A.V.W.D. - Herb Skew (100 best novels of all time txt) š
- Author: Herb Skew
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Cranston: (crying.) DONāT YOU DARE PISS IN THE TEAPOT! DONāT! DONāT! DONāT! You owe me, Snoo! I WANT A TEAPOT AND I WANT MY FRIENDS BACK! I donāt believe this: I knew this would happen, they like you , and hate me. And Iām not fucked. Is that the way to survive in this society, by being fucked? Tell me, you puppet! (Smacks Rupio weakly.) Why did you try to fuck me! Donāt pretend you didnāt! You saw, didnāt you, Kara! (Kara is locked in a stunned silence.) I know youāre not fucked.
Snoo: I forgot to eat the baby! SHIT! I FORGOT TO EAT MY FUCKINā BABY! I HATE FUCKINā KIDS!! I fucked up the piece!
Snoo starts chewing at the rug viciously; Rupio is being beaten to a bloody pulp by Cranston who knocks the lamp over. Darkness. As we hear Boris applauding from the dark. Kara then screams, as the light is turned on. Boris throws down his notepad.
Boris: (to Snoo, who is still rug chewing; hugging her) That wasā¦oh, Iāve come. Right in my pants. Amazing, Snoo. I canāt describe itā¦And youāre still struggling? You deserve a piss up after that. Cranston, do calm down. I do apologise for him and Kara. Sheās scared.
Kara: (finishes the vodka.) No, Iām not: I thought that was mind-blowing. It was my life, I could relate anything to it, and it said everything without saying anything. What was it called again?
Snoo: You know, I canāt remember, it wasā¦
Boris: A very different experience. Itāll get people thinking again, it pushed boundaries and I found it very relevant to todayās society: completely ā¦whatās the word?
Snoo: Fucked? I feel fucked.
Kara: (enthusiastically; hugs Snoo, who looks baffled.) It done something, it just helped me! Made me want to kill myself, but it freed me as well.
Boris: Thatās soooo interesting, it's a very modern illness. I think you should have suicide in it, Snoo.
Pause.
Snoo: (baffled.) But-
Boris: No, I think you should. Take my advice. Itās free and I like you. Iām very impressed!
Snoo: (excited; wipes away tears.) You like it? YOU LIKE IT! (Crying uncontrollably.) Iām so pleased you liked it, even though I forgot to eat the baby!
Cranston: (shocked; wiping blood off his fists.) Boris, itās fucking crap. FUCKING CRAP! Why did you kick me! Why? (Referring to Rupio.) He tried to fuck me; Iām calling the Police!
Boris: Iām sorry, I get passionate about my art! Letās not get the police involved in the professional world!
Cranston: (snidely to Snoo.) They're not professionals!
Boris: Who cares? Youāre not either but you pretend to be one, donāt you? Itās only a word.
Cranston: No, donāt attack me, Iām not fucked!
Boris: Youāve got an attention problem: you want my approval and attention all the time! Well, I donāt want yours. You tried to ruin a brilliant performance - all for your petty opinions! Another thing: Iām with Kara. Iām not going to get with you!
Kara: (Beat.) Iām not with you, Boris. I like many sexes, especially those from Saturn.
Boris: I know, but we could be one, sometime, of course. I donāt want to be with him though! Heās fucked!
Cranston cries, hugging Snoo, as she cries. She sits on Virgil, still in the rug. They lift Virgil and the pram back up. They clear up, crying together and throwing much of the junk into the pram.
Kara: (gushing.) Snooās a true artist, I love her. (Hugs Snoo, kissing her.) I love you, Snoo! Please love me, PLEASE! (Snoo does not respond.) It's fine if you don't, though my life is a bliss of living deaths. I will live for you!
Boris: (perving, openly stroking his penis.) Can I join in? (Chuckling to himself.) Itās like being a hippy this, eh?
Snoo: (to Cranston; suddenly blubbering to him.) They like us, they like us! This is the happiest day of my life! (To Rupio; patting him on the head.) They like us, Rupio! We've done it!
Boris: (reading from a torn page from his note pad.) I loved the immersion, it was real. And, I felt, it could have been more realistic, if weād actually seen the suicide. I like the world - Kubarro. Interesting, but itās the Lizard Queenās death. Itās a vague link to Jim Morrison and John Lee Hooker, isnāt it? Do you like to ride the snake? To be honest, I donāt get the relevance of a pointless pop cultural nod, when the feeling is there. It's there. You know? Can you see and feel it? Donāt blur it and confuse it when it says so much! Just let it linger! You-
Snoo: (confused; wipes her tears, pushing Kara off her. Approaches Boris, aggravated.) But I just fucking ODād!
Boris: And with better equipment you can have decent effects and a better use of music. Maybe some bangers too. Itāll aid the overdose, as you call it; it's a very cool product, Snoo. Very meow, very now. Of course, Snoo, I mean it's only very now in a slightly oldey retro new way. (Pause; checks his notes again and rubs his penis against Snoo.) You need music, something hardcore, and shocking to go with the theme. The theme is destruction, isnāt it? Yes?
Snoo: Noā¦Yes.... No, itās... Whatever! Boredom is the theme. Anyway, music dates. These themes donāt; theyāre universally speaking. Iām not changing!
Boris: (throughout this speech, Snoo gets very angry and jumps on the spot.) Thatās what I thought youād say, but it needs that killer punch and that release! Itās too bleak, dear girl. Itās real, but it isnāt popular reality: set up the debate, and then you can do your fuck up thing! I know bleak is cool, and you should give no answers to the questions you pose. I think thatās good, really trendy. Are you into gangbong rap - gang-star spelt ending in S.T.A? Or drum-umm-base. Or Drum N. Basil? I think itās a form of garage music - I reckon Hendrix said who knows! Do you? Well, there you go - no one knows! And I noted the tortured stereotypes; very strong. You know I envisaged you might need the characters in jam-jars to demonstrate it more effectively. You should accept criticism, Snoo. Thatās life. But the plus side is: I liked that sample. And I loved the dead body! Brilliant!
Snoo: (losing interest.) Do you? Iām lost? You taking the piss?
Boris: (smugly.) I donāt want to get too intellectual. (Takes a pathfinder radio from his pocket and tunes it; it makes a sound as he tunes it.) Letās decide a soundtrack - is that okay with you, Cranston.
Cranston: (mumbling.) Do what you want. (Crawls into the corner, with a bit of the broken bottle; sulks.) DO WHAT YOU FUCKING WANT!
Boris: Ooh, someoneās got P.M.T.
Snoo: (unsure laugh; Boris laughs louder) Thatās very good. I didnāt even know he was gay.
Boris: Heās not; just a boring farty-pants. Oh, by the way, I forgot to mention, I liked the Penis Queen imagery - thatās how you saw yourself in your mind, right? (Snoo looks baffled and lights a cigarillo.) Thatās fascinating. Especially the commentary on drugs and kiddie-shit. The puppets conveyed that strongly. Thatās very cool. It is trendy - this sort of thing, that is cool - at the moment. It wonāt be popular though. Iām trying to get this radio station, which is apparently a pirate one; I donāt think I can get Cuss FM in here. I believed it, but I didnāt. There was that part of me that was very, very, worried. You needed to express that to believe the death - I believed the pain. It was relevant, but not the death. Iāve issues with the way the death was executed.
Snoo: (angrily.) Look, I can do dying, okay? Iām good dead! I can do dead. I think. (Tense pause.) THIS IS BULLSHIT, YOUāRE CHATTING BULLSHIT! YOU DONāT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS! YOU KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT ME, OR WHAT I DO! IāLL GIVE YOU DEATH; THIS IS ME! (Composes herself.) Stop fiddling with that fucking old radio and watch, okay.
Boris: Sure. You watching, Kara? Snooās such a determined artist, revelling in her pain!
Kara: Oh, yes, Iāve learnt so much, Boris. You do know some interesting people! (Overjoyed; to Snoo.) I donāt need medication, when I see things like this. I love this pain! We should all go for a drink soon?
Snoo: WATCH!
Snoo takes off Rupioās feather boa, jumps onto the sofa, balancing awkwardly, and attaches the boa to the light. Snoo ties a noose around her neck.
Kara: (happily.) Iām happy, for once , Iāve found something to relate to and believe in. That aggression isā¦I canāt explain, but-
Boris: I know, I feel it.
Cranston: (he has cut his wrists with the broken bottle; they are dripping with blood. He screams, then stands and composes himself.) Thank you for coming, Boris. Iām sorry this evening has been a bit strange and I donāt normally do things thing like this. Thanks for the company, Kara. Nice to meet you. Iāll be in my room.
Cranston collapses, nobody cares.
Boris: Bye. (To Kara.) Heās such an attention seeker, who just latches on to artistic people. I donāt like him, I thought he was cultured, but heās too into himself. No-one should be made to care about that sort of self-indulgence.
Kara: (smiling.) Heās probably going to kill himself. All over an old film - and this play!
They laugh.
Snoo: You two watching! WATCH FUCKERS! Iāll understand what you mean, Iāll be back and Iāll make you a cuppa, or youāll have to meet us down the pub, or wherever, later on.
Snoo, aggressively throwing down the cigarillo, which starts a fire in the pram. It looks like a funeral pyre for Virgil, and this spreads ridiculously quickly across the room. Snoo jumps off the sofa and hangs herself. Kara and Boris applaud. Snoo hangs motionless, dead even though her feet touch the ground; she wants to be dead. There is a pause, as we hear the fire burn. Kara and Boris look baffled. Kara and Boris cough and splutter, clutching each other in fear. They back away towards the doorway, as the fire engulfs more of the room. We then hear Boris trying to tune the radio again.
Kara:(distressed; depressed again.) She killed herself...Why did she do that? I donāt get it.(Angered; to Boris.) I DONāT GET IT! WHY THE FUCK DID SHE DO THAT?
Boris: Blasted personal trauma the professional world will never understand! Iām rationalizing the irrational, but she wasnāt a happy bunny. She had a lot to prove, but did not know how to go about it. it is a great shame, really; I wouldāve liked to seen her eat the baby.
Kara cries uncontrollably, as Boris hugs her, both still coughing, smoke engulfs them.
Kara: (looks for her pills, but cannot find them; panics.) It canāt end like this, itās fading - burning away into nothing! Not like that, Boris! (Collapses crying, having a pseudo-seizure.) NOT LIKE THAT!
Boris: Iāll find some music, as a memorial. We'll do a e-one too - online that is, Kara! We should evacuate, though - I need music first though.
We hear sirens wailing in the distance; Boris tunes a radio, gagging. We hear:
Radio Presenter: Yes folks, and that was the fabulous Kane Gang with their nineteen-eighty-five smash hit, Gun Law. Now for something completely different...
As the fire burns the lounge, and the lights dim, but we hear the tide, Boris hugs Kara, still having violent spasms.
THREE
Penthouse panic room. LALIO is nursing TARVOA. LALIO is sitting down on the floor; TARVOA is now laying down too - her head is resting on LALIO'S gooey lap, as LALIO films herself fondling TARVOA with her camera phone.
LALIO(making a call to PIP as well as filming TARVOA; on speakerphone.) You had one bad trip baby, you're still in that space - that scary headpsace and all that shit!
PIP(off, can be heard through the speakerphone.) I don't know - what happened just then? I'm seeing things. I can't tell
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