A.V.W.D. by Herb Skew (beautiful books to read TXT) 📖

your head. Again. You want a cuppa? (Snatches the bag of cocaine off Virgil.) You don’t mind if I sweeten mine a bit, do you? I nicked some of Cranston’s cigar-things, too!

 

Virgil passes out hitting the floor with a thud; beat. Snoo goes crazy trying to revive him.

 

Snoo: Fucking amateur, comes to rehearsal, takes ages to contact, then meets me at the end of the day! And he’s fucked. Ate something funny, have ya! Well, don’t blame the radish! You’ve had ten pints, and fifty fags on top of that, you lightweight! Let’s go. GO! GO! Come on! In character: hello, I’m not Snoo anymore, but the Baroness of Kubarro! Virgil, it’s the lizard queen! Protocol, scene one, act one, this is it: Staple My Brain has started! (Putting on Virgil’s accent.) Hello Kubarro, how are you on this fine day? Has anyone done anything nasty? (Trying to be Shakespearean.) Oh, my Lord Lancell, I got some skag and them harpies tried to get me, all I wanted was a fix, dear Lord, oh, Lord! (Back into Virgil’s accent.) Oh, Milady!(Back into Kubarro’s accent.) You can fuck me now! Lick my flaps! I LOVE PINK! (Sits on Virgil’s face, rubbing her crotch against his face, kneading his jaw; suddenly she stops, as she hears the stairs creaking from above and people running above. Snoo panics, and drags Virgil’s body over to the living area. She puts Virgil under a rug. Then takes a breather. She gets angry at Virgil.) You’ve really put me in it, haven’t you, Virge?! You dirt-bag, you should’ve been more saner! I can’t believe you just went out! you’re so stupid; if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in your bedroom! Bunty’s coming today, of all days! He’s knows I’ve had problems with this one, but he’s got a deal sorted for us, after we’ve finished rehab and I’ve said bye-bye to the therapist. Bunty’s a good guy in this shit industry, directing us for nothing, just being there! Look, I know you’re not one for explanations, but (Burst of violent anger, kicking Virgil.) YOU’VE REALLY FUCKED THINGS UP! IT’S NOT MEANT TO BE LIKE THAT! WHY DO YOU GO MAD! WHY? NOT…

 

Snoo drags the coffee table across the room and puts it over Virgil, then sticks the TV on top of it. She puts the TV on; but it is an old TV, and just fuzzes. She watches it, as Cranston enters, with a saucepan.

 

Cranston: You been cooking glue again? Smells like you been doing petrol as well. You know you guys are going to have get yourselves sorted, especially when you finish your theses. I’m not impressed, Snoo. (Pause; lights a cigarillo handing the saucepan to Snoo.) Fuck heads. Oh, the woes. I do hate it, I can’t take living here anymore.

 

Snoo: (eating the glue in the saucepan.) You should move then.

 

Cranston: Look, I’m having a friend round for dinner today. Could you go to your theatre place?

 

Snoo: I would, but we’ve been barred. Have you seen Rupio?

 

Cranston: I think he’s in. His show was rioted. They broke his puppet.

 

Snoo: Kids, today! They just don’t appreciate art! See, Cranston, we’re the last of the Thundercats generation.

 

Cranston: Yeah, I suppose. I preferred She-Ra. Why aren’t you watching TV?

 

Snoo: The static clears my thoughts. And I’m holding a schedule boycott.

 

Cranston: Oh, right. (Beat.) You’ve moved the room around, haven’t you?

 

Snoo: No. No. NO! (Pause, as Cranston surveys the room.) Oh, so do you like it? It’s a feng-hong-kong shoo-phooey design, it’s radical, really wild. It's now. As in now this second, and the second now, and the one after this one, and...well, it's going out of date, but it's seconds, for sure.

 

Cranston: Bloody woman. Can’t you keep things the same way!

 

Snoo: (smiling.) I’m trying to say I’m unhappy, and I love you, you silly little geek!

 

Long pause, as Snoo approaches Cranston, who has frozen. Goes to kiss him, but also goes to pour the glue from the saucepan over him. But Rupio enters, completely drunk. He trips over the rug and falls on the coffee table, smacking his head onto the TV. He slumps over the table, vomiting.

 

Cranston: No, Rupio! You have a cup, puke into that. No excess fluids, please - I have company today! Please, please, please! (Helps Rupio up, but he vomits onto Cranston, and steals his cigarillo. He smokes it, drool slipping out of his mouth. ) You dirty fucker! I CAN’T LIVE WITH THIS FOR MUCH LONGER!

 

Snoo: (helps Rupio to sit, as Cranston tries to remove the sick from his gown, with a napkin.) It’s not that bad, Cranston, it’s only a bit of sick. How did the act go, Rupio, I heard the kids were angry?

 

Rupio: (still vomiting bile.) The kids were fine, it’s their fuckin’ parents, man, they trashed my set. All because I was trying to pioneer my anti-paedophillic propaganda, by showing them puppets doing dirty things. It’s reverse psychology and it always works.

 

Snoo: I don’t think you should’ve done it there. You should’ve made sure the parents weren’t around.

 

Rupio: The kids were loving it, when Granny sucked Croccy’s sausage. I know Grannny’s old, but Croccy was abused. See, I didn’t use a kid puppet - Croccy represented the kid. I showed you earlier, and you were turned on. The kids got it, as usual, and the par-

 

Cranston: (sternly.) I think what you done was stupid; you knew how they’d react. Playing with sex, using it at will. It’s awful. They hate anything that they can’t tell their kids. That’s why I don’t have kids. I'm too honest.

 

Rupio: (drunken chatter; Cranston and Snoo look bored.) Kids are great; I’ve got one back in Lisbon, but the bitch don’t let me near her. Thinks I’m fucked. I don’t think her Dad likes me, either. He’s a builder. It’s because I can’t drive. It’s meant to be manly to drive, but I can’t. So I joined Snoo’s group.

 

Cranston: (to Snoo.) Put this leech to bed - he never stops talking.

 

Rupio: I’m feeling better - shall we get some more drink?

 

Cranston: You’ve had enough! (Beat.) Please, don’t drink anymore! My friends are arriving at twelve.

 

Snoo: And I don’t think it was me cooking the glue. I wouldn’t.

 

Rupio: I think it was Virgil, he’s into that at the moment. He was cooking something earlier.

 

Cranston: (takes out a bent cleaver and throws it down on the sofa; angered.) That guy broke my meat cleaver, cooking fucking glue! (Beat.) Aren’t you going to do anything about this shit, Snoo? (No response.) Huh? I’m going to hack him when I next see him. (Pause; looks at the rug.) You’ve moved the rug. Why did you do that?

 

Snoo: Well, it’s appropriate. My mum done it and so did her mum. So I’m gonna do it. A rug's right. And I come from a middle class family.

 

Rupio: That’s good, you said-

 

Cranston: Don’t you do the cum thing as well. Okay, I’m going to take a bath. My friend is called Boris. He’s an Oxford boy, I think, and I met him at a production of Caligula. So don’t make a bad impression: he’s into the arts like you lot. (Smirks, smugly.) We’re having a debate on the importance of John Grierson upon modern film-making, but I'll slip in some Jennings, too. Don’t annoy us; we’ll be watching Drifters and Fires Were Started. You’ve been warned.

 

Snoo: But I’m putting on 'Staple My Brain'.

 

Cranston: Where?

 

Snoo: Here. In the flat, in this lounge. For Bunty.

 

Cranston: You’re not using my flat as a theatre for your chaos. (Rethinks.) Well, you’re going to have to be quiet. We’re still watching the film - all right? I have to set up my projector soon.

 

Snoo: Whatever.

 

Cranston: (warning.) Do not disturb us. Okay?

 

Rupio: You want to fuck him! (Laughs; Cranston looks flustered.) Go on, pass the time, give him one! We can perform, then you’ll get back and you can watch Dandruff.

 

Snoo: (aggressively.) IT’S ARRANGED! IT’S ALL SORTED! YIPEE!

 

Cranston: Vile bodies, really! No!

 

Cranston exits, in a mood. Snoo and Rupio laugh.

 

Snoo: You’re going to have to sober up; it’s all moving quickly. We’re doing the show today!

 

Rupio: But it’s three in the fuckin’ mornin’?

 

Snoo: You know what you have to do? And it’s not three. It’s earlier. It’s tomorrow.

 

Rupio: (shocked.) What today? Shit, I’ve had no sleep, no fuckin’ sleep, Snoo! (Panics.) I…. I can’t do this, I’m fucked. I think I’m goin’ to have to have some time off. I’ve been meanin’ to tell you, Snoo, but you know how-

 

Snoo lunges at Rupio and smacks his head repetitively against the TV. Rupio screams, then Virgil, who is still under the rug, panics. Virgil screams trying to break free from the rug, shaking the coffee table. Snoo starts to kick Virgil back into unconsciousness. Rupio slides onto the floor, crawling away from Snoo, and reaches for his Croccy puppet. He whacks the puppet against Snoo’s head, and she falls down. Long pause.

 

Rupio: (crying; trying to revive her.) Snoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill you! Let’s rehearse this - I want to help you, Snoo! Seriously, I’m committed to you. Fuck my kid, fuck my puppet.

 

Snoo: (suddenly jumping up, knees Rupio in the groin.) Good. We need commitment. I’ll get Virgil ready and you can be freed. Do what you want.

Rupio: (crying in pain.) Let’s do it! I said let’s do it, didn’t I?!

 

Scene B.

Flat: Lounge: Day: 11:56am.
Rupio is dressed in a cloak and has multi-coloured hair. He wears a feather boa as well, and perches on the sofa, which is now covered in fresh shit, and vomit. Condoms and tampons are draped off it, and the coffee table has been moved and their is now a pram. It has Virgil in it. He is wrapped up in a rug and the TV is on his head. Rupio reveals his hands. On them, he wears a Croccy puppet and a Granny puppet. He cranes over the pram, and Croccy gets raped by the Granny, then Croccy rapes the Granny.

 

Rupio: See, that’s what happens in the future. The Granny fucked Croccy and Croccy grows up, completely fucked up of course; and thinks he can fuck anybody. So Granny - it could be any old person really - gets raped. All for a fiver. It’s a cycle of abuse I was tryin’ to tell the kids about. What’s the fuckin’ point, eh? You understand, Virge, but you’re an artist.

 

Virgil stirs, makes a groaning noise. He sticks his head out of the TV to reveal that the nail in his head has gone further into his head. The blood has dried around it and the drips that have stained his face have also dried. His mouth covered with masking tape, cemented with dried blood, and he looks scared. He rocks in the pram, trying to free himself.

 

Rupio: Don’t get angry about it, Virgil, I know it gets art, but the public just don’t understand. They want pointless fun, don’t they?

Snoo enters, dressed in a black dress with a florescent pink leotard over it. She wears a flat cap, as well. She smokes a cigarillo and drinks some Stella Artois.

 

Snoo: Time for some pointless fun! Oh, what larks we’ll have! (To Virgil , as if he were baby.) Is Virgil excited? Is he? Is he? Oh, ain’t that sweet!

 

Rupio: I still feel sick. I think I’m going to puke.

 

Snoo: If you’re gonna puke, do it during the show. Staple My Brain will commence soon. The indescribable show, the high art with no meaning; but the ultimate emotive affect!

 

Rupio That’s a good way to describe it to Bunty, when he get’s here.

 

Snoo: (pause.) Bad news guys: Bunty can’t make it.

 

Snoo swigs the Stella and finishes her cigarillo, quiclly opens a bottle of vodka as Rupio goes mad, ripping Croccy and Granny puppets off his hands to beat them up. In this time, Snoo gulps the vodka, drinks some resin, takes a handful of pills, then lights a hastily rolled joint, whilst cutting a huge line of coke.

 

Rupio: (distressed; head-locking Croccy, while stamping on Granny.)