (Checking his wrist) Those were the heavy-gauge sterling; my mother's set. I hope it appreciates the weight. Cheap silver has a tinny aftertaste. ELENA: Do you think it finds the pattern too ornate? I always felt the floral etching was a bit much for a Tuesday. (The GUEST shifts. It begins to consume the velvet curtains. The fabric is pulled into the void of its mouth with a sound like a sharp intake of breath. The windows are now exposed to a grey, featureless light.) ARTHUR: The draft is becoming quite noticeable. I should have checked the weather. Elena, do you feel a draft? ELENA: I hardly notice. I am more concerned about the chandelier. It is tilting. (The GUEST rises. It consumes the ceiling and the chandelier in one fluid motion. The light vanishes. The characters are now illuminated by a sourceless, dim glow.) ARTHUR: I suspect the lighting was too dim anyway. It didn't do the roast any favors. ELENA: It was atmospheric, Arthur. (The GUEST consumes the walls. The wallpaper peels away into the dark. The boundaries of the room disappear. There is no longer a house. There is only a black, infinite expanse. ARTHUR and ELENA remain standing, floating in a void, still positioned as if around a table that no longer exists.) ARTHUR: (Pause) I really do think we overdid the salt. ELENA: (Pause) I think the evening has been a triumph.