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SCENE 1
The kitchen is a pit of filth. Mounds of unwashed crockery vastly outnumber
the few clean pots on the rancid draining board. A table, centre stage,
dominates the room, itself dominated by piles of junk; more plates and
bowls, boxes, magazines, ashtrays, hats and scarves, etc. etc. Amid all
this clutter sits JAKE, a young man with a clean-cut appearance - apart
from a small plaster on the corner of his mouth - totally at odds with
his surroundings, slumped in a broken wooden chair. As he talks, he becomes
more animated and begins walking around the table, flicking at various
objects.
JAKE
There is only one kind of scum, and we are it. We are all of us scum. All
filthy, hideous scum, the worst kind. The only kind. We live in a pit, why?
There’s no excuse for what we do to ourselves, except that we know we deserve
it because we are scum. We bring pissed-up stangers back to our stinking holes
of rooms and fuck them in squalor while everyone about listens through paper
walls, some annoyed, some turned on. When they awake in the morning, their
screams are not at the realisation of who they are with, but where they are.
We’re desperate, we stink and we all hate each other.
At this point, NATASHA, a teenage girl dressed entirely in rags, sits up through
the junk on the table, where she has been, unseen, since the curtain raised.
NATASHA
Yeah, but.. whatcha gonna do?
JAKE
I’m getting out of here, Nat. As of today, I’m out of here.
NATASHA
Out of here? You can’t get out of here, Jake. You live here, you’re
stuck here. You laaaahve it.
JAKE
I don’t love it.
NATASHA
Why the monologue, then? People don’t soliloquise and rhapsodise about
that which they hate.
JAKE
Tell that to Hitler.
NATASHA
Well, there’s a fine line between love and hate.
JAKE
No? Really? I wondered who had nicked my “Big Book Of Cliches”...
NATASHA
Are you saying you want me to clean this room up?
JAKE
What? No. Yes. We should all do it.
NATASHA
But you’re getting out of here.
JAKE
But I can’t leave it in this state!
NATASHA
Where are your pots?
He points to the clean dishes on the draining board.
NATASHA
You see? You always clean up after yourself. Nowadays...
JAKE
I’ve changed. Why can’t everyone else?
NATASHA
Because not everyone wants to be anally retentive.
JAKE
I am not anal! I just wash up! It’s not the same fucking thing at all!
NATASHA
Whatever. Seems like it. Or it’s symptomatic of it, at least.
JAKE
It’s symptomatic of wanting to live a better life than this.
NATASHA
It’s symptomatic of something, anyway, and symptoms only mean a disease,
so whatcha gonna do?
JAKE
Clear my cupboards. Clear my shelf in the ‘fridge. Clear my room. Book
a taxi. Fuck off.
NATASHA
Fine. Fuck off, then. Fuck off and die.
JAKE
With pleasure.
JAKE pulls open the doors of the cupboard under the sink. BRIDGET, a
crusty in her late twenties replete with multi-coloured dreadlocks and
a googolplex of piercings, drops out.
JAKE
Fucking shit, Bridget! Where’s all my stuff?
NATASHA
Bridget? Are you okay?
BRIDGET
I’m fine, thanks, Tash.
JAKE
I was getting round to asking that.
BRIDGET
Never said you weren’t, Jakey. Not the point. I just preferred her
question.
JAKE
But where is my stuff?
BRIDGET
Munchies.
JAKE
What, even the rubber gloves?
NATASHA stifles a giggle.
JAKE
What?!
NATASHA
Nothing. Rubber gloves? Anal? Toi? Noooo.
BRIDGET
Rubber gloves? Still in there. Hey, Natasha, anything to drink? Been
in there two days.
NATASHA
Try the ‘fridge.
JAKE
Careful, Hector might be in there.
BRIDGET
Fuck, Hector! Where is he? Haven’t seen him for days!
NATASHA
You haven’t seen anyone for days, Bridget. But you’re right, he’s definitely
missing.
BRIDGET goes over to the ‘fridge and pulls out a bottle of Sunny Delight.
JAKE
How can you have missed him? Did you not hear the wailing banshee in
his room? “Ohhhhh, HECTOR! OHHHH! THERE!!!!”. Must’ve been in there somewhere.
NATASHA
Missed that.
JAKE
Well, you were probably lying under all that shit. Comfy, was it?
NATASHA
It’s not about comfort.
JAKE
It never is in this house.
BRIDGET
What’s up with you this... afternoon?
JAKE
Nothing more than usual. I’m moving out.
BRIDGET
Yeah, right, and I’m moving in.
JAKE
What?
BRIDGET
Er, nothing. I do live here. Really.
JAKE
You don’t, do you? When did you last pay rent?
BRIDGET
Chill the fuck out, man! I pay rent. Independently.
JAKE
You lying cow! You’ve never paid a bloody penny!
NATASHA
Being fair, Jake, she does sleep under the sink.
JAKE
Not all the time!
BRIDGET
Er...
JAKE
What, all the time? Shit, no wonder my stuff was always all over the
floor every morning.
NATASHA
Afternoon.
JAKE
I’m a changed man, Natasha. No more getting up in the afternoon. I’ve
even got an alarm clock.
NATASHA
“GOTHAM CITY IS IN TROUBLE! CALL FOR BATMAN!” Yeah, I heard it. At
eleven o’clock this morning.
JAKE
It’s a start. I’ve had a shave, had a haircut, dressed smart. Look
at me.
BRIDGET and NATASHA look at him. BRIDGET turns away, sighing.
JAKE
I’m no longer scum.
NATASHA
You never were. We’re not scum. Despite what you say, the amount of
bile you reserve for us and our lifestyle. We’re just living differently.
JAKE
Joke! You’re living badly. You’re living a dark ages lifestyle in post-modern
times! What happened to modern life?
BRIDGET
Modern life sucks.
JAKE
Eloquently put. But you can’t have your cake and eat it. You can’t
live like a peasant in a terraced house with central heating! It doesn’t
make sense. If we’re going to inflict this lifestyle on ourselves, why
don’t we live in a fucking mud hut somewhere?
NATASHA
Ahh, I would if I could.
JAKE
Yeah, well, count me out. As of today, count me out of here.
BRIDGET
Fair enough.
JAKE
What?
BRIDGET
Fair enough. You don’t want to be here. Go. Simple as that.
NATASHA
Oh, come on, Bridge, that’s not what he wants at all.
BRIDGET
Sounds like it. What he’s saying, sounds like it.
JAKE
It is what I’m saying.
NATASHA
Bollocks.
JAKE
Care to elaborate? Or can we take it that your argument is based entirely
on a single coarse term for the testicles?
NATASHA
Anal!
JAKE
What’s anal about that?
NATASHA
Well, poncey, at least.
JAKE
You’re beginning to disturb me. Anyway, come on. What’s your argument?
What do I really want?
NATASHA
More than anything in the world?
JAKE
No. Just apropos of this place. Of you lot.
BRIDGET
Us lot?
JAKE
Us.
NATASHA
You want us to change our ways. That’s what you want. You don’t want
to have to move, you want us to transport you somewhere nice.
BRIDGET
Don’t follow.
JAKE
No, me neither. Are you saying I want you to carry me around?
NATASHA
Don’t be stupid. But if you moved out, you’d just be hunting for somewhere
like this, but nice. “Nice” on your terms, anyway. Clean. Quiet. With interesting,
provocative company. Like us. Only with a washing machine.
BRIDGET
And tumble drier.
NATASHA
No, no. It’d have to be a washing line, so the clothes dried in the
cool, clean fucking mountain air. Basically, Jake, what you want is for
this place to become that other place. You want us to wash all our pots
as soon as we use them. You want us to get haircuts, wash every day. Tidy
up. Sleep in beds. With regular, quiet sexual partners. Actually, preferably
platonic partners, because you can’t stand hearing, or thinking about hearing,
or thinking about thinking about hearing sex. You want us to read Kafka
- I mean, in public, as opposed to in bed or on the bog. You want me to
stop using the word bog, and you want Bridget to stop eating nothing but
the lentils which cause her constant farting.
JAKE
A balanced diet is important.
BRIDGET
The lives of animals are important.
NATASHA
Well, that’s another issue, another time. So. That’s whatcha want,
am I right?
JAKE
Yes. You’re right.
NATASHA
So, whatcha gonna do?
SCENE 2.
The kitchen has had some progress made on it. The mound of rubbish
is gone. BRIDGET, JAKE and NATASHA sit around the table drinking coffee.
NATASHA
Can’t believe it.
BRIDGET
The doctors say he’ll be lucky to make it through to the other side
of this one.
JAKE
Shit.
BRIDGET
Personally, I think he’d be unlucky if he made it to the other side
of it, ‘cause he’d just be at the top of another drop.
JAKE
God. I feel like shit.
BRIDGET
Not your fault, Jake. It’s not anybody’s fault.
NATASHA
Yeah, but... Can’t help but feel a bit responsible.
BRIDGET
Yeah, well, I suppose, in many ways, it’s everybody’s fault.
NATASHA
Yeah. Maybe if..
BRIDGET
Maybe if something was done. Maybe we should have taken the knives
out of the sink. The sharp ones anyway. Changed the water from that time
Christoph the weird junkie slit his wrists into the sink, yeah? It’s all
of our fault. We should change our ways.
NATASHA
I don’t know that we’re doing anything wrong.
BRIDGET
No. We’re definitely doing something wrong around here, it’s all fucked
up, to be living like this.
NATASHA
To some.
JAKE
To all.
NATASHA
Disagree. We’re not doing anything wrong. Just living how we want to
live.
BRIDGET
This is how you want to live?
NATASHA
Why not? Someone has to.
BRIDGET
And that’s a view shared? Jesus, Natasha, we can’t all live like filth
because you feel like it. And now Hector’s fucking dying because of your
lifestyle choice?
NATASHA
It’s not just my choice. We all agreed to live like this, you know
we did.
JAKE
I didn’t.
NATASHA
Thank you for that, Jake. I see you’ve had a go at the kitchen.
JAKE
Well, having a go at you just wasn’t working, was it?
BRIDGET
Oh, for God’s sake...
NATASHA
Why do I feel like the enemy here?
JAKE
Welcome to my world.
NATASHA
Hey, weren’t you moving out?
JAKE
Yes, but lucky me, I stayed.
BRIDGET
Please, guys...
NATASHA
Well, if you need help packing...
JAKE
Oh, you know what? I can manage grown-up activities all by myself.
NATASHA
What, like sex?
BRIDGET
Oh, shut the fuck up, both of you! Grow up! Masturbation jokes? Please...!
NATASHA
Sorry, Bridge.
JAKE
Sorry.
BRIDGET
Apology not nearly graciously accepted.
JAKE
Sorry?
BRIDGET
For Christ’s sake, Jake! Is that all you can say?!
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