A stagehand enters, dressed in black, focused on the iPhone that she/he/they is/are carrying onto the stage. The stagehand sets the iPhone down on a central spot, gives the audience a look of importance, and exits. If it is not the most advanced iPhone, it is simply important that the stagehand believe it to be the newest and most expensive member of the iPhone empire and treat it as such. Sacred light on the iPhone. Maybe some angelic music?
A human person enters through the lightning port of the iPhone. They are dressed like an average person in the Apple store nearest to the theatre. They seem as surprised by their entrance as the audience.
Human Person: Is this my iPhone, or am I its human?
Human Person attempts to get back into the lightning port, instead pulls out a seemingly infinite number of iPhones, tablets, and laptops from their pockets, forming a stack of digital detritus.
Human Person: Repeating my question. Confused.
A Non-Human Person enters through the lightning port of one of the other devices. They look much like the human person except for one specific detail. Is it the inhuman glow of their skin? Is it the slightly unfocused look in their eye? Is it a slight robotic quality in their movements? Whatever it is, it is the only thing that separates them from Human Person. Human Person and Non-Human Person, who are standing six feet apart, look at each other. Human Person notices that Non-Human Person is not like them but ignores this out of politeness. They both nod in acknowledgement of their shared personhood. Human Person is happy to see another person, regardless of their humanity. Non-Human Person has learned that Human People like to be acknowledged and smiled at and so obliges. The two of them put their phones away and, maintaining their distance, step together into the back wall of the theatre, which has now become a computer screen. They instantaneously pop up onto the screen, just the two of them. Their projected/real faces turn to look at each other on the screen and touch hands through the boundary of their images.
(Remember those car commercials that ended with the whispered voice of the brand’s tagline ostensibly trying to beckon the viewer to purchase through the promise of speed? This next part should remind us of that.)
Voice, human or not: Zoom zoom.
Suddenly the Zoom screen begins to fill with twenty iPhones “looking around” at each other. They appear in gallery view. Some are old, some are new, some have cases to show individuality. The Brady Bunch theme song plays. The iPhones nod repeatedly, first in unison, then at their own tempos for some time. At just the right moment, Human Person and Non-Human Person reappear in the gallery view. They each reach through the screen frames and pick up one of the phones. They turn to each other while the images of the phones flicker.
Momentary darkness. (I mean a second of a blackout.) When the lights come back up, Human Person and Non-Human Person are standing in front of us, still six feet apart. They pull out their devices and dial. Sound of phones ringing. Both persons answer. We hear an undeniably human voice. First a few. Then hundreds. Then thousands. Then all of the human voices in the world, all at once. Spotlight on their faces and their personhoods.
End of Play.