[We revisit The Theory of Everything (2000) for this week's monologue pick. The character is Hiro, a 41-year-old, Japanese-American, Las Vegas resident who immigrated to America at the age of 26. He speaks with an accent:]
(HIRO stands, facing the audience.)
HIRO: Every, uh, Friday we drive over state line into Baker, California. They sell, um, California Super Lotto tickets there.
"It could happen to you." "You have to play to win." "Who's next?"
People, uh, tell me it's, uh, impossible. They say I never won anything, no matter what I do. I hardly ever have, um, matching numbers at all, and I'm laughed at because I so, uh, unlucky. But that Baker drive happen every week, no matter what weather.
Sometimes I get Quick Pick and let machine pick numbers. Sometimes I play the birth dates of my cats. Sometimes I play numbers that come to me in my nightmares.
People, uh, they say I waste my money, waste my time. Driving all the way to Baker to get, um, little piece of paper that's nothing more than—what they call—um, false hope.
But winning Lotto is my dream. It's what I look forward to.
People say, uh, "Don't you have other dreams?"
I dream I am Jackie Chan. I am international superstar, martial arts expert, defending truth, justice, and honor, fighting an army of bad guys. They come at me at full speed. I kick them, I punch them, I throw them high in air and they land with thud. I jump across rooftops in cities of San Francisco, Bangkok, and London. I swim entire oceans to disable nuclear warheads. I run lengths equal to ten football fields to rescue princesses tied to train tracks. I leap from tall billboards onto ladders that hang from helicopters that fly very, very fast. I ski down super steep slopes in pursuit of drug kingpins who are driving Jeeps and carrying Uzis.
What are, uh, the chances of that?
Super Lotto it is.