Gym Rats by c. safos

Stage Set: Late in the evening in the Hammer House Boxing Gym, most of the regulars have left. A scattered few people still remain. In the background, a man uses a jump rope. A woman does push-ups.

(CAIN, a small boxer, sits on a bench unwrapping the protective tape off of his knuckles and wrists using his teeth. SERGIO, his sparring partner and best friend, cuts away at the tape on CAIN'S other hand.)
SERGIO: I know you've got a hand in there somewhere.
CAIN: (spitting the tape out of his mouth) Well, remember to stop cutting once you see bone.
(The people exercising in the background finish their workouts and move off stage, leaving the focus of the audience on CAIN and SERGIO.)
SERGIO: Right, like you'd be able to feel it otherwise. I don't even think you have bone in there. I think you've got anvils in your hands.
CAIN: Are you kidding? I'll need more than anvils come fight night. Doerkson is a monster in the ring. To bring him down, I'll need a lead pipe and a tank if you can spare them.
(Freed from the cast of protective tape, CAIN'S hands start to violently shake. CAIN closes them into a fist until they calm.)
SERGIO: What was that?
(CAIN stands up and walks over to a nearby heavy bag and starts to throw light jabs.)
CAIN: It's nothing, just nerves. It'll calm down after the fight.
SERGIO: Have you seen a doctor?
(CAIN'S light jabs get heavier.)
CAIN: Seriously, I'm fine. Just nerves.
SERGIO: You don't get nerves. You don't get worried or stressed. I know you. What's going on?
(CAIN'S heavy jabs get heavier as the heavy bag begins to sway.)
CAIN: I'm fine. Let it go.
SERGIO: You can't stonewall me. We're going to a doctor tonight. I don't want to see you end up like Motts, stumbling around, shaking, can't even hold a spoon to eat, let alone throw hands. He took too many punches to the head, and now, his head is like a snow globe—just little flakes floating around in there. As a matter of fact. . . .
(CAIN begins to pummel at the heavy bag, and the bag begins to rock violently.)
CAIN: Let it go! I'm not going to any doctors now. If I do, the athletic commission steps in. If they step in, they'll cancel the fight. They do that and I'm out of a purse. I need that money! And if you call yourself my friend, you'll keep quiet.
(SERGIO walks over and stops the swaying bag.)
SERGIO: It's your funeral.
(SERGIO walks away to the locker room. CAIN'S hands start to shake again until CAIN closes them into fists. The tremors stop.)

What is the best way to describe this drama?
A.
a soliloquy
B.
a monologue
C.
a tragedy
D.
a comedy