*Editor’s note: What follows is a lightly edited version of the unpublished Samuel Beckett play “It Fell Behind the Washing Machine: A Tragedy In Three Acts.” Though it is unclear through historical records why this play had gone unpublished until now, in this editor’s opinion, it is because Mr. Beckett would have never, even in his darkest, most alcohol-adled times, wanted it to ever see the light of day… Anyways, here you go.

ACT I

HARRIETTA stands in her laundry room casually folding a basket of clean shirts. Her husband DIRTY DAN enters wearing only one sock and looking befuddled, but in no way alarmed or aware that his entire world is about to be shattered.

DIRTY DAN

Hey babe, have you seen my left sock anywhere? I’m late for racquetball practice and you know I can’t play without both my right AND left socks.

HARRIETTA

Yes I know. It was stinky so I put it in with the shirt laundry.

DIRTY DAN

Aww, thanks babe. You’re the best.

HARRIETTA starts sifting through the basket of shirts in search of DIRTY DAN’S left sock. Suddenly, her search turns frantic and she begins throwing shirts all over the room.

HARRIETTA

Oh no, merciful shit! It isn’t here!

DIRTY DAN

It isn’t?! Goddamn you, babe! You’re the worst! Where could it possibly have gone?

HARRIETTA

sullenly.

Where do you think it’s gone? It’s fallen! It’s fallen… behind…

HARRIETTA and DIRTY DAN slowly turn their incredulous gazes to the washing machine resting smugly behind them. After a moment, HARRIETTA begins to sob uncontrollably and DIRTY DAN falls to his knees to curse the Gods.

DIRTY DAN

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Blackout.

ACT II

HARRIETTA paces around the laundry room nervously as DIRTY DAN struggles in vain to pull the washing machine from its stubborn rooting. Finally HARRIETTA speaks.

HARRIETTA

Maybe it didn’t fall back there at all. Maybe I just forgot to wash it, it could be somewhere else.

DIRTY DAN

still struggling to move the washing machine.

Ha! That makes me laugh sarcastically, babe. Tell me, do you really believe there’s even a chance you would forget my LEFT sock of all things.

HARRIETTA

dejectedly.

No. Dammit, I know. I remember it clearly. Everytime I wash your left sock I take special care to study it carefully before gently kissing its sweat-reekin’ toes, and then placing it in the cool basin. It just wasn’t enough this time.

HARRIETTA sits and stares like a shell shocked WWI veteran as DIRTY DAN takes to trying to squeeze his entire body in between the washer and dryer to reach the forsaken sock. The LEFT sock.

DIRTY DAN

Well, I guess this is it then. If we can’t get my sock back then it’s all over. I’ll expect you to move out by tomorrow.

HARRIETTA

Yes. I knew this day would come. Maybe, subconsciously, I even lost the sock on purpose just to get it over with. But you’re right. We’re broken. We’re so broken!

DIRTY DAN

now smashing the side and top of the machine with a ball peen hammer. With each successive smash he screams one more word.

We! Are! So! Broken! The! Sock! Is! Just! A! Narrative! Device!

Blackout.

ACT III

Two spotlights frame each character. DIRTY DAN sits despondently with his back against the washing machine, and ineffectually taps the ball peen hammer on the floor still strewn with varied thrown shirts from back in ACT I. The only piece of clean clothing left in the house is the American Flag which HARRIETTA is draped in. She speaks directly to the audience.

HARRIETTA

proud as an embattled war widow.

Today, what is right is not left… anymore.

DIRTY DAN

Fuck my face.

DIRTY DAN pulls out a revolver and the spotlight goes out as he shoots himself in the head.

HARRIETTA

This was the inevitable end when some things lost cannot be recovered. Now, off I go. I will go alone… to the right.

Blackout. Also, may add one more gunshot noise here just for good measure.

THE END?

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