They did this to me every fucking Easter until the old man died.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Goat Ropers Make Better Lovers
They were driving past the feed store on highway 35 when they decided they could live without the kids. And they figured, what with Charlie being 16 and able to work and Michael not far behind, the kids would be just fine too.
So they drove out to the county line and bought some more Gordons vodka and all the "Goat Ropers Make Better Lovers" and "I'd Rather Be a Roper Than a Doper" bumper stickers the liquor store had in stock and plastered them all over their Royal Dodge Monaco. Plastered them onto the trunk and the hood, the doors and side panels and fenders and windows. Even some on the windshield. Drove off through Matagorda county and toward Mexico when last seen.
I saw them at a Jack in the Box in Brownsville just by chance. They didn't recognize me at all. She came up to me and asked me if I'd had an accident outside her house once and come to her door and asked to use the sink to wash the blood from my face. I told her, "No ma'am, I grew up with your young 'uns. Y'all lived acros the alley from us, behind old man Bailey's."
She drew back and her friendly face changed and she said, "I ain't knowing no old man Bailey and I ain't got no kids."
But I knew it was her. I remembered her letting me into the living room lots of times. Asking me if I wanted a fried egg sandwich
Months later I asked Charlie why Michael didn't talk any more. Charlie told me he stopped talking when their parents left. He told me all about them leaving a note telling him to take care of everybody and make sure the youger ones stayed out of trouble.
I told him I had seen them in Brownsville. I told him how crazy his mom had acted. And about all the bumper stickers on the car.
Charlie didn't seem too mad about it. I suppose he was maybe too simple minded to linger too much in thought on the philosophical and psychological issues regarding parents abandoning a whole passel of kids to the charge of a sweet but stupid teenager.
Michael was not simple. He had been a sweet boy who always smiled and chattered beautifully the beautiful chatter of childhood bliss. A joy to be near and a joy to think of. He could never get his head around the thought that they had left him. Had left all of them.
He never spoke again. He never smiled. He followed Charlie around sometimes; and stayed on the periphery of any crowd. He threw rocks.
He walked highways late at night and looked for the chocolate brown Royal Dodge Monaco. He never saw it.
One night, near the feed store on highway 35, a truck driver went off the road and ran him over and kept going. The driver was never found. Neither were the parents.
So they drove out to the county line and bought some more Gordons vodka and all the "Goat Ropers Make Better Lovers" and "I'd Rather Be a Roper Than a Doper" bumper stickers the liquor store had in stock and plastered them all over their Royal Dodge Monaco. Plastered them onto the trunk and the hood, the doors and side panels and fenders and windows. Even some on the windshield. Drove off through Matagorda county and toward Mexico when last seen.
I saw them at a Jack in the Box in Brownsville just by chance. They didn't recognize me at all. She came up to me and asked me if I'd had an accident outside her house once and come to her door and asked to use the sink to wash the blood from my face. I told her, "No ma'am, I grew up with your young 'uns. Y'all lived acros the alley from us, behind old man Bailey's."
She drew back and her friendly face changed and she said, "I ain't knowing no old man Bailey and I ain't got no kids."
But I knew it was her. I remembered her letting me into the living room lots of times. Asking me if I wanted a fried egg sandwich
Months later I asked Charlie why Michael didn't talk any more. Charlie told me he stopped talking when their parents left. He told me all about them leaving a note telling him to take care of everybody and make sure the youger ones stayed out of trouble.
I told him I had seen them in Brownsville. I told him how crazy his mom had acted. And about all the bumper stickers on the car.
Charlie didn't seem too mad about it. I suppose he was maybe too simple minded to linger too much in thought on the philosophical and psychological issues regarding parents abandoning a whole passel of kids to the charge of a sweet but stupid teenager.
Michael was not simple. He had been a sweet boy who always smiled and chattered beautifully the beautiful chatter of childhood bliss. A joy to be near and a joy to think of. He could never get his head around the thought that they had left him. Had left all of them.
He never spoke again. He never smiled. He followed Charlie around sometimes; and stayed on the periphery of any crowd. He threw rocks.
He walked highways late at night and looked for the chocolate brown Royal Dodge Monaco. He never saw it.
One night, near the feed store on highway 35, a truck driver went off the road and ran him over and kept going. The driver was never found. Neither were the parents.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
this old house
She had lived in one of those big houses on the bayou when her parents were still together so she knew the road well enough to guide me through with my headlights off and just the moon for light.
We found a spot without stars over it and it was cold and she hated it. We kept driving by her old house. Where she was happy once but now going near it brought her to hysterics. We would go away for a while but we kept coming back. She liked crying and I guess the crying she did for that house was about the best crying she got these days.
She said it made her feel good for me to come out there too and be part of this ritual. I was always worried that the people who now inhabited the house would come outside and see to the car, idling outside, with the wailing woman inside.
Sometimes, after we had been doing this for a few months, I would go home to her apartment with her and just hold her. She would always ask me not to try to make any moves on her because she was vulnerable and that it would be just rotten of me to pull something like that on someone so vulnerable.
I would just lay next to her and hold her and stroke her hair until she was asleep. It never took long.
One night, I told her I didn't want to drive by her old house and watch her cry anymore. She cried about that for a little while but I just sat in the drivers seat and looked straight ahead. Wouldn't put in drive. Wouldn't go.
She stopped crying after a while and asked me what I wanted to do.
It was warm now and I wanted to be under warm stars in warm wind that smelled like barnicles and spilled oil and sea gulls. I wanted to be near the river where I had been happy once.
Near the river where we could drink beer and smoke cigarettes and watch the water in the dying light.
Near the river where we could talk about ourselves and the river and the stars and the smell of oil. Or is it diesel?
Near the river where we could sing down by the river, down by the river.
We finished a twelve pack. Looking at the water throught the dying of the light and it's burial into the pitch. Side by side, her head on my shoulder. "You're sure a sweet guy."
"Am I?"
"You sure are," her voice had taken on a husky, tumescent quality. Her hand ran toward my crotch.
I started crying.
She tried to get my interest but I just stared forward. Stared at the river and cried.
After a few minutes she saw the tears and stopped what she was doing with her hands.
We looked at each other right in the eyes for a few minutes. My tears rolling down my cheeks.
"You want to go drive by my old house?" she asked me.
I nodded in assent.
When I told her I was gay, after we had cried in the car in front of her old house for about two hours, she took my hand and kissed it.
"Thank god!"
She had really been worried about my ability to restrain myself around her.
We found a spot without stars over it and it was cold and she hated it. We kept driving by her old house. Where she was happy once but now going near it brought her to hysterics. We would go away for a while but we kept coming back. She liked crying and I guess the crying she did for that house was about the best crying she got these days.
She said it made her feel good for me to come out there too and be part of this ritual. I was always worried that the people who now inhabited the house would come outside and see to the car, idling outside, with the wailing woman inside.
Sometimes, after we had been doing this for a few months, I would go home to her apartment with her and just hold her. She would always ask me not to try to make any moves on her because she was vulnerable and that it would be just rotten of me to pull something like that on someone so vulnerable.
I would just lay next to her and hold her and stroke her hair until she was asleep. It never took long.
One night, I told her I didn't want to drive by her old house and watch her cry anymore. She cried about that for a little while but I just sat in the drivers seat and looked straight ahead. Wouldn't put in drive. Wouldn't go.
She stopped crying after a while and asked me what I wanted to do.
It was warm now and I wanted to be under warm stars in warm wind that smelled like barnicles and spilled oil and sea gulls. I wanted to be near the river where I had been happy once.
Near the river where we could drink beer and smoke cigarettes and watch the water in the dying light.
Near the river where we could talk about ourselves and the river and the stars and the smell of oil. Or is it diesel?
Near the river where we could sing down by the river, down by the river.
We finished a twelve pack. Looking at the water throught the dying of the light and it's burial into the pitch. Side by side, her head on my shoulder. "You're sure a sweet guy."
"Am I?"
"You sure are," her voice had taken on a husky, tumescent quality. Her hand ran toward my crotch.
I started crying.
She tried to get my interest but I just stared forward. Stared at the river and cried.
After a few minutes she saw the tears and stopped what she was doing with her hands.
We looked at each other right in the eyes for a few minutes. My tears rolling down my cheeks.
"You want to go drive by my old house?" she asked me.
I nodded in assent.
When I told her I was gay, after we had cried in the car in front of her old house for about two hours, she took my hand and kissed it.
"Thank god!"
She had really been worried about my ability to restrain myself around her.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Marys. June 1988
I watched him sitting at the dark corner of the bar. Away from the jukebox and the bathrooms. In an area people seldom walked by.
I was nodding. Waiting for a connection. Everybody was nodding. Nodding off. Nodding at one another. Nodding at invisible demons. We were all waiting too. I had the luxury of knowing what I was waiting for. Not everybody in this bar at this time of night had that luxury.
I watched him sitting at the dark corner of the bar. Occasionally, when someone left the bar, he would dart out of the dark corner and pour the dregs of the abandoned glass into his maw. Then he would retreat back to his corner and gnaw on cocktail napkins.
God I wanted to go home. God I wanted a fix. God I wanted to stop watching this little rat faced man drinking the dregs of the glasses of strangers and eating cocktail napkins.
I could not. Not one of these things was possible at this moment in time. I couldn't have my fix without I connected.
I could not connect if I left the bar.
If I was at the bar the little ratfaced man in the dark corner drinking the dregs of the glasses of strangers and eating cocktail napkins held me transfixed.
My heart began to swell. My hands began to sweat. I teared up. Why was he eating the cocktail napkins?. Was he hungry? I pondered, for a while, what to do.
I sent a beer over to him. The bartender looked at me like I was crazy. I sent the guy a Budweiser.
When the bartender set the bottle in front of the rat faced man he asked him who sent it. The bartender pointed to me. The rat faced man looked over and raised the bottle to me. I raised mine to him. We both nodded.
He started to get up and walk over to me. To talk. There were about ten of us in that bar and we were all sitting apart. Nodding. In our own little worlds. Sitting apart and not talking to each other. Not being people. Just professional drunks. (That's why we go there.) He was going to connect.
I panicked. I had teared up and I was kind of enjoying the melancholy.
He just walked past me and into the bathroom.
Never even looked at me.
Perfect.
I was nodding. Waiting for a connection. Everybody was nodding. Nodding off. Nodding at one another. Nodding at invisible demons. We were all waiting too. I had the luxury of knowing what I was waiting for. Not everybody in this bar at this time of night had that luxury.
I watched him sitting at the dark corner of the bar. Occasionally, when someone left the bar, he would dart out of the dark corner and pour the dregs of the abandoned glass into his maw. Then he would retreat back to his corner and gnaw on cocktail napkins.
God I wanted to go home. God I wanted a fix. God I wanted to stop watching this little rat faced man drinking the dregs of the glasses of strangers and eating cocktail napkins.
I could not. Not one of these things was possible at this moment in time. I couldn't have my fix without I connected.
I could not connect if I left the bar.
If I was at the bar the little ratfaced man in the dark corner drinking the dregs of the glasses of strangers and eating cocktail napkins held me transfixed.
My heart began to swell. My hands began to sweat. I teared up. Why was he eating the cocktail napkins?. Was he hungry? I pondered, for a while, what to do.
I sent a beer over to him. The bartender looked at me like I was crazy. I sent the guy a Budweiser.
When the bartender set the bottle in front of the rat faced man he asked him who sent it. The bartender pointed to me. The rat faced man looked over and raised the bottle to me. I raised mine to him. We both nodded.
He started to get up and walk over to me. To talk. There were about ten of us in that bar and we were all sitting apart. Nodding. In our own little worlds. Sitting apart and not talking to each other. Not being people. Just professional drunks. (That's why we go there.) He was going to connect.
I panicked. I had teared up and I was kind of enjoying the melancholy.
He just walked past me and into the bathroom.
Never even looked at me.
Perfect.
Friday, August 10, 2007
diet coke kills (a very short play)
Diet Coke Kills
Characters:
Zack
Jeff
Tom
Norman
Set:
A living room
(Lights up Zack sitting on couch watching television. Jeff enters.)
Zack
What are you doing home so early?
Jeff
What are you doing home at all?
Zack
Wigs on Fire fundraiser tonight. I needed to rest. I called in sick.
Jeff
You called in sick from your job to rest up for a party?
Zack
Priorities…I’m a host, girl!
Jeff
But Nedra!
Zack
Betsy!
Jeff
Don’t call me girl names!
Zack
You started it! Why are you home so early?
Jeff
To pack. I’m going hunting with my dad this week-end.
Zack
You’re not going to the fundraiser?
Jeff
Priorities.
Zack
But our special is black Russians; served out of a toilet. You’d rather kill Bambi?
Jeff
I’d rather kill something.
Zack
How does a vegan hunt?
Jeff
I go hunting to spend time with my dad. Not all gay men hate their fathers.
Zack
Blah blah blah. The girls are coming over to get ready. When are you leaving?
Jeff
Right now. My Dad’s waiting outside in the truck.
Zack
Where are you going?
Jeff (as he’s exiting to his room)
Out to the ranch in south Texas.
Zack
Oh. Ooo, look for some mushrooms while you’re out there.
(Doorbell rings. Zack answers door. Norman and Tom enter with full face, carrying bags full of drag.)
Zack
Jane! Marilyn! Did you ride the bus like that?
Norman
Yes. Why do you ask?
Zack
No reason. You guys doing a number tonight?
Norman
We’re not doing Jane and Marilyn this year. I’m sick of them. We’re going to be Diet coke girls.
Tom (to Zack)
Got any scotch girl?
Zack
(To Tom) Kitchen. (to Norman) Diet coke girls?
Tom
Got any ice girl?
Zack
(To Tom) Freezer. (to Norman) Diet coke girls? What the fuck is that?
Tom
Gotta joint girl?
Zack
Cigarette box.
Tom
Good girl.
Norman
You know, two girls dressed as giant diet coke cans. I’ve got inflatable costumes.
Tom (who has made himself a drink and joined the others)
Gotta light girl? (Zack lights Toms joint)
Zack
What kind of girls dress as cans?
Norman
We’ll have beehives!
Tom
Beehives girl!
Zack
Beehives?
Norman
Hair Mary!!
Zack
Oh!
(Jeff re-enters carrying lot’s of guns.)
Jeff
Ladies.
Tom
Hey stud! Gonna go kill some meat with daddy?
Jeff
How did you know?
Tom
We saw him in his big, butch truck outside. He tried his best to ignore us.
Jeff
Oh god.
Norman
You scared him girl. Waving your arms in the air and pulling your shirt up and shit.
Tom
I just wanted some acknowledgement of recognition.
Norman
Oh he recognizes you alright. You set his house on fire.
Tom
That was an accident. No charges were ever filed.
Jeff
Well thanks a lot. I should have a very pleasant drive to Del Rio now.
Tom
Do I get a kiss goodbye?
Jeff
Fuck you.
Zack
How many guns do you need?
Jeff
All of them.
Tom
All those guns. Karma karma karma girl. You’ll probably get shot in the ass with one of those guns.
(Jeff just glares at Tom; says see ya later to the others and exits.)
Norman
You really impressed him that time.
Tom
Oh fuck you Norman.
Zack
Why are you and Jeff always at each others throats?
Norman
Tom has a crush on Jeff.
Tom
Shut up Norman.
Norman
You shut up. Tom has a crush on Jeff and has occasionally stalked him.
Tom
Shut up Norman.
Zack
I had no idea.
Tom
Shut up Zack.
Norman
Oh it’s all so sad and sordid.
Tom
Shut Norman. I have never stalked him. I sometimes checked up on him is all.
Norman (singing)
Tom is a stalker. Tom is a stalker.
Tom
Fuck off Norman! Jeff and I have a special relationship.
Norman
Oh please!
Tom
Well we did.
Norman
You sucking his limp dick while he’s passed drunk out is not having a relationship.
Tom
Sucking dick is sucking dick.
Norman
Jeff doesn’t even remember it Tom. And he acts like you make him kind of sick.
Tom
He’s just shy. He doesn’t like to display his tender side.
(Zack howls with laughter.)
Norman
It is funny in a sad pathetic way. Like gay pentecostals.
Tom
I love you too darlings.
Zack
It’s all becoming so clear to me now.
Tom
Please. Nothing is ever clear. Are you really wearing that?
Norm
Yeah, are you really wearing that? We gotta fix you girl.
Lights out.
Lights up:
(Jeff sits in the living room drinking a beer with all his hunting stuff around him. The phone is ringing. During the following conversation with his mom, the mom should be under a special somewhere off to the side. But she should be seen.)
Jeff
Hello.
Mom (Lights up on Mom.)
Hi honey.
Jeff
Hi Mom.
Mom
Honey what happened?
Jeff
Dad saw Tom and Norman in make-up in front of the house. It looked like it was going to be a long weekend. We turned around in Sugarland. What did he say?
Mom
He didn’t say anything. He just stormed into the den and made himself a drink. He’s pouting in front of the television right now. Oh well, I just wondered what happened. I’m sorry your weekend was ruined.
Jeff
That’s okay. He’ll get over it and there’ll be other weekends.
Mom
Well okay. I just wanted to find out what was going on. I’ll let you go. I love you.
Jeff
I love you too Mom. Bye-bye.
Mom
Bye-bye.
(Lights out on Mom. Jeff starts to carry things into his room. Not the guns. The phone rings again. Show this guy too in the same place as Mom before.)
Jeff
Hello
Trick (Jovially)
Fuck you!!
Jeff (laughing)
Fuck you!!
Trick (louder)
Fuck you!!
Jeff (louder)
Fuck you!!
Trick (louder)
Fuck you!!
Jeff
What’s going on man?
Trick
Why don’t you come over and fuck me?
Jeff
Why don’t you come to Zacks party with me?
Trick
I’ve got an eight ball.
Jeff
I’ll be right there.
Exits.
Lights out.
Lights up.
(Zack enters and passes out on the couch. After a couple of moments the phone rings.)
Zack
Hello. Jeff, what’s up? Oh. Well, why didn’t you come to the party? Oh. Really? Who with? Oh. Really? Really? Oh really? Oh you slut! What? The guns? Yeah, they’re here. Hey, you’re not supposed to leave them out. You fucker. Okay. Where do they go? Sure. I’ll take care of it. No problem. See ya later.
(Zack hangs up the phone and starts to grab the guns when someone begins pounding frantically on the door. It’s Norman and Tom screaming from offstage, “Hurry, hurry let us in.” Or something like that.)
Zack (opening door and seeing the bloodied pair. Who are both freaked out, Tom crying, sobbing, hysterical.)
Oh my god! What happened? (He ushers them in)
Norman
We got bashed.
Zack
I’ll get some towels. Get him on the couch. Are you okay?
Norman
I think so. He took some pretty good licks though.
(Zack exits. Norman tries to comfort Tom. Zack returns with some towels, first aid kit, bottle of scotch. Starts to clean them up.)
Zack
What happened?
Tom (screams)
They tried to fucking kill us!
Zack
What? Who tried to kill you?
Norman
We picked up a couple of guys.
Tom
They were so cute!
Norman
They wanted to go to Bell Park for some reason.
Tom
We went for some reason.
Norman
They totally surprised us. And our costumes allowed almost no range of motion for self defense
Tom
Our wigs! Our wigs! Those fuckers took our wigs! Why did they take our wigs? (begins to cry anew)
Norman
The important thing is that we’re okay.
Tom
Fuck you Norman.
Zack
How did you get away?
Norman
They started laughing at the way we were screaming and slapping. They let go of us and we started running and then they started laughing so hard at the way we ran that we just got away.
Tom
They’re still out there Norman. They followed us a long way. They could be out there right now!
Zack
Oh my god! Do you think they followed you here?
Norman
I don’t know. But I ain’t going back out there.
Zack
Of course not! You guys can stay here. I’m calling the police!
Tom
No! No my god you can’t get the police over here!
Zack
Why
Tom
We’re drunk! And we’re on drugs! And we’re fags in make-up! They’ll just run us in and we’ll get beat up again.
Zack
Oh bullshit! You’re just being paranoid! You’ve been assaulted! You need to at least file a report.
Norman
He’s right Zack. It’s happened to us before.
Tom
Norman, what if they did follow us here? (sees guns) Is Jeff here?
Zack
He came and went. I was just about to put those away.
Tom (grabs a gun)
Let’s go get those fuckers!
Zack
Tom! Put it down!
Norman
Tom! Put the gun down!
Tom
Those fuckers deserve to die!
Norman
Tom put the fucking gun down!!
(The sound of Jeff and his trick can be heard outside screaming “fuck you” at each other like they did before over the phone)
Tom
It’s them!
Zack
No! It’s Jeff!
(Door opens. Jeff is in doorway. Tom shoots. )
Lights out
Lights up three to five beats later
Tom (standing over Jeff)
I fucking told you so!!
Zack
What?
Tom
I told him he’d probably get killed by one of his own guns.
Norman
Well girl, what you actually said was that he’d probably get shot in the ass with one of his own guns.
Tom
Fuck you Norman.
The End
Characters:
Zack
Jeff
Tom
Norman
Set:
A living room
(Lights up Zack sitting on couch watching television. Jeff enters.)
Zack
What are you doing home so early?
Jeff
What are you doing home at all?
Zack
Wigs on Fire fundraiser tonight. I needed to rest. I called in sick.
Jeff
You called in sick from your job to rest up for a party?
Zack
Priorities…I’m a host, girl!
Jeff
But Nedra!
Zack
Betsy!
Jeff
Don’t call me girl names!
Zack
You started it! Why are you home so early?
Jeff
To pack. I’m going hunting with my dad this week-end.
Zack
You’re not going to the fundraiser?
Jeff
Priorities.
Zack
But our special is black Russians; served out of a toilet. You’d rather kill Bambi?
Jeff
I’d rather kill something.
Zack
How does a vegan hunt?
Jeff
I go hunting to spend time with my dad. Not all gay men hate their fathers.
Zack
Blah blah blah. The girls are coming over to get ready. When are you leaving?
Jeff
Right now. My Dad’s waiting outside in the truck.
Zack
Where are you going?
Jeff (as he’s exiting to his room)
Out to the ranch in south Texas.
Zack
Oh. Ooo, look for some mushrooms while you’re out there.
(Doorbell rings. Zack answers door. Norman and Tom enter with full face, carrying bags full of drag.)
Zack
Jane! Marilyn! Did you ride the bus like that?
Norman
Yes. Why do you ask?
Zack
No reason. You guys doing a number tonight?
Norman
We’re not doing Jane and Marilyn this year. I’m sick of them. We’re going to be Diet coke girls.
Tom (to Zack)
Got any scotch girl?
Zack
(To Tom) Kitchen. (to Norman) Diet coke girls?
Tom
Got any ice girl?
Zack
(To Tom) Freezer. (to Norman) Diet coke girls? What the fuck is that?
Tom
Gotta joint girl?
Zack
Cigarette box.
Tom
Good girl.
Norman
You know, two girls dressed as giant diet coke cans. I’ve got inflatable costumes.
Tom (who has made himself a drink and joined the others)
Gotta light girl? (Zack lights Toms joint)
Zack
What kind of girls dress as cans?
Norman
We’ll have beehives!
Tom
Beehives girl!
Zack
Beehives?
Norman
Hair Mary!!
Zack
Oh!
(Jeff re-enters carrying lot’s of guns.)
Jeff
Ladies.
Tom
Hey stud! Gonna go kill some meat with daddy?
Jeff
How did you know?
Tom
We saw him in his big, butch truck outside. He tried his best to ignore us.
Jeff
Oh god.
Norman
You scared him girl. Waving your arms in the air and pulling your shirt up and shit.
Tom
I just wanted some acknowledgement of recognition.
Norman
Oh he recognizes you alright. You set his house on fire.
Tom
That was an accident. No charges were ever filed.
Jeff
Well thanks a lot. I should have a very pleasant drive to Del Rio now.
Tom
Do I get a kiss goodbye?
Jeff
Fuck you.
Zack
How many guns do you need?
Jeff
All of them.
Tom
All those guns. Karma karma karma girl. You’ll probably get shot in the ass with one of those guns.
(Jeff just glares at Tom; says see ya later to the others and exits.)
Norman
You really impressed him that time.
Tom
Oh fuck you Norman.
Zack
Why are you and Jeff always at each others throats?
Norman
Tom has a crush on Jeff.
Tom
Shut up Norman.
Norman
You shut up. Tom has a crush on Jeff and has occasionally stalked him.
Tom
Shut up Norman.
Zack
I had no idea.
Tom
Shut up Zack.
Norman
Oh it’s all so sad and sordid.
Tom
Shut Norman. I have never stalked him. I sometimes checked up on him is all.
Norman (singing)
Tom is a stalker. Tom is a stalker.
Tom
Fuck off Norman! Jeff and I have a special relationship.
Norman
Oh please!
Tom
Well we did.
Norman
You sucking his limp dick while he’s passed drunk out is not having a relationship.
Tom
Sucking dick is sucking dick.
Norman
Jeff doesn’t even remember it Tom. And he acts like you make him kind of sick.
Tom
He’s just shy. He doesn’t like to display his tender side.
(Zack howls with laughter.)
Norman
It is funny in a sad pathetic way. Like gay pentecostals.
Tom
I love you too darlings.
Zack
It’s all becoming so clear to me now.
Tom
Please. Nothing is ever clear. Are you really wearing that?
Norm
Yeah, are you really wearing that? We gotta fix you girl.
Lights out.
Lights up:
(Jeff sits in the living room drinking a beer with all his hunting stuff around him. The phone is ringing. During the following conversation with his mom, the mom should be under a special somewhere off to the side. But she should be seen.)
Jeff
Hello.
Mom (Lights up on Mom.)
Hi honey.
Jeff
Hi Mom.
Mom
Honey what happened?
Jeff
Dad saw Tom and Norman in make-up in front of the house. It looked like it was going to be a long weekend. We turned around in Sugarland. What did he say?
Mom
He didn’t say anything. He just stormed into the den and made himself a drink. He’s pouting in front of the television right now. Oh well, I just wondered what happened. I’m sorry your weekend was ruined.
Jeff
That’s okay. He’ll get over it and there’ll be other weekends.
Mom
Well okay. I just wanted to find out what was going on. I’ll let you go. I love you.
Jeff
I love you too Mom. Bye-bye.
Mom
Bye-bye.
(Lights out on Mom. Jeff starts to carry things into his room. Not the guns. The phone rings again. Show this guy too in the same place as Mom before.)
Jeff
Hello
Trick (Jovially)
Fuck you!!
Jeff (laughing)
Fuck you!!
Trick (louder)
Fuck you!!
Jeff (louder)
Fuck you!!
Trick (louder)
Fuck you!!
Jeff
What’s going on man?
Trick
Why don’t you come over and fuck me?
Jeff
Why don’t you come to Zacks party with me?
Trick
I’ve got an eight ball.
Jeff
I’ll be right there.
Exits.
Lights out.
Lights up.
(Zack enters and passes out on the couch. After a couple of moments the phone rings.)
Zack
Hello. Jeff, what’s up? Oh. Well, why didn’t you come to the party? Oh. Really? Who with? Oh. Really? Really? Oh really? Oh you slut! What? The guns? Yeah, they’re here. Hey, you’re not supposed to leave them out. You fucker. Okay. Where do they go? Sure. I’ll take care of it. No problem. See ya later.
(Zack hangs up the phone and starts to grab the guns when someone begins pounding frantically on the door. It’s Norman and Tom screaming from offstage, “Hurry, hurry let us in.” Or something like that.)
Zack (opening door and seeing the bloodied pair. Who are both freaked out, Tom crying, sobbing, hysterical.)
Oh my god! What happened? (He ushers them in)
Norman
We got bashed.
Zack
I’ll get some towels. Get him on the couch. Are you okay?
Norman
I think so. He took some pretty good licks though.
(Zack exits. Norman tries to comfort Tom. Zack returns with some towels, first aid kit, bottle of scotch. Starts to clean them up.)
Zack
What happened?
Tom (screams)
They tried to fucking kill us!
Zack
What? Who tried to kill you?
Norman
We picked up a couple of guys.
Tom
They were so cute!
Norman
They wanted to go to Bell Park for some reason.
Tom
We went for some reason.
Norman
They totally surprised us. And our costumes allowed almost no range of motion for self defense
Tom
Our wigs! Our wigs! Those fuckers took our wigs! Why did they take our wigs? (begins to cry anew)
Norman
The important thing is that we’re okay.
Tom
Fuck you Norman.
Zack
How did you get away?
Norman
They started laughing at the way we were screaming and slapping. They let go of us and we started running and then they started laughing so hard at the way we ran that we just got away.
Tom
They’re still out there Norman. They followed us a long way. They could be out there right now!
Zack
Oh my god! Do you think they followed you here?
Norman
I don’t know. But I ain’t going back out there.
Zack
Of course not! You guys can stay here. I’m calling the police!
Tom
No! No my god you can’t get the police over here!
Zack
Why
Tom
We’re drunk! And we’re on drugs! And we’re fags in make-up! They’ll just run us in and we’ll get beat up again.
Zack
Oh bullshit! You’re just being paranoid! You’ve been assaulted! You need to at least file a report.
Norman
He’s right Zack. It’s happened to us before.
Tom
Norman, what if they did follow us here? (sees guns) Is Jeff here?
Zack
He came and went. I was just about to put those away.
Tom (grabs a gun)
Let’s go get those fuckers!
Zack
Tom! Put it down!
Norman
Tom! Put the gun down!
Tom
Those fuckers deserve to die!
Norman
Tom put the fucking gun down!!
(The sound of Jeff and his trick can be heard outside screaming “fuck you” at each other like they did before over the phone)
Tom
It’s them!
Zack
No! It’s Jeff!
(Door opens. Jeff is in doorway. Tom shoots. )
Lights out
Lights up three to five beats later
Tom (standing over Jeff)
I fucking told you so!!
Zack
What?
Tom
I told him he’d probably get killed by one of his own guns.
Norman
Well girl, what you actually said was that he’d probably get shot in the ass with one of his own guns.
Tom
Fuck you Norman.
The End
Monday, July 2, 2007
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