New play!!!!!!!!!!
Here is my latest short piece. Remember, I control all production rights. Post here if you want use it.
Just Another Day of Being White Trash
Interior of a mobile home. Fake wood paneling, a saggy sofa under crank-open windows, ashtrays of various containers stuffed with butts, unmatched lamps and shades. There is, however, a decent t.v. with a cable attached to it. Sticking out from under the sofa is an alligator tail. The tail occasionally moves-but no more than twice during the scene. Sitting on the sofa is CLETE, in an a-shirt, ratty jeans, and cowboy boots as his wardrobe. CLETE moves and bottles tumble at his feet.
CLETE
Stacie-
(Looks at bottles.)
Shit.
STACIE
I'm pissing.
CLETE
Christ. We got any paper towel?
STACIE
You spill beer?
CLETE
Does it matter what I spilt? Do we have any towels?
STACIE
Got some toilet paper down here.
CLETE
Well- bring a roll up with ya when ya come back.
(Rather than clean it up, CLETE shakes out another smoke and lights it. STACIE enters. She is ridiculously thin, a half shirt that reads Party Grrrlll in seventies-style font, and Daisy Dukes. She is barefoot.)
STACIE
Here ya go, your majesty.
(CLETE takes the roll and rops it at his foot, rollnig it with the sole of his boot in the small puddle.)
Couldn't you rip off what you need? That's our last role and you soaked it through.
CLETE
It's just beer. You've been pissing it out all day.
STACIE
Opened the flood gates.
(She plops down next to CLETE.)
What the fuck's wrong with cable?
CLETE
That's what I was gonna ask ya when I spilt my beers.
STACIE
Did you juggle the cable?
CLETE
Yeah- I tried.
STACIE looks at him taking a long drag. She knows he didn't. STACIE hoists herself up and barely touches the cable when CLETE'S eyes get wide.
CLETE
You got the touch, baby.
STACIE
All ya had to do was reach around behind it.
CLETE
Oh- behind it, huh? I tried slapping the t.v.
STACIE
I'm getting another beer- you want one?
CLETE
Hell yeah.
(STACIE leans over the arm of the couch on her side and opens a plastic cooler. CLETE looks at her mostly exposed behind.)
How about a little of that, too?
STACIE
Little of what?
(CLETE reaches over and grabs her exposed cheek. STACIE swings a beer around narrowly missing his head.)
CLETE
What the fuck is that about?
(STACIE opens the bottle she swung. It foams over her hand and she licks her fingers.)
STACIE
Aunt Millie stopped by today.
CLETE
Once a month whether you want her to or not.
STACIE
Yeah- well, she was a little late in getting here this time.
CLETE
You mean I was almost a daddy again?
STACIE
Yeah- and this time with me.
CLETE
Would that be so bad- you and me being parents?
STACIE
Yeah- after all we live like the First family. Toss me a smoke.
(CLETE shakes out two cigarettes, puts them in his mouth, lights them with his current smoke, and then passes one to STACIE. He snuffs out his old one and drops it in an empty beer bottle.)
We watchin' fishing again?
CLETE
It's all that was on.
STACIE
It's all that was on when you turned on the t.v.
CLETE
I couldn't find the remote.
STACIE
Try your ass.
CLETE
What are you- sick? Why would I shove the remote up my ass?
STACIE
I meant you might be sitting on it, dickwad.
(CLETE grabs her violently by the wrist.)
CLETE
Don't you ever call me that, bitch, or I'll-
STACIE
You'll what- smack me with a beer bottle? Feed me to Critter?
CLETE
If it didn't take a gator so long to eat ya, I might.
STACIE
What's the big deal about dickwad? I call you moterhfucker you barely lift an eyebrow- but dickwad-
CLETE
My dad called me dickwad- every day of my life, so I guess it's a little personal.
(CLETE looks at the t.v. STACIE turns away from CLETE and sees CRITTER'S tale move.)
STACIE
You think Critter is okay? He ain't moved all day.
CLETE
Gators are like that when they's digestin'.
STACIE
What did you feed him?
CLETE
I didn't feed him. I tied him up last night outside.
STACIE
Aw, Christ.
(She takes a pull from her beer.)
Mrs. Macks cames by this morning asking if I'd seen Achey-Breaking.
CLETE
Her little Taco Bell dog?
STACIE
Yeah. You don't supposed Critter got him, do ya?
CLETE
(Shrugs.)
He mighta.
(Finshes he current cigarette. Grabs another and lights it.)
Them Taco Bell dogs are something.
STACIE
Clete- I told ya- they don't really know how to say Chalupa.
CLETE
(Trying to imitate the commercial dog.)
Bite my chalupa, baby. You know you want to bite my chalupa, don'tcha, Stacie?
STACIE
That's just gross.
(Finishes her beer.)
CLETE
Come on, Stacie. Suck my chalupa.
STACIE
Suck it? Only thing I'm suckin' on is another beer. Which we're almost out of. Better go get some.
CLETE
I ain't goin. I lost my license, remember?
STACIE
You can walk down to the store, Clete.
CLETE
What if I run into Mrs. Macks and she asks me about Achey-Breaky?
STACIE
Did Critter eat her?
CLETE
Well, yeah- it's why he's so sleepy.
STACIE
Clete- you mean to tell me that Critter murdered little Achey-Breaky and you just sat here?
CLETE
Well, I sure as hell ain't no Crocodile Dundee. I ain't stickin' my hand in Critter's mouth.
STACIE
Okay- look, when you first brought Critter home from the swamp, he was cute. But now that eating mice don't fill him up enough, he's getting scarey and dangerous.
CLETE
Well what do you want me to do with him, take him and leave him in a swamp?
STACIE
Well, um- yeah.
CLETE
I told you I ain't touching him.
STACIE
Fine- you walk down and get beer and I'll drive him to the swamp.
CLETE
The fuck you are.
STACIE
Clete- Critter's getting too big to keep in the double wide. Sides, what if he goes after one of your kids?
CLETE
Kids know better and they're too big.
STACIE
Now they are. Look, I want Critter out of here and since you and your Chalupa can barely haul yourselves up to do anything, I'll put a belt around Critter's chops and I'll take him out to the swamp.
CLETE
Aw, come on, Stacie. He's almost nearly house broken.
STACIE
No. Now you got your boots on, so walk on down to the store and get another case.
CLETE
Me and that gator ain't goin' anywhere.
STACIE
It's my double wide!
STACIE smashes a bottle over CLETE's head. He raises a hand to slap her and she grabs it, biting his fingers. CLETE pushes her backwards. STACIE tumbles to the floor and crawls herself up the far wall.
CLETE
You bitch!
(CLETE pulls CRITTER out from under the sofa and whips the gator around by the tail, flinging it at STACIE. The gator strikes STACIE in the back, knocking her forward. As she falls, she brings the t.v. down on top of CRITTER. There are sparks and the lamps flicker. After a moment, the sparking stops and the lights come back up.)
Oh my god- what have I done?
STACIE
You sonofabitch- you tried to kill me.
CLETE
I killed Critter.
STACIE
You could've broken my back!
CLETE
Screw your back- Critter is dead!
STACIE
I'm fine- thanks.
(She stretches and bends her back. She looks down at the limp CRITTER and nudges it with her toes.)
Yep. Critter's dead.
CLETE
What am I gonna do now?
STACIE
(Looks out the window.)
It's almost dark. Pick up a bag of charcoal when you go get the beer.
CLETE
You want to barbecue Critter?
STACIE
I'm sure it's what he would've wanted. And if you run into Mrs. Mack- don't say a thing.
CLETE
About Achey-Breaky?
STACIE
No, dumbshit, about Critter. She finds out we're barbecuing, she's gonna want a plate herself. This ain't gonna be no neighborhood potluck.
CLETE looks at CRITTER and then heads out. STACIE crosses to the cooler and gets a beer. Then, from her purse, she pulls out her smokes and lights up. After a long inhale and a slow exhale, she pulls out a large hunting knife.
STACIE
It's times like this I'm glad my daddy took me poaching.
(She grabs CRITTER by the tail and hauls him off stage, flipping the knife in front of her, the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.)
Just Another Day of Being White Trash
Interior of a mobile home. Fake wood paneling, a saggy sofa under crank-open windows, ashtrays of various containers stuffed with butts, unmatched lamps and shades. There is, however, a decent t.v. with a cable attached to it. Sticking out from under the sofa is an alligator tail. The tail occasionally moves-but no more than twice during the scene. Sitting on the sofa is CLETE, in an a-shirt, ratty jeans, and cowboy boots as his wardrobe. CLETE moves and bottles tumble at his feet.
CLETE
Stacie-
(Looks at bottles.)
Shit.
STACIE
I'm pissing.
CLETE
Christ. We got any paper towel?
STACIE
You spill beer?
CLETE
Does it matter what I spilt? Do we have any towels?
STACIE
Got some toilet paper down here.
CLETE
Well- bring a roll up with ya when ya come back.
(Rather than clean it up, CLETE shakes out another smoke and lights it. STACIE enters. She is ridiculously thin, a half shirt that reads Party Grrrlll in seventies-style font, and Daisy Dukes. She is barefoot.)
STACIE
Here ya go, your majesty.
(CLETE takes the roll and rops it at his foot, rollnig it with the sole of his boot in the small puddle.)
Couldn't you rip off what you need? That's our last role and you soaked it through.
CLETE
It's just beer. You've been pissing it out all day.
STACIE
Opened the flood gates.
(She plops down next to CLETE.)
What the fuck's wrong with cable?
CLETE
That's what I was gonna ask ya when I spilt my beers.
STACIE
Did you juggle the cable?
CLETE
Yeah- I tried.
STACIE looks at him taking a long drag. She knows he didn't. STACIE hoists herself up and barely touches the cable when CLETE'S eyes get wide.
CLETE
You got the touch, baby.
STACIE
All ya had to do was reach around behind it.
CLETE
Oh- behind it, huh? I tried slapping the t.v.
STACIE
I'm getting another beer- you want one?
CLETE
Hell yeah.
(STACIE leans over the arm of the couch on her side and opens a plastic cooler. CLETE looks at her mostly exposed behind.)
How about a little of that, too?
STACIE
Little of what?
(CLETE reaches over and grabs her exposed cheek. STACIE swings a beer around narrowly missing his head.)
CLETE
What the fuck is that about?
(STACIE opens the bottle she swung. It foams over her hand and she licks her fingers.)
STACIE
Aunt Millie stopped by today.
CLETE
Once a month whether you want her to or not.
STACIE
Yeah- well, she was a little late in getting here this time.
CLETE
You mean I was almost a daddy again?
STACIE
Yeah- and this time with me.
CLETE
Would that be so bad- you and me being parents?
STACIE
Yeah- after all we live like the First family. Toss me a smoke.
(CLETE shakes out two cigarettes, puts them in his mouth, lights them with his current smoke, and then passes one to STACIE. He snuffs out his old one and drops it in an empty beer bottle.)
We watchin' fishing again?
CLETE
It's all that was on.
STACIE
It's all that was on when you turned on the t.v.
CLETE
I couldn't find the remote.
STACIE
Try your ass.
CLETE
What are you- sick? Why would I shove the remote up my ass?
STACIE
I meant you might be sitting on it, dickwad.
(CLETE grabs her violently by the wrist.)
CLETE
Don't you ever call me that, bitch, or I'll-
STACIE
You'll what- smack me with a beer bottle? Feed me to Critter?
CLETE
If it didn't take a gator so long to eat ya, I might.
STACIE
What's the big deal about dickwad? I call you moterhfucker you barely lift an eyebrow- but dickwad-
CLETE
My dad called me dickwad- every day of my life, so I guess it's a little personal.
(CLETE looks at the t.v. STACIE turns away from CLETE and sees CRITTER'S tale move.)
STACIE
You think Critter is okay? He ain't moved all day.
CLETE
Gators are like that when they's digestin'.
STACIE
What did you feed him?
CLETE
I didn't feed him. I tied him up last night outside.
STACIE
Aw, Christ.
(She takes a pull from her beer.)
Mrs. Macks cames by this morning asking if I'd seen Achey-Breaking.
CLETE
Her little Taco Bell dog?
STACIE
Yeah. You don't supposed Critter got him, do ya?
CLETE
(Shrugs.)
He mighta.
(Finshes he current cigarette. Grabs another and lights it.)
Them Taco Bell dogs are something.
STACIE
Clete- I told ya- they don't really know how to say Chalupa.
CLETE
(Trying to imitate the commercial dog.)
Bite my chalupa, baby. You know you want to bite my chalupa, don'tcha, Stacie?
STACIE
That's just gross.
(Finishes her beer.)
CLETE
Come on, Stacie. Suck my chalupa.
STACIE
Suck it? Only thing I'm suckin' on is another beer. Which we're almost out of. Better go get some.
CLETE
I ain't goin. I lost my license, remember?
STACIE
You can walk down to the store, Clete.
CLETE
What if I run into Mrs. Macks and she asks me about Achey-Breaky?
STACIE
Did Critter eat her?
CLETE
Well, yeah- it's why he's so sleepy.
STACIE
Clete- you mean to tell me that Critter murdered little Achey-Breaky and you just sat here?
CLETE
Well, I sure as hell ain't no Crocodile Dundee. I ain't stickin' my hand in Critter's mouth.
STACIE
Okay- look, when you first brought Critter home from the swamp, he was cute. But now that eating mice don't fill him up enough, he's getting scarey and dangerous.
CLETE
Well what do you want me to do with him, take him and leave him in a swamp?
STACIE
Well, um- yeah.
CLETE
I told you I ain't touching him.
STACIE
Fine- you walk down and get beer and I'll drive him to the swamp.
CLETE
The fuck you are.
STACIE
Clete- Critter's getting too big to keep in the double wide. Sides, what if he goes after one of your kids?
CLETE
Kids know better and they're too big.
STACIE
Now they are. Look, I want Critter out of here and since you and your Chalupa can barely haul yourselves up to do anything, I'll put a belt around Critter's chops and I'll take him out to the swamp.
CLETE
Aw, come on, Stacie. He's almost nearly house broken.
STACIE
No. Now you got your boots on, so walk on down to the store and get another case.
CLETE
Me and that gator ain't goin' anywhere.
STACIE
It's my double wide!
STACIE smashes a bottle over CLETE's head. He raises a hand to slap her and she grabs it, biting his fingers. CLETE pushes her backwards. STACIE tumbles to the floor and crawls herself up the far wall.
CLETE
You bitch!
(CLETE pulls CRITTER out from under the sofa and whips the gator around by the tail, flinging it at STACIE. The gator strikes STACIE in the back, knocking her forward. As she falls, she brings the t.v. down on top of CRITTER. There are sparks and the lamps flicker. After a moment, the sparking stops and the lights come back up.)
Oh my god- what have I done?
STACIE
You sonofabitch- you tried to kill me.
CLETE
I killed Critter.
STACIE
You could've broken my back!
CLETE
Screw your back- Critter is dead!
STACIE
I'm fine- thanks.
(She stretches and bends her back. She looks down at the limp CRITTER and nudges it with her toes.)
Yep. Critter's dead.
CLETE
What am I gonna do now?
STACIE
(Looks out the window.)
It's almost dark. Pick up a bag of charcoal when you go get the beer.
CLETE
You want to barbecue Critter?
STACIE
I'm sure it's what he would've wanted. And if you run into Mrs. Mack- don't say a thing.
CLETE
About Achey-Breaky?
STACIE
No, dumbshit, about Critter. She finds out we're barbecuing, she's gonna want a plate herself. This ain't gonna be no neighborhood potluck.
CLETE looks at CRITTER and then heads out. STACIE crosses to the cooler and gets a beer. Then, from her purse, she pulls out her smokes and lights up. After a long inhale and a slow exhale, she pulls out a large hunting knife.
STACIE
It's times like this I'm glad my daddy took me poaching.
(She grabs CRITTER by the tail and hauls him off stage, flipping the knife in front of her, the cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.)