Proof of Godel's Incompleteness Theorem For Dummies
A man and woman stand on stage, with a third person standing between them, mouth open.
MAN: Behold! My newest invention! The Turing Recursive Universal Examiner 6000-B!
WOMAN (unimpressed): Sliced bread, look out.
MAN: Hush! The TRUE6000 is very sensitive to sarcasm. It analyzes statements for truth. Watch, I'll demonstrate how it works.
The man grabs a firm hold of the middle person's left ear, and the person's mouth shuts.
MAN (very loudly and well-enunciated): Abraham Lincoln died in 1865.
TRUE6000 (robotically): This statement is ... true. (mouth remains open)
The man beams proudly at his creation.
WOMAN: Here, let me try.
The woman grabs his right ear, and the mouth again closes.
WOMAN: I am a man.
TRUE6000: This statement is ... false. (mouth open)
MAN: Glad we cleared that up!
WOMAN (ignoring man and grabbing ear again): The first man on the moon was Neil Armstrong.
TRUE6000: This statement is ... true.
WOMAN (giggling): I'm beginning to like this guy!
TRUE6000: This statement is ... true.
WOMAN: Wait a minute .. I've got a great idea!
TRUE6000: This statement is ... false.
WOMAN (pause): "The TRUE6000 will never say this statement is true."
The robot begins whirring, endlessly, louder and louder, then finally crackles, pops, and shuts down.
MAN: But I don't understand! You broke it!
WOMAN: Pretty simple paradox. If it says it's true, then it's contradicting the statement. If it says it's false, then it's just lying to itself.
MAN: That may be true, but if it never blew up, it would never answer, and then the statement would be true: he never would say it was true!
WOMAN (patting man on the back): That's why we came down out of the trees.
MAN: To blow up robots with riddles?
WOMAN: To examine the gap between proof and truth!
MAN: Oh. Fair enough. So, fancy some coffee?
WOMAN (imitating TRUE6000): This statement is true.
The One Millionth Customer
A man walks into a building, and up to a woman behind a counter, smiling pleasantly, apparently waiting for business.
MAN: Hi, um, yes, I'd uhh .. er, like one of the ..
WOMAN: The usual, eh?
MAN: I .. I guess so, if that's what you call it.
Suddenly, a bunch of appreciative women run out on stage, clapping and cheering in a joyful celebration.
WOMAN: Well, what do we have here? Congratulations, sir, you're the bordello's one millionth customer!
MAN; One .. one millionth?
WOMAN (ignoring man): Ahh, it's like my old madam told me: you ain't nobody till your first million.
MAN (in slight horror): Oh dear God. You mean to tell me there's been nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine blokes here before me?
WOMAN: Well, it's certainly not like you're the first!
The girls all giggle knowingly.
WOMAN: Now quick, say cheese! We're running a full page ad in one of the local trades!
One girl takes a quick picture of the shocked gentleman.
WOMAN: So what'll it be now? The usual, you said?
MAN (still clearly disturbed): Oh, sweet Jesus, but .. a million .. how can I enjoy it now?
WOMAN: Oh, well this one's on the house, dearie.
MAN (suddenly changing to a very reasonable gentleman): Oh, right. Can I get a tag team then?
WOMAN: Did you hear that girls? We just got our million and first customer, too!
Wild applause, exit all to pleasures unknown.
Man and woman are sitting at a table, eating dinner. We enter mid-conversation.
WOMAN: ...So really ambergris is really whale intestinal gunk. And we put it in our perfume!
The man pauses briefly and shudders, then resumes eating.
WOMAN: And also I read today that James Garfield was ambidextrous and could write in Greek in one hand and Latin in the other at the same time! Also ..
MAN: Ahem! Some of us are trying to eat here?
Woman's eyes narrow ever so slightly.
WOMAN (continuing with a hint of anger): I also read a lovely poem today by Poe, Annabel Lee, have you ever read it? Oh, and a fabulous article about that wine of his, Amontillado. Amazing stuff! Speaking of that, did you know that the word amaze comes from the Swedish word masa meaning lazy?
MAN (exasperated): No, and if I'd known you were going to read that bloody encyclopedia from cover to cover, I never would've bought it! Abacuses, Africa, ambergris, how long will it take you to finish the damn things? I mean, really, where are you!?
Suddenly, the man stops. He begins to choke, gags violently, and collapses to the floor, dead.
WOMAN: Funny you should mention that. I stopped on 'Arsenic', just in time for dinner.
Woman grabbing imaginary book for a read.
WOMAN: What's next? Oo, Arson! We'll simply have to give this one a go now, won't we, dear? ...
Six chairs are arranged side by side and three deep center stage. Four people are sitting in the back four chairs. The front two chairs are empty. From stage left, a woman enters, while from stage right, a man enters. They both sit down.
MAN: So ... what's your name?
WOMAN: Katrina, yours?
MAN: I'm Anthony.
The two people in the very rear begin simulating the noises a roller coaster makes as it begins its way up a hill. The middle two laugh quietly. All six begin to lean back in unison.
MAN: So, our first date.
WOMAN (shyly): Yeah. Exciting.
A brief, awkward pause as the two stare at each other.
MAN: I'm sorry! I was just caught up in your .. in your eyes.
WOMAN: Oh, the feeling is completely mutual.
The six continue to lean back more and more, the noises begin to slow down. The noise comes to a complete stop, the people straighten out, and one second later (comic timing essential) one of the middle two "passengers" puts their arms up, awaiting the impending plunge. Suddenly, the two in the back made a loud whooshing noise imitating the roller coaster descending, and all six lean backward, reacting to the ride. The middle two hoot and holler accordingly.
MAN (yelling over the others): This can't be real! I've only known you for two months, but I feel like I've known you all my life!
WOMAN: I know what you mean! It's crazy, but I think I love you!
MAN: I love you, too!
The roller coaster continues its bumpy ride, curving left and right and going over a few more hills (the wilder the better). All six people react appropriately.
MAN: I'm sorry I didn't call! Work as usual!
WOMAN (feigning happiness): It's okay, I guess! I understand!
The ride now slows, and once again the two in the back begin making the noises of a rising hill. The slow leaning back resumes.
MAN: Look, I don't see what the big deal is, I have to work late, and she's my assistant!
WOMAN: What about the flowers. Tony?!
MAN: Quit overanalyzing everything!
WOMAN: And the phone calls ...? Besides, it's not like you're going anywhere in that dead end office.
MAN: Why are you trying to hurt me?
Once again, they've reached the top. They take the plunge.
MAN: Look, I don't think this is working out!
WOMAN: Fine! Run to your little girlfriend! Run away!
MAN: Don't blame this on me! You smothered me!
WOMAN: Well, you won't worry about that anymore! We're through!
Ride finishes the plunge and comes to an abrupt stop. Man and woman get out of their chairs and walk off stage.
MAN IN SECOND ROW (softly): Whoo! Again, again!
Heaven is a Dance Party
Three people are on stage, dancing idly, and more generally mingling about, chatting. One of the men on stage is bent backwards as obscenely as possible. One woman enters stage left and begins weaving her way through an imaginary crowd.
WOMAN: Excuse me, excuse me ...
The woman arrives at the other people on stage.
MAN: Hey! New to the party?
WOMAN: I .. I guess so. Where am I? One minute I was driving to work, and now I'm here. Is this a dream?
MAN: Well ... not quite: welcome to heaven, here's your party hat!
The man straps on the party hat to her with a firm snap, then blows a party favor at her.
WOMAN: Heaven? But, I thought .. you know, harps and Pearly Gates and halos ..
MAN: Pssh. This is the 21st century. We got a reprieve from all of that cherub choir stuff. So the Big Guy built us these pin heads for us socialites.
WOMAN: Huh. So, how many of us can fit on here?
MAN: 300. Fire code. So, you wanna dance?
WOMAN: Well ..
Man grabs woman and they begin to dance an exaggerated tango, spins and dips included. The woman is tense at first, but begins to enjoy herself.
WOMAN (pointing to the bent over men): So what's up with that guy?
MAN: Leroy? Oh, he just got out of limbo last week.
WOMAN: And what about all the people in my carpool? Did they all make it up here?
MAN: I'm sure they did ...
Two people, a man and a woman, enter stage right and stand off from the group.
WOMAN: Where ... where am I?
MAN: Welcome to Circles of Hell Mud Wrestling! "Abandon all soap, ye who enter here!" Just kidding, folks, but seriously, here's your hairnet and your jumpsuit. First match in thirty minutes! Let's have a good clean fight! Ha! I kill myself!
The Case of 219 Baker street
Two men are dragging another MAN off the stage as two other men remain on stage, watching the proceedings.
MAN: You'll be sorry, Holmes! Mark my words!
(Exit Man, followed by a brief pause.)
DR. WATSON: Well, you've done it again, my dear Holmes. Tell me, how did you know that our next-door neighbor Mr. Haverston, was in fact Terry Staterbridge, the famed Shropshire Slasher?
HOLMES: Why, elementary, my dear Watson: Haverston isn't Staterbridge at all.
(Watson does a classic double take.)
WATSON: What did you say? 'Not Staterbridge at all"?
HOLMES: Of course not, don't be silly.
WATSON: But, but you just gave all of that information to the policemen, proving that no one but Haverston could've done it? The German stopwatch, the monocle, the shoe polish!
HOLMES: Made it all up.
WATSON: Made it all up!? But why!?
HOLMES: To be honest, he was a perfectly awful neighbor.
WATSON: Awful neighbor? What the devil do you mean?
HOLMES: Well, he's got that yippy dog that won't ever shut up when I'm practicing my violin. And remember that one time he borrowed my deer-stalker cap? Said it was for a party. I haven't seen it since!
WATSON: And so you framed him for a crime he didn't commit?
HOLMES: Well, really, Watson, it's not like he didn't deserve this, the way he's been acting lately.
WATSON: Didn't deserve it? What about the REAL Shropshire Slasher, what does he deserve?
HOLMES: Hmm. Hadn't thought about that.
WATSON: I'd thought not.
(Holmes contemplates briefly, smoking his imaginary pipe.)
HOLMES: Well, only one thing to do.
WATSON: Go tell the police what you've done?
HOLMES: Heavens, no! Do I look the fool? We must find the real Shropshire Slasher, kill him, and hide the body, before the police suspect something. Quickly, Watson, grab my jacket! The game's afoot!
(Exit Holmes, with Watson left standing in abject silence.)
I imagine a bit of the Monty Python flair will sell this one well. For TenMinJoe's Gone in Sixty Seconds - A Theater Quest. In my three timings (and reading somewhat quickly), I got about 72 seconds. I hope it can make the cut, I figured I'd let you be the editor, TMJ.