Litter (A play) Part 2

Afternoon

(Four students enter from up the alleyway; two males and two females. They are all labelled. Ist and Third are the males, 2:1 and 2:2 the females. Ist, 2:1 and 2:2 are all carrying books or files. Third has nothing. As 2:2 passes the bin she screams and leaps in the air)

2:1: What happened?

2:2: Something bit me, from behind that bin.

(They all rush out into the street)

Ist: What was it?

Third: Christ! - is it a mad dog?

(They all peer into the alley)

2:2: I have no idea. Why don’t you go investigate Columbo? I’m a victim. God I can’t put any weight on it.

2:1: Sit down and let’s have a look.

(She sits down on the kerbside while the others check out her leg)

Ist: Pull up your trouser.

(She does so revealing a nasty bite on the back of her calf)

2:1: You’re going to need a tetanus.

2:2: I can’t. I’ve got seminars to go to. I can’t afford to drop my grade.

Third (Sarcastically): You could lose that leg.

2:2 (Tearful): Without a 2:1 at least, I may as well live off the state. Do you know how much this is costing my dad?

2:1 begins to tear off the bottom of her trousers

2:2: Hey what’s going on?

2:1: We need to put some pressure on the wound.

(Rips it completely off and throws it into the road)

Third: With what?

Ist: There’s lots of tissue on the floor.

2:2: Fuck off! That’s used. Do you want to treat me or kill me? Even as we speak the putrid smell of this shit-hole is probably its way into my system through this gaping hole in my flesh. I’ll be dead in minutes.

Third: Not straight away.

2:2: How do you mean?

Third: If its rabies, there are certain stages you go through before you…you know, death.

2: 2: Stages?

Ist (Joining in with the joke): Of course.

2:2: You’re scaring me.

Ist: Normally there’s the sweats first.

Third: Right.

(2:2 mops her brow)

2:1: Then the giddiness.

2:2 feels dizzy

Third: Then worse of all – the convulsions and frothing of the mouth.

(He apes the symptoms himself. 2:2 realises she’s being mocked)

2:2: Fuck off! It really hurts. Can’t you stop it bleeding?

Ist: Yeah, let’s apply some practicality here, we’re students after all. What about some A4 paper. Here let me check my folder.

Third: And I thought I was the mug here. (Sits down and observes)

2:1: I’ll go through mine.

(Ist and 2:1 sit down in the road facing 2:2)

Ist: (Begins examining his folder) Nietzsche, Man and Superman…

Third: Let’s read it first.

Ist: It isn’t a comic idiot. (He continues looking) Freud’s interpretation of dreams, Jung, The Undiscovered Self – sorry I’m going to need these.

2:1: Pity the dog didn’t scar you psychologically – He might’ve been able to help you. (She examines her folder) Let’s see what’s in here; lesbian sub-text in Jane Austen.

Third: Better still, hand it over!

2:1: It’s not your usual ‘sticky-fingers’ material, okay? – it’s intellectual porn!

2:2: Here. (She gives her folder to 2:1) See what I’ve got.

Third: Pity I haven’t got mine, you could’ve had the lot.

2:1: This can’t be yours can it – atomic sub-particles, quantum mechanics, gravitational waves - you’re media studies aren’t you?

2:2: My boyfriend’s, I said I’d look after it for him. He’s playing badminton, selfish bastard, while I’m here bleeding to death. Can you believe it? Born 20 short years ago in beautiful Henley; brought up underneath the bowing branches of the willow-lined banks of the tranquil Thames, only to kick the bucket in this urban rat-hole.

2:1: Most student accommodation is in areas like this. It’s not like we’ll end up here is it?

Third: I might!

2:2: My dad offered to buy me a place, you know – not here – in the next district.

Third: Pricy isn’t it?

2:2: Exactly. Nice four-bedroom semi, one for me, the others rented out; income takes care of expenditure. Meanwhile the asset grows in value. Sell it on three years down the line for a nice cool profit. Lots of parents are doing it apparently.

Ist: Not here.

2:1: Where’s the profit?

2:2: No, dad, I said. No more rocking horses and gymkhana. There’s a real world out there. I should have stuck to pony shit.

Third: Think, though, we couldn’t party and make all the noise we want to if we were in an area like our parents. Half the bloody neighbourhood seem to be partying all day and night.

2:1: We’d be the weirdo’s round here if we just went home every night and studied. Work hard at ‘uni’, play hard at home – it’s not our tab is it.

Ist: She’s right. Take our flat. What was it like when we moved in? The radiators were freezing, the oven blew the first time we tried to cook anything and the wallpaper was the only thing holding the walls up.

Third: Yeah, there was rubbish under the furniture, inside the beds and up and down the stairs. The students before us weren’t bothered about how they left it. They’d finished.

2:1: And in another year we’ll be finished too.

Ist: But the crap will still look the same.

2:2: As long as they don’t find me here festering under a pile of kebab trays and pizza boxes.

Ist: This is a quality university, even a lesser degree will count for something.

2: 2: Won’t be good enough for my dad. He put in a lot of work to get me here.

Third: All parents say that. You’d think no-one else ever shovelled shit before but them.

2:2: No, you don’t understand – HE put in a lot of work so I could go here!

Ist: Oh…I get it.

2:1: E-mail him your assignments then.

2:2: I should’ve to start with; they’ll spot the difference.

2:1: (She pulls some papers out of 2:2’s folder) Wait, it’s all right. I’ve found yours. ‘The Shakespearean principle in Eastenders’

2:2: No fucking chance, I need that. Use my boyfriend's – its all garbage anyway.

2:1: Okay.

(2:1 dabs away at her wound discarding the used papers on the floor)

Third (Sarcastically): Is it working?

Ist: Not very well. I’ve got an idea! (He grabs the torn piece of trouser and together with 2:1 they supply a make shift bandage of A4 paper and denim. 2:2 passes out)
She’s out.

2:1: Well at least we won’t have to listen to her griping all the way back to campus.

Ist: We can drop her at the campus health centre. They’ll tidy up.

(2:1 and Ist help her up and they all go off stage left leaving their folders. Third picks them up and, smaning, throws them into the garden)

Third: The world’s their oyster; well at least the shell!

(Exits stage right)

(A young girl enters stage left with a pram. She has an MP3 player on and the headphones in her ears. As she progresses a man shouts after her off stage)

Poser: Dis! Oi, Dis!

(She carries on heedless until Poser enters after her stage left and catches up with her. He is drinking a can of beer)

Poser: Dis are you deaf? (He turns her around and sees the earphones) No fucking wonder!

Dis: Who you pulling wanker? You’ve prob’ly bruised me fucking shoulder.

Poser: What did I say? What was the last thing I told you before I left the house?

Dis: I ain’t yer fucking slave, Poser and I don’t want anything to do with that business.

Poser: That business puts food on the table yer silly cow.

Dis: It’s some shit business then – beans on toast for me dinner and a Farleys rusk for her.

Poser: What yer gonna eat without that package? He’ll drop it somewhere else. They’ll make the money and they’ll be the ones carving beef tomorrow.

Dis: It’s your own fault, deal somewhere else. Why infest my flat with it?

Poser: You gotta turn your eyes round on this one. This ain’t the Mickey Mouse shit that we use; this deal will keep us high for a long time.

Dis: Well, whoppee! It’s a long time since I was looking down into the gutter instead of out of it; even if it’s only the view from the kerbstone.

Poser: Little by little Dis; one step at a time.

Dis: I feel like a fucking tortoise climbing Jacob’s bleeding ladder.

Poser: It’s gotta be safe, and you know how careful a guy I am.

Dis: Careful, you? Where did I find the last special ‘packet’ that was gonna make our fortune: behind the fridge, underneath a loose floorboard or maybe buried in the bastard window box on the balcony, out there along with everything else that doesn’t bloom? On the floor, that’s where; on the floor where she’s crawling.

Poser: She’d never have got it open.

Dis: She’s a smart kid, Poser, she don’t get all her character from me.

Poser: So she got it from her old man, then? Maybe that’s how she got out of the play pen; chiselled through the bars did she?

Dis: He ain’t her dad, I’m almost certain.

Poser: Well he’d be no good as a babysitter anyway. Not for the next five years at least.

Dis: Anyone would be better than you, even a paedophile.

Poser: Hey I had a drink – I fell asleep. No need to compare me with an evil dirty pervert.

Dis: She’d do a better job babysitting you.

Poser: Look Dis, forget it now; we gotta think green on this one, especially if you want to get her outta here.

Dis: I’d like to see some green first.

Poser: You’ve had money – don’t deny it. (He throws his beer can away)

Dis: Getting it’s not the problem, its keeping hold of it. The last bundle you give me disappeared from me purse the next fucking day.

(Dis looks into the pram and begins to re-arrange the blankets cooing at the child)

Poser: I already told ya – its still yours…only…I gotta put it out to get more in.

Dis: On a three-legged horse heading for the abattoir?

Poser: I need a little social time girl; it’s an ‘ard world out there.

(Dis lights up a cigarette and flings the match to the floor)

Dis: Even harder on me lungs; see this: (She shows him the cigarette packet) two bleeding fags left. That’s gotta last me all night. We haven’t even got a drink in the house.

(Baby starts crying and Dis takes her out of the pram. The baby has a harness on. Dis rocks her in her arms whilst looking down at her with the cigarette hanging in her mouth)

Dis: Did the useless arsehole wake you up darling?

Poser: You want fags eh? ‘ere then. Takes a packet out of his pocket and flings it at her. It falls on the floor.

Dis: How d’ya expect me to pick ‘em up. I ain’t a fucking octopus.

Poser: Give me the brat then.

(Takes the child and hangs it on the lamppost bin by the harness)

Poser: There ya go, hands-free!

Dis: Free, evil more like it, you cruel sod. What sort of human being would leave a baby like that?

(Dis picks up the cigarettes and lights another one having at least three goods pulls on it before she goes to pick up the child. The baby screams just before she reaches her)

Dis: Shit! Look at that, you bastard, she’s cut.

Poser (Feeling around the bin): How the fuck could she be – there ain’t no sharp edges here.

Dis: You gonna pay for plasters now?

Poser: Stick one of yer rags on it.

Dis (Looking up at the sky): Fairy Godmother, whatever happened to my glass slipper?

Poser: Christ Dis, is that a funny fag in your hand or are you so strung out that even plain old nicotine is doing it for you now?

Pause

Dis: I was pretty once, you know – too pretty, too soon; the hottest 14 year old in school. (Twists a curl in her hair) I was a honey blonde then with electric green eyes and legs like an open pair of elegant nail scissors. I was virgin forest. Do you know what’s it like to have practically every boy creaming his pants when you talk to them? Course you don’t. You have to make do with what’s left - deforestation. What was it she used to say to me? “Make the most of yourself love, advertise; mascara and lipstick, that’s what’ll win Prince Charming’s heart”. (She turns with disdain toward poser speaking with resignation) Shall we go back to the lily pad now my love?

Poser (Knocks the cigarette out of her hand): Look Dis, you’ll get your money back, tomorrow. I gotta re-invest – it’s what keeps nappies on her arse.

Dis (Smelling the child’s bottom): Phew! It had better do ‘cause this one’s done and I ain’t got too many left.

(Dis places the baby on the pavement to change her)

Poser: You ain’t gonna change her here are ya?

Dis: Why not, poor little mite. How would you like it, being forced to walk about in your own shite? On second thoughts it’s what you do best, isn’t it?

Poser: You got no class Dis. You owe me. I took you and her in – and she ain’t mine.

Dis: (Continuing to change the child) Lying bastard, you took me in for me benefits that’s all – and other things.

Poser: Like…

Dis: You don’t have to pay for it anymore, do you?

(Pause)

(Poser looks guilty)

Dis: You fucking prick, you two-timing dirty prick!

Poser: Well that’s suits us fine doesn’t it? What good’s a whore without a prick?

Dis: I was better off whoring. I had more respect and more money. (She finishes changing the nappy)

Poser: Respect – you? That’s your respect there. He points toward the child.

Dis: Bastard! (Dis charges at him with the soiled nappy and pushes it in his face. Poser slaps her away and the nappy falls to the ground. He gets a grip on her waist lifting her up bodily)

Poser: What you need is a lesson cunt.

Dis (Struggling): I already know how to lie and cheat.

Poser: Then we can teach you something else then.

(Carries her off stage left)

(There is another tremendous roar and some more buildings collapse, again being replaced by similar litter buildings. The only two buildings unchanged are the church spire and the chimney which seems to belch even more smoke)

(The baby has been left on stage. Earth enters very slowly from the alleyway. He is now wearing a thick, dark-green polo-neck jumper and heavy black-coloured trousers. He is wearing black shoes on his feet. He picks up Dis’s cigarette and begins to draw on it and then notices the child whimpering on the floor. He begins to cough and retch violently, so much so that he brings up phlegm from his throat and spits it into the garden of the house. He looks over the child and puts the cigarette in its mouth and walks off stage right)

(There is a rattle from the bin on the lamppost and then the one in the alleyway and in turn is answered by the bin in the street. The latter stops rattling and then begins to shift slowly toward the baby. It waddles across to the child and then around it like an animal inspecting something it doesn’t understand. Finally it leans over the child as if to comfort it but it quickly appears that it is in fact sniffing it. Suddenly it swallows up the child. It returns to its place by the business premises)

(Early evening)

(The sun is positioned in the west, stage right but doesn’t set, leaving the sky still visible. The lamppost begins to light and a light is also shining from the street at the end of the alley. The alley itself should remain dim but light enough to see whatever occurs in there)

(The candle lights glow again and the approaching sound of an engine can be heard. The alley bin begins to move toward the far end, just before a four by four vehicle, containing a family of four, pulls up to the end of the alleyway. There is a piece of gherkin stuck to the driver’s door. The driver, the father, begins collecting fast food rubbish from his wife, seating in the passenger side and their two children, a boy and girl, seated in the rear. As he is about to discard the garbage he notices the gherkin. We see him gesturing to his wife, who passes him a cloth. He peels the gherkin off in disgust wiping down the stain with the cloth. The alley bin suddenly jumps onto the buckboard and begins to attack the driver who shrieks and drives off in panic, with the bin in tow. Off-stage the rest of the family can also be heard screaming followed swiftly by a screech and a smash. After a few moments a tyre rolls into the alleyway from the far street. The bin returns to the alleyway spotting the tyre. It leans over it as if it was sniffing it, and then waddles away as if it has rejected the item as food returning to its original position)

(A burglar enters stage right and goes into the front garden of the house. He breaks one of the lower windows and enters. A few moments later another burglar enters stage left carrying a crowbar. He jimmies his way into the business premises. Torch- lights can be seen in both premises. An upper window in the house is opened, and almost immediately clothes, bed linen, jewellery, and other assorted items are ejected)

(Then the right window of the business shatters as computer equipment etc is slung through it. The house in turn replies now with small pieces of furniture, a chair, a small table thrust out. Then from the business a cash register comes hurtling out emptying its contents all over the stage. The torch-lights go out. The burglars do not reappear)

(Enter Weave, Dodge and Shimmy. They’re carrying fast food bags and drinks. They sit down on the kerbside and begin to eat and drink. Weave opens up his burger and pulls out the gherkin)

Weave: Anybody want me gherkin?

Dodge: Not me. (Already eating hers) I stuck mine on one of them four be fours.

Shimmy: Nice one – they’re dangerin’ the planet.

Weave: You want it Shimmy?

Shimmy: Don’t like ‘em neifer. Save it for anafer one of ‘em gas gluzzles, or whatefer yer call ‘em.

Weave: Fuck that. (Slings it away)

Dodge: Eargh! Me fries are cold!

Shimmy: Mine are okay.

Weave: And mine, ‘ave some.

Dodge: Cheers. (She throws hers away)

Shimmy: Going ‘ome tonight?

Dodge: Suppose.

Shimmy: Stay at mine if you want.

Dodge: Dunno.

Weave. Ain’t your mam text you back yet?

Dodge: I’ll check. (Takes out her mobile and drops her drink) Fuckin’ hell, I wanted that shake.

Weave: Have my coke.

Dodge: Na, don’t mix wiff strawberry; save it for the vodka. (She checks her messages) Noffing.

Shimmy: Stay at mine then.

Dodge: What about your dad?

Weave: Yeah he can be a bit scary you know, ‘specially…(Makes a drinking gesture) Mind you he don’t frighten me.

Shimmy: He prob’ly won’t touch me, if you’re there.

Weave: I’ll take you both back - make sure you’re okay.

Dodge: A’right – but let’s have some dutch, get that vodka out.

Shimmy: Hey! I wanna try sommit. (She is leaning over the strawberry milkshake spillage. She tips some of her chocolate shake into the mix and begins to draw with her finger)

Weave: What’s it supposed to be?

Shimmy: Does it matter?

Weave: My turn. (He goes over to the packet of cold fries and takes them back to the spillage. He takes one out and uses it to draw like a brush. He then places two more ‘artistically’ in the ‘drawing’) That’s more like it. The one in the middle – that’s you Dodge.

Dodge: If you ‘aven’t noticed I ain’t a blonde. If you want to use fries for me ‘air, dip ‘em in Shimmy’s chocolate first, eh?

(A racket comes from the alleyway and a figure is seen staggering into it from the street beyond and toward the teenagers. He stops halfway down and urinates against the bin. The bin rattles as he is shaking himself off. Shimmy peers into the alley from the corner by the house)

Shimmy: Fuck it. It’s my dad, and ‘e looks well pissed.

(She freezes and puts down her shake on the garden wall. Weave assumes a position behind Dodge)

Dodge: Shimmy, get over here wiff us. (She looks behind her contemptuously at Weave as Shimmy backs off and joins the others. Her father emerges from the alleyway drunk and staggering. His right trouser leg is torn and he is bleeding but doesn’t feel it. He recognizes Shimmy)

Father: Shimmy babeee!

Shimmy: Dad.

Father: Over here, c’mon, give daddy a nice kiss.

Shimmy: Me mates dad, they’re here.

Father: So what! Get here! (Menacingly)

(Shimmy goes to him tentatively)

Shimmy: But you’re cut. Did you fall?

Father (Looks down at his leg): Can’t remember. Maybe a fight, or was that last night?

Shimmy: Go home and sleep. I’ll dress it then. You won’t feel a thing.

Father: Don’t feel anything now. C’mere.

(He grabs her when she’s close enough and embraces her in a lover’s fashion. Shimmy squirms but is not strong enough to counter him. Dodge and Weave look on uncomfortably)

Dodge: That’s enough now – put ‘er down.

(She goes over to intervene despite Weave trying to pull her back)

Father: Hello sweet’art. Shimmy how come you never brought yer mate home wiff yer before?

(He lets Shimmy go with one hand and makes a grab for Dodge with the other. He has them both caught. Weave tries to reason with him and makes an approach)

Weave: C’mon mate eh, leave ‘em alone. I don’t wanna hurt you ‘cause I know you’ve had a drink and your leg’s…

(Shimmy’s father kicks Weave in the genitals. Weave goes down and vomits into the gutter)

Shimmy: Dad, you bastard.

Dodge: You fucking coward.

Father: What’s wrong mate, had too much drink ‘ave ya?
(He starts laughing and then stops abruptly noticing something in Weave’s pocket. He lets Dodge go)

Father: What you got there my san?
(He leans over and rips out Weave’s vodka bottle from his outer pocket) This’ll do nicely.

Weave (Still gagging): That’s mine.

Dodge: C’mon mate you’ve ‘ad yours, we need some fun too.

Father: You lot ain’t even 18. I’m doing a social service here.

(Opens up the bottle and begins to drink it)

Father: Come on love, bedtime!

(He drags Shimmy away stage left despite Dodge’s attention, finishing the vodka and then throwing the bottle through the unbroken office window. The office sign comes loose at one end and swings down across the shattered frame)

(Dodge begins to sob uncontrollably and walks back to the lamppost. Weave crawls into the alleyway to be sick again. She leans against the small bin and then shrieks)

Dodge: Jesus! - Must be a fucking rat in there or something. It’s bit me bastarin’ arm!

(She pulls up her sleeve to reveal the bite)

(Another tremendous roar is heard, and the chimney is now funnelling out black smoke. All three bins rattle for a few moments. Dodge backs away from the lamppost and Weave goes into the alley to vomit in the bin there. As he leans in, it swallows him up. He gives out a stifled moan and Dodge goes toward the alley to see what’s wrong)

Dodge: Weave, Weave, where the hell are you? What the fuck is going on?

(Frightened she walks back toward the lamppost. The lights dim at that end of the alley. The front stage, by this time, should be covered in assorted litter and glass from the previous scenes so that it resembles a war zone. If the director is using an odour it should be uncomfortably smelly by now. Dodge surveys the area as if some connection between her life and the devastation she sees has been realised. She moves toward Shimmy’s milkshake painting and looks into it for some moments. Finally she picks up the packet of cold French-fries and Shimmy’s shake, and kneels down beside the ‘picture’ She puts the shake down beside her and takes out a couple of fries from the packet, dipping them in the shake and placing them in the picture)

Dodge: I didn’t need to do that.

(She walks over to the large street bin and throws the packet in; in an instant the bin coughs the packet back out. She looks puzzled but repeats her action. The bin does the same thing. Investigating this phenomenon she leans into the bin. It swallows her whole)

(There is a huge roar and now the church spire collapses and is replaced by a litter copy, leaving the entire skyline covered in litter buildings. The chimney smoke finally obliterates the sun and sky, bringing in a premature night-fall and darkening the stage) Earth enters from the alleyway wearing a huge brown fur coat and a heavy brown fur hat and big brown fur boots. He is struggling to walk and eventually collapses beneath the lamppost. Smoke appears from within the coat almost enveloping him completely in a thick fog. He starts to cough but not as violently as before, almost as if he hasn’t the strength to do so. The lamppost begins to glow illuminating the bins. The small bin begins to rattle, followed a few moments later by the alley bin and then finally the street bin. The rattling increases in volume until it is almost deafening. As the curtain drops slowly the light in the lamppost begins to flicker. The rattling should reach a crescendo after the curtain falls and should suddenly stop. We hear Earth cough weakly once more and then silence. If the odour is being used it should be producing an almost repellent stench at this stage)

End