Cast
ACT ONE
SCENE
STAGE EFFECT: The silence is broken by an order call; these calls vary (five rolled tacos, combination number 5, etc.)
JAKE (tapping to get ANDY’S attention)
ANDY
JAKE
ANDY spots the DRIVER’S SIDE GIRL sipping beer as she sits behind the steering wheel. He’s friendly without being flirty.
ANDY (imitating police officer)
DRIVER’S SIDE GIRL (caught off guard)
ANDY
ANGRY BOY FRIEND approaches ANDY from behind.
DSG
ANDY
JAKE
ANDY (to JAKE without looking)
JAKE
ANDY
DSG
ANDY
JAKE
DRIVER’S SIDE GIRL looks over ANDY’S shoulder to ANGRY BOYFRIEND.
DSG
ANDY (hands up peacefully)
ANGRY BOYFRIEND
ANGRY BOYFRIEND knocks ANDY’S ball cap off his head in contempt.
Note:
Onstage: ANGRY BOYFRIEND approaches ANDY as he bends over to retrieve his hat. ANDY notices this and gets weary of a sucker punch as he bends for his hat.
ANDY (dryly)
JAKE
ANDY
ANGRY BOYFRIEND
DSG
ANDY(peacefully)
ANGRY BOYFRIEND
A couple of ANGRY BOYFRIEND’S drinking buddies enter to stomp JAKE and ANDY. ANGRY BOYFRIEND grabs ANDY by the collar roughly. The scene’s tension peaks as ANGRY BOYFRIEND pulls back for a punch.
NOTE:
CONTESTING PATRON:(Irate)
Onstage: ANDY’S eyes glance toward the commotion in the audience. ANGRY BOYFRIEND notices ANDY’S lack of fear and glances to the audience annoyed with the interruption, but stays furious at ANDY. Stage goes black.
END SCENE
CUT: Angle on- JAKE & ANDY sitting on a dilapidated couch nestled above the backyard crowd on a bank of ice plant. The couch appears to have weathered some months on the hill and rests in compliment to the landscape of cactus and ice plant. JAKE & ANDY each hold a Magnum 40oz malt liquor bottle, sipping and conversing languidly.
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
What’s your assessment of Laura and I? I mean, without sounding insecure, I ask out of having been fooled by my own amorous fantod.
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
JAKE:
Andy’s emotional rant ends and the banter stops as the sound of the band tuning-up for their next set interrupts the din of the crowd. Jake finishes his 40.
JAKE:
Andy:
STAGE RIGHT: Night. JAKE
TIM: (on the phone with an angry neighbor)
EL DIABLO
TIM
(Hangs up phone.)
JAKE
ANDY
EMILIO enters the kitchen from the side yard. His post at the gate is visible and someone is standing his guard for him. He proceeds somewhat oafishly through the crowd, a few of the party guests take notice of his height, as they are startled from drunken conversations as he passes. His gesture indicating his desire to speak with one of the three (TIM, ANDY, or JAKE) captures the length of his sweeping arm.
Jake and Tim walk toward the back bedrooms down a long hallway in avoiding the messages call for a confrontation. Their simultaneous turn down the hall leaves Andy behind.
TIM
ANDY
TIM
STAGE EFFECT: A slide of the Little Kings label is shown on stage right.
TIM slips the bottles from each bag revealing two green 40oz Little Kings.
TIM:(partially singing)
ANDY
JAKE
As they exit the living room through a sliding glass door, they pass the pig-pong table and the patio bar, moving some of the outdoor barstools aside, as they twist open their beers. They stand around the basketball court in the back yard. Tim begins the game, making four three-point range shots. He makes a gesture like an animal trainer raising his arm toward Jake.
TIM
Jake lines up and hits the first two shots, missing badly on the third.
ANDY
Jake drinks his share as Andy approaches the line. Andy hits all three shots to close out the round but misses as egregiously, much like Jake’s former miss.
JAKE
ANDY
ANDY paces for a full minute before he realizes something.
ANDY
JAKE
ANDY
.
STAGE EFFECT: Slide of an empty, green Merlot bottle in morning sunlight.
A pair of eyes open in the translucence of the image and Andy’s waking face comes into focus. Gingerly he slides over LAURA who’s sleeping contently. Andy’s bare foot rests on the pile of close on the floor and he shakes himself from the sheets trying not to wake his girlfriend. Successful, he walks into the bathroom and begins to urinate.
ANDY
LAURA
They embrace under the sheets and begin to make love in the reticulated light. The wind moves the blinds a bit and then faint sounds of someone walking in the side yard next to the window are heard. LAURA moves in a sensual repetition on top of ANDY. The sheets discarded in their ecstasy are wound in a lump on the floor.
Stage Left: STEVE stands in the side yard with a long-nozzled aerosol can and sprays toward the eve of the house over Andy’s bedroom window.
STAGE EFFECT: SLIDE of canister reads “Rankle Wasp Nest Remover”.
CUT—INT.
Back in the bedroom Andy’s undulating quickly on top of LAURA. Both lovers vividly enjoying their simultaneous climax as the room fills with wasps. Andy face turns from a sexual grimace to a painful one.
ANDY
LAURA’S moans of delectation end with a scream witch quickly follow Andy’s angry shout in response to the wasp that has just laid into his back. They bounce up from the bed naked and run from the room, which is now rife with buzzing wasps.
LAURA and ANDY run off stage.
Stage Right: JAKE sits on the couch holding some device to his chest. Andy sits in an adjacent couch perpendicular to JAKE’s. They’re watching Jeopardy and drinking beer. CUT: Close shot on microwave—a rotating Italian entrée bubbles behind the glass.
CONTESTANT:
TRABEC:
SPOT LIGHT on microwave held: Contestant buzzes in, the microwave beeps and the entree stops rotating as the oven-light extinguishes.
TRABEC:
CONTESTANT:
Andy gets up, walks into the kitchen.
ANDY:
JAKE:
ANDY:
END SCENE
........Jake
........Andy
........Annabelle
........Jen
........Tim
........Driver’s Seat Girl
........Angry Boyfriend
........El Diablo
........Emilio
Fernandez’ Tacos. A 24-hour Taco Shop where people eat at picnic tables after the bars close. Various neon signs decorate the area. ANDY and JAKE stand in front of the Order Here window awaiting their food. In one of the parked cars DRIVER’S SEAT GIRL sips on a beer. Four young men in bowler hats hang out with their backs to the audience. They’re dress indicative of a thuggish stereotype is offset by their hats. They gesture violently throughout the first act and maintain sideline significance until the climax.
What did you get?
Veggie burrito. You?
Carne asada, the usual suspect.
I’ll need to see your keys, young lady.
Why?
Because friends don’t let friends drink and drive.
Is that a DARE t-shirt under that coat?
Do you know that Budweiser rhymes with Breath-o-lizer?
Hey Andy-
What?
Your order-
All right, thanks.
And your point is? (Gestures)
Five minutes, bottle to throttle, that’s what I always say.
Hey Andy-
I’m his ride.
Drive safe.
Stay the hell away from my girlfriend!
In the audience an usher has asked an unsuspecting male to produce his ticket. The man seated will obviously react with surprise. The contesting patron and his wife stand impatiently while the surprised man looks for his ticket. The usher ignores the man’s stalling and tries to resolve the situation quietly.
If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get that.
All right kids, fun’s over. If you can’t play nice…
I was just trying to redirect things. I saw a potentially bad scene on the horizon, just trying to watch out for—
It’s my car, I’ll drive-
I’m his ride-
Ride safe.
Why don’t you get the fuck out of here!
In audience: at this point the USHER has the unsuspecting patron standing. AT THE SAME TIME the ANGRY BOYFRIEND initiates a fight onstage, the CONTESTING PATRON looses his temper at the UNSUSPECTING PATRON.
For Christ’s sake man! The play has started! Get your own seat, pal!
A warehouse of wicker windpipes.
A glove-box of glucose gum-lines.
A pouch of plastic pupils.
An escritoire of elastic earlobes.
Um, bustin’ out the escritoire! OK, here we go. Humh…
A shed of shellacked shins.
I’ll drink to that. How about a cove of corrugated calves.
I thought we were sticking to body parts, internal or external?
Yeah, not a calf as in baby cow; the back of the lower leg kinda calves. Drink for doubting, Biatznolovitch!
(Resuming after a long swig.) You think Steve’s a lycanthrope?
How am I supposed to know what a lycanthrope is?
Ya know, the hypertricanosis condition where you grow hair all over your body: your back, face, hands, and eyelids--your entire body.
Yeah, like the dog faced boy and all that werewolf folklore.
Well, it’s a real condition. Either Steve’s a wookie or a lycanthrope.
He’s obviously a Sasquatch.
And Sherlock’s obviously a yeti.
Draft tech.-yeti no less! (Tilts back with a sip.) Oh, did you here about Sherlock’s newest furniture acquisition.
I know about the vibrating couch; that thing is one arrow-dynamic hammock of good feelin’.
Nah, this has to do with Lynn and Trent. Ya know how Annabelle was always comin’ onto Trent, even when Lynn was right there. And of course they’ve never got along, Lynn and Annabelle. Well, Trent finally gave in to the vixen’s advance.
Annabelle, that Pocahontas. Who can blame Trent?
OK, so you know after a while they banished her from their social circle telling Sherlock that he couldn’t hang out with her anymore.
Sherlock, a victim of the friend appraisal committee?
Since he was getting tired of her beddin’-down with all his brethren, he told her to get lost. So about three months or so pass and Trent decides to tell Lynn about his breach of fidelity, of course while they’re both on acid. I’m thinkin’ she’s gonna have a spontaneous hysterectomy over the whole thing, but she forgives him. She does insist though that he get rid of the carnal couch. When she stayed over before they’d moved it into Sherlock’s room they slept on the floor.
He comes clean while they’re both trippin’. Damn, was that the night we were over there for Lynn’s B-day?
Yeah, that’s right, it was her B-day. Perfect timing.
They’ve been pretty serious—went out to Florida to meet his parents and all.
If anythin’s gonna rough up your nuptials, that oughta do it.
You have to remember I like the no hassle days when Laura, you and I were all friends burning down the blinds in the Lamont pad and going on joker-lip walks down to Stingers. There’s some nostalgia there that holds strong. But I’m happy, ultimately that you two are having fun with your relationship. Just maintain, man. Keep it casual. It seems lately, Laura’s changing the rules on you a bit. She gets pretty jealous when you approached other women with your patented nice guy act.
A Thespian I’m not! I just enjoy messing with people, lightening the mental load a bit.
Perceptions are a turbulent mirror, man. Laura doesn’t see it that way. You’re a Don Juan as far as her protective friends are concerned and your lucky some of us have the background to know your just dandy Andy.
Well I can see what you saying. Laura and I, recognize, as an honest couple, our individual dreams, how they differ and how we are torn in our hearts by our own situation. We can agree that relationships at certain stages require focused effort from each mate, and when a distance imparts itself, when a couple appears to be growing apart from one another, their minds must coax their hearts and urge open, honest communication committed to strengthening their union.
Union. Mason-Dixon line. I’m listening, go ahead.
I became aware of the distance in our relationship that arose of our differing social interest. I’ll avoid details. It got to the point where I was expected to attend all of her softball games and join her new set of friends, but she made no effort to involve herself in my life. And just from the way I’ve use the dividing language of ‘her life/my life’ indicates the separation that I feel she’s most responsible for having delineated what used to be our life. All I want to ensure is that this whole relationship doesn’t evolve into…a dung load of domestic dogma.
The monotony of the “matrimonious” manhole.
(Pause) We broke the formula.
I’m gonna head down, switch up to the big barrel. You wanna cup?
Yeah, I’ll cover ya. I gotta rough-up my own nuptials.
Whas-the-dealie-o?
Diablo’s all irate about the noise. (Returning to the phone conversation.) Sir, I will not tolerate such language. Now I’d like to take care of the problem for you, however, I will not answer to belligerent grievances. Now, I’ll..(Pause)No, Sir your foul language is unacceptable.
(Faint, angry voice over the receiver.) I’m calling’ the cops! You disrespectin’ little shits makin’ noise like this every weekend and I gotta sleep.
We can’t take your call at this time. Please call during our business hours.
He’s gonna call Gooman man out on us.
Oh, and I guess I’ll get to deal with him again. I’m starting a portfolio of signature series noise complaints: The Waterfall Files.
EMILIO
Five-O’s on the driveway.
I’ve taken the liberty of scheduling a round of Sink it or Drink it involving the usual suspects. You’re in, Andy. Jake’s takin’ on the Magnum and you might guess what I’ve subjected us to.
Something fit for a King in this heat?
Oh let it be the truth my brother. So it is. So it is.
Lemmie get a witness. The Little Kings.
Is your love strong enough?
It’ll be a long stanky, emetic exercise, but I’m up for the challenge. Runnin’ the cream ale gauntlet.
Man you guys are bearing’ down for a lesson I’ve already learned. It’s hotter than the pizza boys deep dish out there, and you’re gonna tackle that green grog.
Let’s see it!
Three swigs Jake. Magnums away.
Air-Ball, that would be three pugs to your punk-ass mug!
Sip it down, clown!
Sho-nuff, had it coming.
Listen: when you give up everything, you can accomplish anything. Only by maximum freedom is maximum growth possible.
That’s brilliant.
I didn’t come up with it, I just heard it last night in that psychology class.
I just woke from one of those dreams. Ya-know how I keep havin’ dreams about what you’re dreaming. This time you were dreaming about Bukowksi and Camus sitting under a bridge drinking wine.
(Sleepily) Um-hum.
The foggy spray dissipates revealing a congealed wasp nest and a growing throng of escaping wasps. STEVE runs from the yard dropping the canister.
ARRGH-WHAT-THE-FUCK.
Industrial Mysticism for three-hundred, Alex.
Persian deity of cosmic forces or this automobile company.
Julie
What is Mazda?
(Opening the microwave) This shit looks like a hot bowl of earwax smothered over glazed, severed earlobes! Brown Sauce?
Mama Moleste doesn’t fill you up. It takes four of those damn things before I even begin to feel like I’ve eaten. What are they 99 cents apiece?
(Still holding a contraption to his hairy chest.) You’re better off hittin’-up Taco Fiesta for a bean and rice. At least those clog your colon for a while.
You’re right, let me get my jacket and we’ll head out.