Plays 1: Weird Time Blues by Colin Peterson, George O'Sullivan (parable of the sower read online TXT) 📖
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- Author: Colin Peterson, George O'Sullivan
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Bovvy struggles, choking.
Office.
Day. Everyone rushes around Bovvy’s body, sticking post-it notes to it sniffing it, whatever, and getting in the way of the two police officers, or crime assessors ,called Mills and Kascano. Both look haggard. Malden, completely genderless, enters. It looks at the body and talks into a pen, which seems to whisper back to it. Malden nods in agreement with the pen.
Malden: (to Kascano.) This could really fuck our advertising.
Kascano: Look, he was behind with his penis payments. You’ve got round it, I see, but others can’t do that. I mean, it’s a penis.
Malden: So? I think Bovvy knew what he was doing. The idiot was having fun.
Mills: Yeah, but he was in debt. You can’t really do that - cancel each other out. You can’t do…you just…no.
Malden: I think he’s got a family.
Mills: Don’t tell me they know?
Malden: I haven’t notified them.
Mills: I think we should control the number of workers in today.
Malden: But I need staff.
Kascano: They could be traumatised; I mean how many office levels have seen a dead body.
Colley enters, taking off a pill mask.
Colley: (eating it, licking his pill mask like a lollypop.) Wow, man, a dead body. This has made my Monday morning.
Kascano: Look, beat it kid - this ain’t funny.
Malden: (smiling.) No, it’s not.
Mills: Look, I think you can pay some respect to your colleague.
Colley: I didn’t know him. I really didn’t.
Malden: Well, I did. And he was good. I mean, a good guy.
Mills: You fuck him?
Malden: I think we should go into my office - it’s on the thirteenth floor.
Kascano: Great, I knew it’d be unlucky today!
Colley: Chow! Take care, coppies!
Toddy approaches Colley, as Kascano, Mills and Malden talk in hushed tones.
Toddy: Useless-boy, I don’t know how you got this gig, as Moth’s replacement, but I know you fucked up the penis permits. Bovvy’s penis was fine. He knew he was chasing a fine line - and you killed him. We issue those permits and you could’ve made him-
Colley: You mean just issue him one without paying?
Toddy: Well, least we all know you are not Moth. You fucked it up, you didn’t dodge it. We know that you’re after promotion.
Colley: Look, I don’t give a fuck about promotion, I jus do my job. I think you’re cool.
Toddy: What in a 'Bill and Ted' sort of way? No, you can fuck off you patronising little wanker - fuck off back to the bedroom you crawled out of. I’ll come down on you like a golden shower from hell, if I find you screw any of us around. Okay?
Colley: Okay. (Beat; baffled.) Golden shower from hell?
Toddy: That’s got that sorted. Not that I’m, not a liberal; I done a few E’s last night, but they're nothing now.
Colley: There’s that new one isn’t there - CJD? That’s meant to be hardcore.
Toddy: No, it’s nothing; it didn’t affect me. You should go to a better licenced dealer.
Colley: Yeah, I suppose I should.
Toddy: You take care, mate. This conversation goes no-where.
Toddy exits, making threatening signs to Colley.
Colley: (sudden burst of anger at the audience.) Can’t you stare at the dead body? CAN’T YOU? WHY STARE AT US? IT’S A DOMESTIC, BUT THAT’S ALL!
Moth enters, holding bottles of Acid beer. He stares at Bovvy and shakes his head.
Moth: (to Colley; offers a beer.) Want one?
Colley:(taking the beer, it’s full of foam as he opens it, playing with the bubbles) Cheers - I’m going ape-shit. (Blowing more bubbles.) How did you cope?
Moth: I thought about the moon. (Rubbing his beer bottle, staring at it.) Then I made up worlds.
Colley: I’m getting pissed off; I think I’m too -
Moth: I saw him just before he died. He was really cut up; his wife found out he’d been spreading it about, with some tiny pies n cheesies; and he found out some dick up here fucked up his dodgy penis permit. I would've done him a temp, or just sneaked it through. But he'd cut it fine, I have to admit. I don’t think he knew I'd left.
Colley: Did you know him?
Moth: Who?
Colley:(nodding towards Bovvy.) Him.
Moth: Bovvy?
Colley: Yeah.
Moth: Honestly? No. Never. Just superficially, yeah.
Colley: I think it’s cool you’ve got out, but you’re still doing the image thing. I think that’s good as you’ve got involved in the politics of bureaucracy. And things. Sorry I’m just trying to find something intelligent to say, it’ so hard! Braining it, I mean.
Moth: Anything to make it easier and reduce having to face dicks like Toddy everyday. He’s a little prick, but with big problems; he won’t do anything to you.
Colley: Well -
Moth: Look, I’m buying; take an early lunch or call it alternative therapy - let’s get fucked.
Colley: Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do.
Moth: Course not - and if your job’s made any easier, standing up must be your hardest chore. I really pissed on this job; it’s piss. You should still feel lucky.
Colley: I do. Where shall we meet?
Moth: No, just come out now.
Colley: I can do that?
Moth: You’re with me - I’m alumni, huh? Lottery winner penpusher and luckball sleaze. So they’ll think you’re giving me an Ideas Council idea. It’s bullshit; just come on out. Yeah, another tip: never give ideas to the Ideas Council; if they’re good they get done badly. If they’re really good, then they’ll just never get done. But if they’re bad, they might get done. Usually nothing gets done. Or everything happens very slowly. I thought it’d be the opposite of common sense, but it’s just pointless really. No-one cares - do you?
Colley: I do, but I don’t have any fuckin’ ideas - I mean, only for kids shows and things like that. I dunno - what is a good idea? (Moth shrugs, sipping his beer.) I’m more visual - I really like alienporn, but everyone's into that at the moment. I’ve heard of people sending ideas into that Ideas Council place and just not hearing a thing back. Like my cartoon Whackee Duck - it’s about a duck who lives in Cracky river and polices the river of naughty birds that shit in it. It’s a potty trainer and I occasionally jerk off to it.
Moth: Yeah, it’s not that fascinating; it’s another boring thing. Like whether you’re going to get off Earth because it has no pollution filters, auto-recylers, or space. So it’s out of fashion.
Colley: I love the dirty city and I think Earth’s pollution is part of the Old World character. It may be history’s shithole but it’s sti cool. I don’t like being on the moon, looking at bio-domes. Going: 'Wow, it’s a plant!'. (Moth smiles.) We have tree museums and Horti-zoo’s for fucks sake!
Moth: Well, thanks for doing the ad. I know the plant in the ad was corny, but it worked. We have to be environmental. What happened to that plant?
Colley: It died. It’s weird as that ad felt like a dream?
Moth: Well, there you go - it’s cheesy. No, I haven’t seen the ad yet - I didn't know it was the idea you told me about - when we…Remember? (Pause.) I thought it was good idea at the time.
Colley exits, baffled. Moth follows.
[Advert.]
We see a fight breaking out - the puppets fighting each other. Many smash into the cardboard furniture and hit each other with it.
Voiceover: Hello, folks, and here in the office the GA has another ethical solution. This is the permit and the legislation of office fighting. It’s just like the movies - all you’re favourite cult ones with anti-consumerist messages. They’re hip but now hip is real! Reality ahs gone hip and you can beat the living daylights out of someone you hate, or for that matter, don’t hate and just want a good -old-fashioned ruck. The choice is yours and the GovAgency, of this mid-term, choose to give full - yes, full! - compensation to all users of this scheme. (Very quickly, almost sped up.) Complex cases are dropped and compensation depends on damages limiting ability to work.
The puppets keep fighting but in slow motion.
Split-time[2ish].
A space craft. Victorian explorers enter. They are as if part of an old adventure film. Dr. Tosken grabs an old camera, a ridiculously large and battered pinhole camera, which he points like a phallus at the audience, then at Mawter. Mawter is Tosken’s assistant who enters slowly, carrying all the expedition bags.
Tosken: Ah, yes, yes, yes! Dr. Tosken, discoverer of the New World! A crystal-ship of happiness. A future resort in the Emerald Beyond! Ah, why not invest in Utopia...Very good, if I may say so myself!
Mawter: Er, no, me sirs, we’s thinks that me’s ‘elped yous’s all the same; ooooooooh, yes. Mawter strong mutant-bot. Brainlessssss thuggie for peepsies wit’ moneeeessss.
Tosken: Constable Mawter, keep your voice down. We don’t want to alarm the aliens - who look like ants and are definitely evil - even though we know nothing of there vile civilisation. Just like Christians understanding Muslims. Or Tandoori.
Mawter: Ooooh, ses, mes, wantes, payes rise. Pay rise?High rise?
Tosken: Hush fool - just pay me more and I’ll help you more. That is the principle of this new alien society we are about to take over. Hopefully, it will be evil so when we do destroy it, we can actually release some good press coverage. Faking thing’s like this is getting harder.
Mawter: You are blatant. You prick.
We hear the scream of Ming the Merciless’ Giant maggot, it’s a horrid
scream. Mawter vanishes.
Terw:(taking off Tosken’s fake moustache.) Would you stop the life-play right there…I wanted something a bit more…I don’t know. I want to think about it.
An airlock opens. Refto enters.
Refto: You still doing this make your own movie shit. You know, it was better when they use to make movies. Real movies. Not remakes, but the classics. The remakes are recycled.
Terw: You’re recycled.
Refto: Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I come round here to get some. Some druid. I hear it’s costly, but I want this . I can’t deal with space travel and I think it will make me go mad.
Terw: Space makes you sane. I like my space. I don’t need junkie mates bothering me. I’m clean and I don’t need this. Maybe a bit of paganism. You aren’t meant to get junkies in the future! Are you?
Terw screams, hitting his head on the floor, rocking. Valance and Guinow enter.
Valance: This isn’t good propaganda. This is not going to make them think the food we give them is safe. We give them water to drink which was their piss. They don’t know
Office.
Day. Everyone rushes around Bovvy’s body, sticking post-it notes to it sniffing it, whatever, and getting in the way of the two police officers, or crime assessors ,called Mills and Kascano. Both look haggard. Malden, completely genderless, enters. It looks at the body and talks into a pen, which seems to whisper back to it. Malden nods in agreement with the pen.
Malden: (to Kascano.) This could really fuck our advertising.
Kascano: Look, he was behind with his penis payments. You’ve got round it, I see, but others can’t do that. I mean, it’s a penis.
Malden: So? I think Bovvy knew what he was doing. The idiot was having fun.
Mills: Yeah, but he was in debt. You can’t really do that - cancel each other out. You can’t do…you just…no.
Malden: I think he’s got a family.
Mills: Don’t tell me they know?
Malden: I haven’t notified them.
Mills: I think we should control the number of workers in today.
Malden: But I need staff.
Kascano: They could be traumatised; I mean how many office levels have seen a dead body.
Colley enters, taking off a pill mask.
Colley: (eating it, licking his pill mask like a lollypop.) Wow, man, a dead body. This has made my Monday morning.
Kascano: Look, beat it kid - this ain’t funny.
Malden: (smiling.) No, it’s not.
Mills: Look, I think you can pay some respect to your colleague.
Colley: I didn’t know him. I really didn’t.
Malden: Well, I did. And he was good. I mean, a good guy.
Mills: You fuck him?
Malden: I think we should go into my office - it’s on the thirteenth floor.
Kascano: Great, I knew it’d be unlucky today!
Colley: Chow! Take care, coppies!
Toddy approaches Colley, as Kascano, Mills and Malden talk in hushed tones.
Toddy: Useless-boy, I don’t know how you got this gig, as Moth’s replacement, but I know you fucked up the penis permits. Bovvy’s penis was fine. He knew he was chasing a fine line - and you killed him. We issue those permits and you could’ve made him-
Colley: You mean just issue him one without paying?
Toddy: Well, least we all know you are not Moth. You fucked it up, you didn’t dodge it. We know that you’re after promotion.
Colley: Look, I don’t give a fuck about promotion, I jus do my job. I think you’re cool.
Toddy: What in a 'Bill and Ted' sort of way? No, you can fuck off you patronising little wanker - fuck off back to the bedroom you crawled out of. I’ll come down on you like a golden shower from hell, if I find you screw any of us around. Okay?
Colley: Okay. (Beat; baffled.) Golden shower from hell?
Toddy: That’s got that sorted. Not that I’m, not a liberal; I done a few E’s last night, but they're nothing now.
Colley: There’s that new one isn’t there - CJD? That’s meant to be hardcore.
Toddy: No, it’s nothing; it didn’t affect me. You should go to a better licenced dealer.
Colley: Yeah, I suppose I should.
Toddy: You take care, mate. This conversation goes no-where.
Toddy exits, making threatening signs to Colley.
Colley: (sudden burst of anger at the audience.) Can’t you stare at the dead body? CAN’T YOU? WHY STARE AT US? IT’S A DOMESTIC, BUT THAT’S ALL!
Moth enters, holding bottles of Acid beer. He stares at Bovvy and shakes his head.
Moth: (to Colley; offers a beer.) Want one?
Colley:(taking the beer, it’s full of foam as he opens it, playing with the bubbles) Cheers - I’m going ape-shit. (Blowing more bubbles.) How did you cope?
Moth: I thought about the moon. (Rubbing his beer bottle, staring at it.) Then I made up worlds.
Colley: I’m getting pissed off; I think I’m too -
Moth: I saw him just before he died. He was really cut up; his wife found out he’d been spreading it about, with some tiny pies n cheesies; and he found out some dick up here fucked up his dodgy penis permit. I would've done him a temp, or just sneaked it through. But he'd cut it fine, I have to admit. I don’t think he knew I'd left.
Colley: Did you know him?
Moth: Who?
Colley:(nodding towards Bovvy.) Him.
Moth: Bovvy?
Colley: Yeah.
Moth: Honestly? No. Never. Just superficially, yeah.
Colley: I think it’s cool you’ve got out, but you’re still doing the image thing. I think that’s good as you’ve got involved in the politics of bureaucracy. And things. Sorry I’m just trying to find something intelligent to say, it’ so hard! Braining it, I mean.
Moth: Anything to make it easier and reduce having to face dicks like Toddy everyday. He’s a little prick, but with big problems; he won’t do anything to you.
Colley: Well -
Moth: Look, I’m buying; take an early lunch or call it alternative therapy - let’s get fucked.
Colley: Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do.
Moth: Course not - and if your job’s made any easier, standing up must be your hardest chore. I really pissed on this job; it’s piss. You should still feel lucky.
Colley: I do. Where shall we meet?
Moth: No, just come out now.
Colley: I can do that?
Moth: You’re with me - I’m alumni, huh? Lottery winner penpusher and luckball sleaze. So they’ll think you’re giving me an Ideas Council idea. It’s bullshit; just come on out. Yeah, another tip: never give ideas to the Ideas Council; if they’re good they get done badly. If they’re really good, then they’ll just never get done. But if they’re bad, they might get done. Usually nothing gets done. Or everything happens very slowly. I thought it’d be the opposite of common sense, but it’s just pointless really. No-one cares - do you?
Colley: I do, but I don’t have any fuckin’ ideas - I mean, only for kids shows and things like that. I dunno - what is a good idea? (Moth shrugs, sipping his beer.) I’m more visual - I really like alienporn, but everyone's into that at the moment. I’ve heard of people sending ideas into that Ideas Council place and just not hearing a thing back. Like my cartoon Whackee Duck - it’s about a duck who lives in Cracky river and polices the river of naughty birds that shit in it. It’s a potty trainer and I occasionally jerk off to it.
Moth: Yeah, it’s not that fascinating; it’s another boring thing. Like whether you’re going to get off Earth because it has no pollution filters, auto-recylers, or space. So it’s out of fashion.
Colley: I love the dirty city and I think Earth’s pollution is part of the Old World character. It may be history’s shithole but it’s sti cool. I don’t like being on the moon, looking at bio-domes. Going: 'Wow, it’s a plant!'. (Moth smiles.) We have tree museums and Horti-zoo’s for fucks sake!
Moth: Well, thanks for doing the ad. I know the plant in the ad was corny, but it worked. We have to be environmental. What happened to that plant?
Colley: It died. It’s weird as that ad felt like a dream?
Moth: Well, there you go - it’s cheesy. No, I haven’t seen the ad yet - I didn't know it was the idea you told me about - when we…Remember? (Pause.) I thought it was good idea at the time.
Colley exits, baffled. Moth follows.
[Advert.]
We see a fight breaking out - the puppets fighting each other. Many smash into the cardboard furniture and hit each other with it.
Voiceover: Hello, folks, and here in the office the GA has another ethical solution. This is the permit and the legislation of office fighting. It’s just like the movies - all you’re favourite cult ones with anti-consumerist messages. They’re hip but now hip is real! Reality ahs gone hip and you can beat the living daylights out of someone you hate, or for that matter, don’t hate and just want a good -old-fashioned ruck. The choice is yours and the GovAgency, of this mid-term, choose to give full - yes, full! - compensation to all users of this scheme. (Very quickly, almost sped up.) Complex cases are dropped and compensation depends on damages limiting ability to work.
The puppets keep fighting but in slow motion.
Split-time[2ish].
A space craft. Victorian explorers enter. They are as if part of an old adventure film. Dr. Tosken grabs an old camera, a ridiculously large and battered pinhole camera, which he points like a phallus at the audience, then at Mawter. Mawter is Tosken’s assistant who enters slowly, carrying all the expedition bags.
Tosken: Ah, yes, yes, yes! Dr. Tosken, discoverer of the New World! A crystal-ship of happiness. A future resort in the Emerald Beyond! Ah, why not invest in Utopia...Very good, if I may say so myself!
Mawter: Er, no, me sirs, we’s thinks that me’s ‘elped yous’s all the same; ooooooooh, yes. Mawter strong mutant-bot. Brainlessssss thuggie for peepsies wit’ moneeeessss.
Tosken: Constable Mawter, keep your voice down. We don’t want to alarm the aliens - who look like ants and are definitely evil - even though we know nothing of there vile civilisation. Just like Christians understanding Muslims. Or Tandoori.
Mawter: Ooooh, ses, mes, wantes, payes rise. Pay rise?High rise?
Tosken: Hush fool - just pay me more and I’ll help you more. That is the principle of this new alien society we are about to take over. Hopefully, it will be evil so when we do destroy it, we can actually release some good press coverage. Faking thing’s like this is getting harder.
Mawter: You are blatant. You prick.
We hear the scream of Ming the Merciless’ Giant maggot, it’s a horrid
scream. Mawter vanishes.
Terw:(taking off Tosken’s fake moustache.) Would you stop the life-play right there…I wanted something a bit more…I don’t know. I want to think about it.
An airlock opens. Refto enters.
Refto: You still doing this make your own movie shit. You know, it was better when they use to make movies. Real movies. Not remakes, but the classics. The remakes are recycled.
Terw: You’re recycled.
Refto: Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I come round here to get some. Some druid. I hear it’s costly, but I want this . I can’t deal with space travel and I think it will make me go mad.
Terw: Space makes you sane. I like my space. I don’t need junkie mates bothering me. I’m clean and I don’t need this. Maybe a bit of paganism. You aren’t meant to get junkies in the future! Are you?
Terw screams, hitting his head on the floor, rocking. Valance and Guinow enter.
Valance: This isn’t good propaganda. This is not going to make them think the food we give them is safe. We give them water to drink which was their piss. They don’t know
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