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

gummy bear, aren’t I? I’m sorry, Boris, I fucked it cos I need a piss.

 

Cranston: (crying.) DON’T YOU DARE PISS IN THE TEAPOT! DON’T! DON’T! DON’T! You owe me, Snoo! I WANT A TEAPOT AND I WANT MY FRIENDS BACK! I don’t believe this: I knew this would happen, they like you , and hate me. And I’m not fucked. Is that the way to survive in this society, by being fucked? Tell me, you puppet! (Smacks Rupio weakly.) Why did you try to fuck me! Don’t pretend you didn’t! You saw, didn’t you, Kara! (Kara is locked in a stunned silence.) I know you’re not fucked.

 

Snoo: I forgot to eat the baby! SHIT! I FORGOT TO EAT MY FUCKIN’ BABY! I HATE FUCKIN’ KIDS!! I fucked up the piece!

 

Snoo starts chewing at the rug viciously; Rupio is being beaten to a bloody pulp by Cranston who knocks the lamp over. Darkness. As we hear Boris applauding from the dark. Kara then screams, as the light is turned on. Boris throws down his notepad.

 

Boris: (to Snoo, who is still rug chewing; hugging her) That was…oh, I’ve come. Right in my pants. Amazing, Snoo. I can’t describe it…And you’re still struggling? You deserve a piss up after that. Cranston, do calm down. I do apologise for him and Kara. She’s scared.

 

Kara: (finishes the vodka.) No, I’m not: I thought that was mind-blowing. It was my life, I could relate anything to it, and it said everything without saying anything. What was it called again?

 

Snoo: You know, I can’t remember, it was…

 

Boris: A very different experience. It’ll get people thinking again, it pushed boundaries and I found it very relevant to today’s society: completely …what’s the word?

 

Snoo: Fucked? I feel fucked.

 

Kara: (enthusiastically; hugs Snoo, who looks baffled.) It done something, it just helped me! Made me want to kill myself, but it freed me as well.

 

Boris: That’s soooo interesting, it's a very modern illness. I think you should have suicide in it, Snoo.

 

Pause.

 

Snoo: (baffled.) But-

 

Boris: No, I think you should. Take my advice. It’s free and I like you. I’m very impressed!

 

Snoo: (excited; wipes away tears.) You like it? YOU LIKE IT! (Crying uncontrollably.) I’m so pleased you liked it, even though I forgot to eat the baby!

 

Cranston: (shocked; wiping blood off his fists.) Boris, it’s fucking crap. FUCKING CRAP! Why did you kick me! Why? (Referring to Rupio.) He tried to fuck me; I’m calling the Police!

 

Boris: I’m sorry, I get passionate about my art! Let’s not get the police involved in the professional world!

 

Cranston: (snidely to Snoo.) They're not professionals!

 

Boris: Who cares? You’re not either but you pretend to be one, don’t you? It’s only a word.

 

Cranston: No, don’t attack me, I’m not fucked!

 

Boris: You’ve got an attention problem: you want my approval and attention all the time! Well, I don’t want yours. You tried to ruin a brilliant performance - all for your petty opinions! Another thing: I’m with Kara. I’m not going to get with you!

 

Kara: (Beat.) I’m not with you, Boris. I like many sexes, especially those from Saturn.

 

Boris: I know, but we could be one, sometime, of course. I don’t want to be with him though! He’s fucked!

Cranston cries, hugging Snoo, as she cries. She sits on Virgil, still in the rug. They lift Virgil and the pram back up. They clear up, crying together and throwing much of the junk into the pram.

 

Kara: (gushing.) Snoo’s a true artist, I love her. (Hugs Snoo, kissing her.) I love you, Snoo! Please love me, PLEASE! (Snoo does not respond.) It's fine if you don't, though my life is a bliss of living deaths. I will live for you!

 

Boris: (perving, openly stroking his penis.) Can I join in? (Chuckling to himself.) It’s like being a hippy this, eh?

 

Snoo: (to Cranston; suddenly blubbering to him.) They like us, they like us! This is the happiest day of my life! (To Rupio; patting him on the head.) They like us, Rupio! We've done it!

 

Boris: (reading from a torn page from his note pad.) I loved the immersion, it was real. And, I felt, it could have been more realistic, if we’d actually seen the suicide. I like the world - Kubarro. Interesting, but it’s the Lizard Queen’s death. It’s a vague link to Jim Morrison and John Lee Hooker, isn’t it? Do you like to ride the snake? To be honest, I don’t get the relevance of a pointless pop cultural nod, when the feeling is there. It's there. You know? Can you see and feel it? Don’t blur it and confuse it when it says so much! Just let it linger! You-

 

Snoo: (confused; wipes her tears, pushing Kara off her. Approaches Boris, aggravated.) But I just fucking OD’d!

 

Boris: And with better equipment you can have decent effects and a better use of music. Maybe some bangers too. It’ll aid the overdose, as you call it; it's a very cool product, Snoo. Very meow, very now. Of course, Snoo, I mean it's only very now in a slightly oldey retro new way. (Pause; checks his notes again and rubs his penis against Snoo.) You need music, something hardcore, and shocking to go with the theme. The theme is destruction, isn’t it? Yes?

 

Snoo: No…Yes.... No, it’s... Whatever! Boredom is the theme. Anyway, music dates. These themes don’t; they’re universally speaking. I’m not changing!

 

Boris: (throughout this speech, Snoo gets very angry and jumps on the spot.) That’s what I thought you’d say, but it needs that killer punch and that release! It’s too bleak, dear girl. It’s real, but it isn’t popular reality: set up the debate, and then you can do your fuck up thing! I know bleak is cool, and you should give no answers to the questions you pose. I think that’s good, really trendy. Are you into gangbong rap - gang-star spelt ending in S.T.A? Or drum-umm-base. Or Drum N. Basil? I think it’s a form of garage music - I reckon Hendrix said who knows! Do you? Well, there you go - no one knows! And I noted the tortured stereotypes; very strong. You know I envisaged you might need the characters in jam-jars to demonstrate it more effectively. You should accept criticism, Snoo. That’s life. But the plus side is: I liked that sample. And I loved the dead body! Brilliant!

 

Snoo: (losing interest.) Do you? I’m lost? You taking the piss?

 

Boris: (smugly.) I don’t want to get too intellectual. (Takes a pathfinder radio from his pocket and tunes it; it makes a sound as he tunes it.) Let’s decide a soundtrack - is that okay with you, Cranston.

 

Cranston: (mumbling.) Do what you want. (Crawls into the corner, with a bit of the broken bottle; sulks.) DO WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT!

 

Boris: Ooh, someone’s got P.M.T.

 

Snoo: (unsure laugh; Boris laughs louder) That’s very good. I didn’t even know he was gay.

 

Boris: He’s not; just a boring farty-pants. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention, I liked the Penis Queen imagery - that’s how you saw yourself in your mind, right? (Snoo looks baffled and lights a cigarillo.) That’s fascinating. Especially the commentary on drugs and kiddie-shit. The puppets conveyed that strongly. That’s very cool. It is trendy - this sort of thing, that is cool - at the moment. It won’t be popular though. I’m trying to get this radio station, which is apparently a pirate one; I don’t think I can get Cuss FM in here. I believed it, but I didn’t. There was that part of me that was very, very, worried. You needed to express that to believe the death - I believed the pain. It was relevant, but not the death. I’ve issues with the way the death was executed.

 

Snoo: (angrily.) Look, I can do dying, okay? I’m good dead! I can do dead. I think. (Tense pause.) THIS IS BULLSHIT, YOU’RE CHATTING BULLSHIT! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT MEANS! YOU KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT ME, OR WHAT I DO! I’LL GIVE YOU DEATH; THIS IS ME! (Composes herself.) Stop fiddling with that fucking old radio and watch, okay.

 

Boris: Sure. You watching, Kara? Snoo’s such a determined artist, revelling in her pain!

 

Kara: Oh, yes, I’ve learnt so much, Boris. You do know some interesting people! (Overjoyed; to Snoo.) I don’t need medication, when I see things like this. I love this pain! We should all go for a drink soon?

 

Snoo: WATCH!

 

Snoo takes off Rupio’s feather boa, jumps onto the sofa, balancing awkwardly, and attaches the boa to the light. Snoo ties a noose around her neck.

 

Kara: (happily.) I’m happy, for once , I’ve found something to relate to and believe in. That aggression is…I can’t explain, but-

 

Boris: I know, I feel it.

 

Cranston: (he has cut his wrists with the broken bottle; they are dripping with blood. He screams, then stands and composes himself.) Thank you for coming, Boris. I’m sorry this evening has been a bit strange and I don’t normally do things thing like this. Thanks for the company, Kara. Nice to meet you. I’ll be in my room.

 

Cranston collapses, nobody cares.

 

Boris: Bye. (To Kara.) He’s such an attention seeker, who just latches on to artistic people. I don’t like him, I thought he was cultured, but he’s too into himself. No-one should be made to care about that sort of self-indulgence.

Kara: (smiling.) He’s probably going to kill himself. All over an old film - and this play!

 

They laugh.

 

Snoo: You two watching! WATCH FUCKERS! I’ll understand what you mean, I’ll be back and I’ll make you a cuppa, or you’ll have to meet us down the pub, or wherever, later on.

 

Snoo, aggressively throwing down the cigarillo, which starts a fire in the pram. It looks like a funeral pyre for Virgil, and this spreads ridiculously quickly across the room. Snoo jumps off the sofa and hangs herself. Kara and Boris applaud. Snoo hangs motionless, dead even though her feet touch the ground; she wants to be dead. There is a pause, as we hear the fire burn. Kara and Boris look baffled. Kara and Boris cough and splutter, clutching each other in fear. They back away towards the doorway, as the fire engulfs more of the room. We then hear Boris trying to tune the radio again.

 

Kara:(distressed; depressed again.) She killed herself...Why did she do that? I don’t get it.(Angered; to Boris.) I DON’T GET IT! WHY THE FUCK DID SHE DO THAT?

 

Boris: Blasted personal trauma the professional world will never understand! I’m rationalizing the irrational, but she wasn’t a happy bunny. She had a lot to prove, but did not know how to go about it. it is a great shame, really; I would’ve liked to seen her eat the baby.

Kara cries uncontrollably, as Boris hugs her, both still coughing, smoke engulfs them.

 

Kara: (looks for her pills, but cannot find them; panics.) It can’t end like this, it’s fading - burning away into nothing! Not like that, Boris! (Collapses crying, having a pseudo-seizure.) NOT LIKE THAT!

 

Boris: I’ll find some music, as a memorial. We'll do a e-one too - online that is, Kara! We should evacuate, though - I need music first though.

 

We hear sirens wailing in the distance; Boris tunes a radio, gagging. We hear:

 

Radio Presenter: Yes folks, and that was the fabulous Kane Gang with their nineteen-eighty-five smash hit, Gun Law. Now for something completely different...

 

As the fire burns the lounge, and the lights dim, but we hear the tide, Boris hugs Kara, still having violent spasms.

 

THREE

 

Penthouse panic room. LALIO is nursing TARVOA. LALIO is sitting down on the floor; TARVOA is now laying down too - her head is resting on LALIO'S gooey lap, as LALIO films herself fondling TARVOA with her camera phone.

 

LALIO(making a call to PIP as well as filming TARVOA; on speakerphone.) You had one bad trip baby, you're still in that space - that scary headpsace and all that shit!

 

PIP(off, can be heard through the speakerphone.) I don't know - what happened just then? I'm seeing things. I can't tell