Hail Caesar -- some shitty play I wrote a while back.
5 replies, posted
This is an utterly crap one-act I wrote a while ago. For the record, I'd just read [I]Oleanna[/I] very recently. I kind of obviously ripped it off.
Anyway, maybe you think it's better. Have a look.
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[I]There is a homeless man standing at a payphone. He is dressed in a long beige overcoat and a Chicago Bears beanie cap. He has a paper shopping bag by his side. He should be roughly middle aged, with a longish beard. He is standing to the side of the stage.[/I]
BUM: Okay… okay. Okay. Rush-yes. Yeah. Yeah, I just said… okay. And remind me, how large is it? Mmhmm… mmhmm. Yes. That's fine. And how much again? Yeah… yeah… okay, that's fine too. With rush delivery? Fine. And… and yeah. I told you where it was? Right near the Verrazano? Mmhmm. And when will it-[I]tomorrow?[/I] Early tomorrow? Oh, that's fine! Okay. Uh-huh. Well, I'll-mmhmm. Fine. Uh-one last thing: can I pay in cash? Okay, I'll talk to you soon then. Thanks, pal.
[I]He hangs up the phone. There is a sound of a subway car pulling into station. Lights come up on main stage. We see a businessman sitting in the car, large metal suitcase by his side. He is about thirty, and very distant. The bum gets on board. They are alone in the car. The bum sits down next to the businessman, very friendly.[/I]
BUM: Hi.
BUSINESSMAN: Yes.
BUM: (laughs) Yes indeed.
[I]They sit in silence a few moments. There is a sound of doors shutting and the train begins to move again.[/I]
BUM: Wanna see a funny picture?
BUSINESSMAN: Sure.
[I]The bum sticks his hand into his pocket and pulls out a Polaroid. He shows it to the businessman. He simply looks at it.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: That's nice.
BUM: That's my friend there. George. He's dead now. Fun while it lasted though.
BUSINESSMAN: How'd you get the camera?
BUM: George had it. He got film off his unemployment checks.
BUSINESSMAN: Don't you use that to buy food?
BUM: Naw. We had a kid who brought us it. Like one of those squatter types. An artist.
BUSINESSMAN: A douchebag.
BUM: I suppose. Either way, he gets us our meatloaf.
BUSINESSMAN: I had beef stroganoff last night. It was pretty good.
BUM: Wife made it?
BUSINESSMAN: She's a good cook.
BUM: That's a good thing in a wife.
BUSINESSMAN: Of course.
[I]Silence for another beat. The bum scratches at his chin and continues.[/I]
BUM: You're pretty down tonight, ain't you?
BUSINESSMAN: [I](sarcastic)[/I] How'd you know?
BUM: I'm a psychic. I can tell the future too. And I'm also a good listener. So come on, pal, spill your guts.
BUSINESSMAN: [I](sigh)[/I] Okay. Okay. I'll tell you. I guess you don't watch the stocks too much, maybe you just use the Wall Street Journal for sheets, but there was a massive drop in my company's shares. I mean massive. As in, we had security guards posted near the windows to make sure no one jumped. (Pause) A little joke. At any rate, I was… fairly high up in the company. Working my way up the ranks. I had to do damage control, even though I'd lost everything. The last thing I had to do was sell our chaperone. I had to [I]sell[/I] him. Make some calls and give him to some rich asshole. Thirty thousand dollars. As if it'd help anyone.
BUM: [I](Beat)[/I] Well that just sucks.
BUSINESSMAN: Big time. I'm in the shit for millions. I have nothing but the change in my pocket. I couldn't call home or anything. I'm screwed, basically.
BUM: That's… an amazing coincidence, pal.
BUSINESSMAN: What? Did it happen to you too? Are you gonna be my counselor or something?
BUM: Nope, I was just thinking… naw, I shouldn't tell you. It's not right.
[I]The businessman takes him by the shoulder.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: Look, friend. I've heard the worst news in my life today. Anything you could possibly tell me wouldn't faze me.
BUM: Well… you see this bag here?
BUSINESSMAN: Yes.
BUM: Look inside it.
[I]He does. He leans back after a moment.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: You're a lucky man.
BUM: That's not all of it, though. That's only what was left over from today.
BUSINESSMAN: Really?
BUM: Yeah.
BUSINESSMAN: Lucky you. How much do you have?
BUM: Ten million.
BUSINESSMAN: What, did you count it all out?
BUM: Actually, yeah. Six hours last night.
BUSINESSMAN: That seems about enough time. Congratulations.
BUM: Thanks.
BUSINESSMAN: That'll get you a lot of Thunderbird, won't it?
BUM: [I](laughs)[/I] Yeah. A lifetime supply.
BUSINESSMAN: Don't go getting black teeth now.
BUM: Naw, I'm responsible.
BUSINESSMAN: That's a good trait. The suits on the seventieth floor could learn from you.
BUM: I've got a plan for what I'm gonna do with that money. See, I used to be a banker, I know what people like me do with money once they get it. And truth be told, I have indulged myself a little, gotten some stuff for the guys I bunk with. But I'm gonna be smart about this: I'll deposit the money slowly and carefully over six months, leaving a little for myself. I help the guys out and get them to a shelter. I live the high life until the end of my days.
BUSINESSMAN: How optimistic.
BUM: You know, there was always something about a million dollars that I found funny. I remember thinking as a kid how much it'd suck to get a million bucks. See, the way I figured it, you spend a single dollar of that million, wham! You're not a millionaire anymore.
BUSINESSMAN: I thought the same thing when I was growing up.
BUM: So basically, millionaire is a bad deal. Multimillionaires are way better off. [I](Beat)[/I] Oh, but shit-I forgot all about you. You need anything?
BUSINESSMAN: I'll think about it. It's still a ways to Central Park.
BUM: You got a penthouse there?
BUSINESSMAN: Until the repo men come. Can I borrow your box for a while?
BUM: [I](Laughs)[/I] That's what I like, pal! Making the best of a bad situation. Hell, I wish I was like you when I got in the shitter, I would've been outta there in twenty minutes.
BUSINESSMAN: My penthouse has a nice view of the park. Apparently, no two bridges in the park are the same.
BUM: Never knew that.
BUSINESSMAN: Me neither.
BUM: You ever get up in the morning and watch the sun rise over the Reservoir?
BUSINESSMAN: Nope.
BUM: Mind-blowing, pal. Now you got plenty of time to do it.
BUSINESSMAN: I guess I do.
[I]They sit in silence for a minute. The train stops a few times but no one else gets on.[/I]
BUM: What's in the suitcase?
BUSINESSMAN: [I](Beat)[/I] A little insurance policy.
BUM: Like what?
BUSINESSMAN: Nothing really.
BUM: Come on pal. I opened up to you, now you need to open up to me.
BUSINESSMAN: This isn't a therapy group, friend. It's the MTA.
BUM: Come on. I promise I won't tell.
BUSINESSMAN: [I](Beat)[/I] Don't ask me why we had it or what we used it for. Frankly I don't know entirely myself.
[I]He spins the locks and opens the case. The bum peers in and is in shock[/I]
BUM: That's… some heavy ordnance.
BUSINESSMAN: I like it. You see how when you put the magazine in it it looks like a big T? I like that.
BUM: …isn't that the clip?
BUSINESSMAN: Clip goes in the magazine; magazine goes in the gun.
BUM: Duly noted.
BUSINESSMAN: I've got enough rounds for every student at most inner-city schools. Nine millimeter can do wonders if you use it right.
BUM: Look pal, let's take it easy now.
BUSINESSMAN: I took it easy yesterday. I had dinner at one of those restaurants where the walls are all white with poetry painted on them and the portions are tiny but still cost seventy-five twenty. I hit up the driving range. I bought some Miles Davis on iTunes. Today we had to scramble. I'm just going with the flow.
BUM: Look pal… what are you gonna do?
BUSINESSMAN: Inspiration comes randomly for me, friend. I'm still not entirely sure.
BUM: Uh… I think… I… well, maybe you should, uh…
BUSINESSMAN: Take your time.
BUM: Look-that gun'll probably fetch you five thousand. At the least. I can give you thirty thousand as well, that'll get you out on the right foot.
BUSINESSMAN: Thank you. That's very nice. But we've crossed the Rubicon.
BUM: Pal-you've got plenty to live for. Okay? There's lots to live for.
BUSINESSMAN: I agree. Entirely. Sure, all my money's gone, but otherwise I'm a lucky man. I have Sarah after all. She's great. A good cook, like I said. And my stepdaughters. Helen's sixteen and Antonia's ten.
BUM: That's nice.
BUSINESSMAN: I figure a man should have his options. I just hope the walls are soundproofed. Wait… yeah, they are. My neighbors screw like rabbits, and I would've heard them without soundproofing, so we're good on that front.
BUM: …look, pal. Please. Consider everything for a moment.
BUSINESSMAN: I have. How much money did you say you had?
BUM: Ten million.
BUSINESSMAN: The coincidences just [I]do not end[/I], friend. I'm in it for ten million.
[I]The businessman pulls out the magazine and begins loading rounds into it.[/I]
BUM: …well.
BUSINESSMAN: Well indeed. Where do you live?
BUM: Staten Island.
BUSINESSMAN: Pretty upscale neighborhood for a vagrant.
BUM: I know. We live in a run down old house.
BUSINESSMAN: And you trust your friends not to take your money?
BUM: They know I'll throw something back their way.
BUSINESSMAN: I wish I had friends like yours. Trustworthy.
[I]The train stops again. We hear the doors open.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: This is my stop.
BUM: …don't get off. I'll take you to the money.
BUSINESSMAN: How lovely of you.
[I]The train pulls out again.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: Where do we get off for Staten Island?
BUM: It's a while off. There's a stop near a bus depot, I get on there.
BUSINESSMAN: You're a very generous man. All I'll need to do is come up with some bullshit explanation for the missus and we're home free.
BUM: Yeah. Take your kids to Coney Island and everything.
BUSINESSMAN: …unless you're lying.
BUM: What?
BUSINESSMAN: How much is in the bag?
BUM: What?
BUSINESSMAN: How much. Is in. The bag.
BUM: A hundred thousand.
BUSINESSMAN: That's a lot of loose change. What were you gonna do, pay everyone's parking meters?
BUM: Shit, pal, I hope you realize what you're doing. You're taking everything from me. I mean, imagine what you're going through right now. Now image it happening twice.
BUSINESSMAN: Don't change the subject. Let's consider what's going down right now: I've met a vagrant on the subway carrying a hundred thousand dollars in a paper shopping bag… from Julius's Grocery in Hell's Kitchen, and he tells me he has ten million dollars stashed at his crackhouse in Staten Island. Do I believe the vagrant? He certainly has been courteous with me, very open and very optimistic. He doesn't drool on me like every other infested scum-sucking nigger vagabond in this city. He has that much going for him. But supposing he's lying? Supposing I get to his home in Staten Island and his little fuck-buddies come rushing out, overwhelming me and taking away my Uzi? And supposing the money was counterfeit to boot?
BUM: I'm not lying. I swear, pal.
BUSINESSMAN: I don't trust anyone right now, friend. Nothing personal, but the circumstances more than make up for my attitude.
BUM: I just don't want to die. Okay? I'll give you the money-
BUSINESSMAN: And I don't believe you.
BUM: I know there's no way to prove it, but you'll just have to trust me for a few minutes, okay?
BUSINESSMAN: Like the dipshits in charge of my company when they gave all of my money to some scamming Prince-of-Nigeria type? No thanks. I'm not ignoring common sense anymore, that's last week thinking.
BUM: Please. I don't want anyone to get hurt.
BUSINESSMAN: Wanting does shit.
[I]A beat. The bum stares. The businessman stares. The bum goes for the gun; the businessman slams the case shut on his hand. The bum screams in pain. The businessman opens the case again, and the bum pulls his hand free.[/I]
BUM: Goddamnit!
BUSINESSMAN: It's hardly the worst thing I'm going to do today.
BUM: What?
BUSINESSMAN: Give me five hundred dollars.
[I]The bum obliges. The businessman stuffs it into his pocket and shuts the case. He stands near the door.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: Charity is a very nice thing, friend. Even when I was living my big-shot yuppie lifestyle I still sent some money towards Habitat for Humanity. And you-if you're not lying, that is-you've got lots of money, which could feed a lot of hungry mouths.
BUM: No shit.
BUSINESSMAN: That's why I'm not taking your money. Not a cent beyond these five hundred dollars. I figure there's people worse off than me out there.
BUM: You've got a fucking Uzi on the subway and a bunch of dirty thoughts in your head-[I]I'd say you're pretty bad off.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: I don't think so. I'll consider it after dinner. I'm going home.
BUM: No you aren't. You're coming with me. We're getting the money.
BUSINESSMAN: You need it. You take it. Feed your friends and some starving kids in Africa. I'm dead already. I'm not worth it.
BUM: You're breathing, aren't you?
BUSINESSMAN: Nope. Stopped doing that at eleven in the AM.
BUM: Pal, don't. Just don't.
BUSINESSMAN: Friend, I have to. I just have to. [I](He smiles)[/I] I just walked into a golden opportunity.
[I]The train stops and we hear the doors open. The businessman steps out.[/I]
BUSINESSMAN: Enjoy your nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand and five hundred dollars.
[I]Exit the businessman. The bum sits in silence for a moment.[/I]
BUM: …shit.
[I]Black.[/I]
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Yeah. It's shit, but still. C&C.
Also, send a little loving to my Deviantart page. That's where I've got it posted: [url]http://allscalmonarizonabay.deviantart.com/[/url]
Amazing and humorous. Some of the dialogue feels a little off for the characters, but otherwise I'd see that.
It's really not that bad. I've read much worse.
I could see it in my head.
Thanks for the tips.
As for me calling it shit, I just try my hardest to maintain a hatred for my own work. Like Kafka did. It makes it that much easier to accept criticism when you think you're the worst writer in the world.
It's great actually
I like it! Definately worth the read.
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