Plays 2: Weird Time Blues Shuffle by Colin Peterson, George O'Sullivan (world of reading TXT) 📖

We see many of the celebrity guests fall down, having seizures, as do the "mad" people. Some are oblivious to the gas. Flore is fine .

 

Flore I love the smell of almonds in the evening. The bitterness reminds of some terrible place. But I can’t remember. Maybe it’s better that way.

 

We hear the sound  of choppers and planes, which mix with the sounds of someone on a pogo-stick. Then random gunfire, which is dispersed but sounds cartoonish; the sounds mix, getting to Flore, who smacks her head, pulling out her gas mask, staring at it, then stares ahead, into nothing.

Another Rebel Conveyor

Another Rebel Conveyor  by Colin Peterson and George O'Sullivan

 

Dramatis Personae.

 

Man 1 a.k.a. Rebby RJB. A Rebel. A self-contained ideologue in a world without ideology

Scrut.                   A dull bureaucratic jobsworth.

Domian Police Officer.  A dull jobsworth  but a kind one.

Mayor of Domia.        A dull jobsworth. A total mess.

VC.                     The last soldier of Domia. A dull husk of another time.

Old Man                A dull husk, but has the odd witty remark to impart.

Dr.                      A dull Dr.

Reveller 1.              A dull Reveller

Reveller2.               Another dull Reveller

News Reporter Announcer/ A Suited Man  A dull journalist and nameless suit.

Angry Mob/People. et al.                  They can be puppets, of course!

 

Location: a mysterious "utopian" settlement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scene 1: Street: Dusk.

[A Man, known for the moment as Man1, walks around in wonder.]

 

Man 1: So this is a utopia -- wow, very good. Right, I think I’m lost, yes, I am. [Takes a map out of his pocket.] Hello, utopia-people? Can you help me? [The street is quiet. The man opens a beer and guzzles it all.]  I needed that. Bloody hell, I thought people were meant to be perfect in utopia? Hello, I want to get back to Surbiton! Hello? What is going on? [A Police Officer - P.O. - enters.] Hello, I was just got a little lost, Officer, and I can’t find the exit, I mean, the map says I’m in a utopian settlement?

 

Police Officer: Yep. This is a utopia known as Domia -- it is not a pizza or a sauce -- but a place, a hidden settlement. But no one gets lost here. You must know someone. Don’t worry, stranger, you will not be turned away! I am a uniformed public servant -- the only one here, I think -- so I will take good care of you! Let's make tea and take copious amounts of recreational drugs!

 

Man1: Bollocks to that! You're trying to trap me? As if you would take care of me! I know this is perfection, but come on, even perfection has to have class! Everyone knows the filth are dodgy as fuck!

 

PO: No, don’t be mistaken -- this is a perfect society! We are, of course, not perfect, but at least we can compromise and get on. So, therefore, we are just classified as ‘a lot better than the past’. So we call this: Better Than Before. B.F.B., just to clarify. Was that too much info at once -- shall I slow down. You know I've got a M.A.? I do use MA too. Don’t use the post-grad though. Worthless, isn’t it? Maybe, you could read the relevant literature? I wouldn’t mind if you just read all of Marx’s writings!

 

Man1: Hah! I’m a Marxist! I’ve never read all of his stuff, so bloody long. Sorry for the pessimism, mate, but I don’t believe that shit, if you ‘scuse my French! 

 

PO: No, I don’t mind. French isn’t that bad; it's too French for me, though. Look, as you’re lost, why don’t you stay at my place. It is quite cosy and my missus makes a nice brew! Heroin tea? It is a delicacy after all! 

 

Man1: No, no! I need a clear revolutionary mind. I’m a rebel, my name is Rebby RJB -- please to meet you! I’m sorry, even though that is very nice of you to offer, I cannot take it! Not because of pride, but because when the revolution happens, I must lead it. Look, I will try not to kill you -- only if the majority rule dictates likewise, of course! I think I shall sleep on the street tonight, it looks comfy.

 

PO: Okay. Only if you are sure you want to. Let me give you my address -- just in case you change your mind -- it has been known to happen! You know-cold street or warm place to kip -- not a hard choice

 

Rebby: What? You think I’m predictable and go back to yours -- don’t be silly! You only want me back at the cop-shop so you can interrogate me! Do I look stupid?

 

PO: Well yeah! It’s only a ploy-so I can find out more about you! You may be a stranger, but I would like to find out about your previous culture! I’m curious.

 

Rebby: You don’t want to know about it! Can you go on the dole here?

 

PO: Well, no! The dole was abolished, but everyone has a social contract, in which people are rewarded by society. It’s very simple -- maybe a bit too simple! People work and society gives, but  you have worked for it -- thus it makes society work. Capitalism is dead here; it has been for a while, but of course you don’t know that! 

 

Rebby: Thank you, but I will sleep here, on the street. Don’t worry, I'm on street level.

 

PO: Don’t be silly, it’s getting dark and it will get cold soon; honest I’m not joking with you! Do I look like a salesman?

 

Rebby: Hey! I wanted to be a salesman when I was a kid, they scare me now. But I was brainwashed. These days I think everyone might be selling themselves!

 

[Rebby The Rebel beds down. The Police Officer, somewhat perplexed, exits scratching his head like a good stereotype, after lighting a suspiciously large cigarette.]

 

Scene 2: An Office: Night.

[The Rebel is seated in an office waiting. Police Officer [PO] enters with a woman.]

 

Rebby: What is all this about! I mean, come on, at least explain, you are acting like the KGB!

 

PO: The what?

 

Rebby: Don’t worry!

 

PO: This is Miss Scrut. She'll be your advisor on the ways of Domia-not Dolmio! I know you pop cultured louts too well! So don’t insult our lovely settlement!

 

Rebby: I wasn’t going to say that Mr. Stereotype! I was inquiring to what name utopia had been given because it is always referred to as utopia. Dull utopia -- everything’s rosy in the garden, eh? I didn’t know they had pasta sauce sponsorship in utopia!

 

Scrut: That’s Domia, idiot! [To PO.] Ooh’s he is going to be a handful!

 

Rebby: Yeah, whatever-there is no human utopia! Only drugs can create that!

 

Scrut: I see officer there is some work to be done here! Look, we try to help everyone-that includes strangers! How did you get here? Please cooperate! [Scrut loses her temper.] COOPERATE!

 

[The Rebel is pulling funny faces and generally being unhelpful. The rebel is quite aggressive.]

 

PO:  [To Scrut.]Calm down-you can’t force the rebel. I think this odd person got hereby some sort of ‘Planet of the Apes’ thing! It’s possible-anything is today! [Points at Scrut in an authoritative manner.] So don’t fall in love with him!  [PO holds his ear, to listen to instructions given to him via the standard issue ear piece]

Oh, I have just been told not to say that as it gives away part of the story! [To the audience:] You weren’t listening to that bit were you?

 

Scrut: No, of course they were not-look at this rebel, he is being juvenile! 

 

Rebby: No, that is freedom! If I want to be juvenile then I can be-that is my choice! Oh, you and your perfect ways! Always judging, because you know paradoxically that your all wrong, and you will never be perfect!

 

Scrut: You seem to have a typically pessimistic view of successful societies. As you have never lived in one, you are looking at this fact that we are trying to be perfect; when history has shown us that humans are far from perfect. But if you make life more simplistic then, maybe, we could become more peaceful. For instance, if everyone can work together and gets equally fair rewards for the work they put into society, then --

 

Rebby: You’re ranting! Just stop, please, I can’t take it, all these morals! Plah, gah, urgh!  Look, you sold society --your society -- to me well; plus I think you’re hot!

 

PO: It’s not ‘your’ society; it’s OUR society! OUR FUCKING SOCIETY!

 

Rebby: Do they pay you to say that? You’re aroused, aren’t you? No! Before you answer: you practice these slogans, right? Do they put something in the tap water? Do you all have lobotomies at birth? It’s like that, isn’t it? I knew it! I fucking knew it -- I’m always right! ALWAYS!

 

Scrut: Let him rant: give him his turn Officer! Let’s leave quickly -- he might send us to sleep with his tiresome polemic!

 

[Scrut and PO exit. The Rebel continues shouting and moaning about how he dislikes everything. He realises they have gone and falls asleep. Scrut and the PO re-enter.]

 

Scrut: This is going to be a hard case to crack. The rebel is using fragments of their past to shield himself against the future-almost like a dead religion. They believe in nothing, as they have faith in nothing, not even themselves. I don’t know. The past has done nothing for them! But this rebel is a conundrum: why is he so bitter?

 

PO: Bad loser? A poopy-pants? I don’t know - maybe our time and his own time will never fully understand each other. Maybe we're not meant to?

 

Scrut: Do you think this experiment is wise?

 

PO: Do what you want.

 

Scrut: That’s not an answer-I want opinions! Do you think it’s right? [PO about to answer, but is interrupted.] I will hit you if you say ‘what’s right?’

 

PO: Er, I don’t know! [Scrut slaps PO.] Ouch! That stung; I bruise easily, you know! I’m sorry, maybe you should write a paper on it, and put it on the mainwebbynetty thing.

 

Scrut: Good idea, I will forward an idea on the MTX212. Okay, we must keep this secret.

 

PO: But that means you cannot write your paper!

 

Scrut: I will do it under the guise of a hypothetical scenario-[no-one of high intellect really pays much attention to those anyway] but, hopefully, not all them will dismiss my paper as wishful thinking! I will get people’s responses without thinking that it is a reality!

 

PO: Ooh, deception in a Domia!

 

Scrut: It’s not-you make it sound like a soap, or a book written during the renaissance! No-one must know this rebel is a capitalist! He will be one of us! That is, after all, part of my job. And we are helping him, but trying to understand him at the same time! We are getting him with the times and he will love us in the end!

 

PO and Scrut:[To the audience:]  It is ethical, honest!

 

Scrut: Enough of that! Put him in my chambers. When I get back from the Town hall , then hopefully, I can have a good answer!

 

PO: Eh, eh, in your chambers! Nudge, nudge, wink-

 

Scrut: Stop it! It is not like that! This is professional!

 

PO: Of course it is! Oh, yeah -- really professional!

 

Scrut: Look after him and tie him up to my bed, if he