Title: "The Riddle of Relief"
Scene: A cramped public restroom. GEORGE COSTANZA is pacing back and forth in front of a stall door, clearly in discomfort. The bathroom is unusually quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering above. The camera zooms in on his face as he mutters to himself.
GEORGE (under his breath, grimacing):
Come on, come on. Just let me in, please. I can't hold this anymore. Why does everything have to be so difficult? Why is the universe punishing me?
GEORGE looks at the restroom door. There's a sign on it that he’s never noticed before, a strange symbol with a riddle written underneath.
RIDDLE (on the door):
"To enter this stall, your bladder you must tame. Answer me this question—one word is your claim:
The more you have of it, the less you see. What am I?"
GEORGE (reading aloud, panicking):
What? What kind of riddle is this? I'm about to explode, and it wants me to answer a riddle? I just need to pee!
GEORGE looks around, no one else in sight. He stares at the riddle again.
GEORGE (mumbling to himself):
Okay, okay... The more you have of it, the less you see… What does that even mean? I’ve got to figure this out... It's simple... Focus, George. You know this. It's not that hard...
His mind races as he scans the restroom, desperate for inspiration.
GEORGE (suddenly loud):
Darkness! It’s darkness! The more darkness you have, the less you see! I’ve got it! It’s darkness!
GEORGE rushes forward to try the door. It doesn’t open.
RIDDLE (on the door):
"Incorrect! Try again, but beware—each wrong answer delays your release. The clock is ticking, George."
GEORGE (sweating, voice cracking):
What?! Incorrect? No, no, no, no, no! This is ridiculous! It’s darkness! Why isn’t this working? What do you mean, “delays my release”? I’m going to explode! This isn’t fair!
GEORGE slams his fist on the door, desperation turning to anger. He pauses, trying to calm down, then readies himself to think harder.
GEORGE (whispering to himself, eyes wide):
Wait... the more I have of it... the less I see... What else could it be? What could... wait... Oh no. It’s intelligence. The more intelligence you have, the less you see—because you’re overthinking everything!
He quickly tries the door again. It still doesn’t open.
RIDDLE (on the door):
"Incorrect again. Time is running out. Make haste, George."
GEORGE (near tears, voice high-pitched):
I don’t have haste! I need a toilet! I need to go! Why is this happening to me?!
A bead of sweat rolls down his face as he takes a deep breath, calming himself.
GEORGE (suddenly, with a calm resolve):
Okay, okay. This is it. It’s... a hole! The more you have of it, the less you see! A hole! The deeper the hole, the less you can see inside it!
He tries the door again, fingers trembling.
RIDDLE (on the door):
"Correct! Welcome to relief, George."
The door opens, and George rushes inside the stall, slamming it shut behind him. He quickly locks the door and collapses against it, sighing in pure, blissful relief.
GEORGE (in a deep sigh of relief):
Finally. I made it. I am a genius. This is the greatest victory of my life. They said I couldn’t do it, but I did it. I beat the riddle.
He takes a moment, but then his face drops as he looks at the door again. A new sign appears.
RIDDLE (on the door):
"Congratulations, George. But now, a new challenge awaits you. Exit this stall within one minute, or you will face the consequences. What is your next move?"
GEORGE (groaning, slumping against the door):
Of course. There’s always more. Why wouldn’t there be more? This is my life now, isn’t it? Trapped in a never-ending loop of puzzles and bodily functions.
END SCENE.
