(Lights up on Debbie alone on the stage; she is pacing; suddenly Gary bursts in on her; he is holding a gun)
GARY: You,
bitch, freeze! Get down on your knees.
DEBBIE: Oh,
no. Whatdya want? Who are you?
GARY: Don’t
ask, Baby. Just do what I say! Okay?
Okay?
DEBBIE: Okay, whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.
GARY: Do
what I say and you’ll be all right. Got
it?
DEBBIE:
Yeah, whatever. I mean, whatever
you say.
GARY: Then
get down on your knees. Like the
fuckin’ sleaze that you are.
(She does; he takes a rope and ties her hands behind
her back)
DEBBIE: What
are you gonna do to me?
GARY: You’ll
see. (He starts unbuttoning his
pants) Open your mouth, Baby, the
airplane’s about to land.
(Suddenly Debbie’s hands are in front of her,
untied)
DEBBIE: Hold
it, hold it.
GARY: What?
DEBBIE:
Cancel the flight, Sky King. You
did it again.
GARY: Did
what? What flight?
DEBBIE: You
tied the rope like a Cub Scout flunkie.
My hands are free. See? I can’t be at your mercy if my fuckin’ hands
are free. Jesus Christ, if this was a
bank robbery the customers would be takin’ money from you. Or fuckin’ ya up the ass.
GARY: Oh,
come on. Pretend a little. It’s a game.
DEBBIE: I
wanna fantasize, not pretend. There’s a
difference. Let’s try it again.
GARY: I’m
already ready, if you know what I mean.
DEBBIE: So?
GARY: So
let’s keep going.
DEBBIE: It’s
no good for me if the scene is gone.
GARY: So
whatd’ya want?
DEBBIE: Try
it again.
GARY: What?
DEBBIE: Try
it again. Make it good for me.
GARY: All right. Jesus Christ. Give me the rope. (She hands him the rope) I’ll be right back.
DEBBIE:
Don’t tell me you’ll be right back.
We’re not supposed to even know each other. It’s not a fantasy trip if you tell me you’ll be right back. Jesus.
GARY: Okay,
I’m outta here, and maybe I’ll bring some other fuckin’ creep back with me who
may just do somethin’ nasty to ya, ‘cause maybe I ain’t gonna be here to
protect ya no more, you know?
Okay? Is that okay?
DEBBIE:
Whatever. Just go. If I was a man I’d be soft by now.
GARY: No,
not if you were a man, you wouldn’t.
And I’m the man.
DEBBIE:
Yeah, right, Cub Scout.
GARY: Okay,
do you wanna do this or not? Huh? Yeah or nay? What? What is it?
DEBBIE: Yeah, yeah I do. (Pause) Well, get the fuck out, so we can start. You just have to learn to tie a little better.
GARY: Well,
that’s why you deal with rope when we
hit a place, ain’t it?
DEBBIE:
Let’s not talk work. Let’s just
do this. Go.
GARY: All
right, I’ll be right back.
DEBBIE:
Jesus, shut the . . .
GARY: I’m
gone. Just gone. Maybe I won’t be back.
(He exits; she stands there alone and starts to
pace; some time passes; she looks out the door)
DEBBIE:
Gary? Gary? (She turns and goes back into the apartment) What the hell.
(Suddenly Gary comes charging into the apartment
with his gun drawn; another man is with him.)
GARY: Hey
you, bitch! Don’t move. Danny, take the rope and tie her up.
DEBBIE: What
the fuck are you doin’?
GARY: Don’t
talk, lady. The last time I saw you I
told ya I might come back here and let some other creep fuck ya up. Din’t I tell ya that?
DEBBIE:
Gary, are you fuckin’ crazy?
GARY: Hey,
you don’t know me. I’m not Gary to
you. Remember? Do ya remember ya don’t know me? Huh?
DEBBIE: This
ain’t funny.
GARY: You
asked for it. Right? Right?
Tie her up, Danny.
(Debbie gets up and grabs her bag, pulls a gun out
and points it at Danny’s crotch)
DEBBIE:
Danny, what’re ya doin’?
DANNY:
Nothing, man. Gary just came
down to my apartment and said to come with.
So I did.
GARY: I told
ya I was gonna . . .
DEBBIE: Oh,
Jesus.
GARY: Well?
DEBBIE:
Gary, Danny’s my brother. I’m
not gonna go down on my brother. Not
‘ny more. We’re grown-ups now.
GARY: But
you said . . .
DEBBIE: I
didn’t say. You’re a loser. That’s what I do say. Loser.
Speakin’ of losers, Danny, go home.
DANNY: It’s
not like we’d be fuckin’ or shit. He
just said ya were gonna go down on it.
DEBBIE:
Danny, if you don’t go home I’m gonna blow your nuts off, okay? And neither your sister or your mother are
gonna kiss ‘em and make ‘em better, okay?
DANNY: Okay,
sure. Whatever. I don’t care. (Beat) Mom’s dead.
DEBBIE: Like
I don’t know that. Go.
DANNY (leaving):
Just trying to do Gary a favor.
Nobody appreciates nothin’ no more.
(Danny exits)
DEBBIE: What
the hell were you thinking?
GARY: I
dunno. I guess I wasn’t. He lives a floor below and I thought . . . I
just thought that . . . you know . . . a third person might . . .
DEBBIE:
Don’t. No good. Never mind.
Don’t wanna know. Forget it.
GARY: Jesus,
all right, I’m sorry. Let’s try
again. I’ll be right back.
DEBBIE: No!
GARY: I
wont’ be right back. I didn’t mean
that. You know what I mean.
DEBBIE:
No. No, let’s just do it
normal. Fuck the fantasy. We’ll save it for a rainy day. Let’s just get into bed, under the sheets,
and do it normal. We get enough of the
guns and the ropes and stuff every day anyway.
It’s what we do. Let’s just do
it.
GARY: All
right. Whatever you want, Baby. I’m all about satisfyin’ you.
DEBBIE (getting on the floor): Good.
Then come ‘ere. Come to Mama.
GARY (laying beside her): Okay, Daddy’s comin’.
Daddy’s comin’.
DEBBIE: He
is. I forgot.
GARY: What?
DEBBIE: Your
mother called. Her and your rich stepfather
are comin’ tonight. I totally
forgot. We gotta get ready.
GARY: We
can’t . . . what’re they comin’ for?
DEBBIE: I
dunno. Maybe she hasn’t seen any
cockroaches since she married him. I
don’t know. They’re comin’ to visit,
whatdya think?
GARY: Ah,
Jeez, I hate that bastard. He’s a jerk.
DEBBIE:
Yeah, but he’s rich and he’s old and he’s married to your mother. Just think, when he dies, you might be rich
and young and get away from your mother.
Just treat him nice. With his
money we wouldn’t have to be robbin’ any gas stations or anything. We could live as high off the hog as we used
to, when we first started in the bank business.
GARY: I
will, I just hate it. I’ll be nice.
DEBBIE: Do
you think your mother really believes you’re in the banking business?
GARY: Well,
I don’t think she knows we rob ‘em, if that’s what you mean.
DEBBIE:
She’s sorta stupid.
GARY: But
he’s not. I’m afraid he might figure it
out some day.
DEBBIE:
Wouldn’t that be a twist? The
man who owns the security alarm business figurin’ out his stepson is a thief, a
robber, a breakerer and enterer.
GARY: Baby,
you got me goin’ now. Let me shoot my
big gun in you. We got time. It’s loaded and the bullets are ready to
fly. Let me tie you up and shoot.
DEBBIE: All
right, quick, get the rope. But I wanna
come too.
GARY (reaching for the rope): All right, bitch, you’re mine.
DEBBIE: It’s
about time.
GARY: Fight
it, come on. Act like you care.
(She starts to scream; there is a knock at the door)
DEBBIE: Ah,
shit, they’re here.
GARY: Jeez,
timing.
(She gets up, crosses to the door, and opens it; a
police officer is at the door)
DEBBIE (opening the door): Hi. We’ve been expecting you.
OFFICER: You
have?
DEBBIE:
Whatd’you want?.
GARY: We
didn’t do nothin’.
OFFICER: You
called? I thought the neighbors called.
DEBBIE:
Neighbors?
OFFICER:
Somebody called and said it sounds like a rape or something here. I’m a cop.
We investigate things like that.
It’s my job.
GARY: You
got the wrong place, I guess.
OFFICER:
Maybe, but I heard a scream.
Just now.
DEBBIE: That
was me. (Beat) I was trying to mean it.
OFFICER (to Gary; pointing to the spot where they
had been laying): Is that a gun? Why are you holding a rope in your hand?
GARY: I
couldn’t find a belt.
DEBBIE:
Gary, shut up. Look, it’s a
little embarrassing, but . . .
OFFICER: No,
I’d like to hear what he has to say.
GARY: I
carry a gun for protection.
DEBBIE (nervously laughing): I keep telling him a rubber would be better.
(Awkward silence)
OFFICER: I
take it you two are together?
GARY: Yeah.
OFFICER:
Seems like you deserve each other.
DEBBIE:
Well, we’re not together at the moment, because you knocked at the door.
OFFICER: And
there’s no one else here?
GARY: No,
no, not at all.
OFFICER: Is
that gun registered?
DEBBIE:
Listen, this isn’t Dragnet. It’s a private apartment where two people
were gettin’ down with each other. It’s
not like we use the thing to rob people.
It’s part of a game. If you must
know I like him to put it in me. Sort
of like a sexual Russian roulette, but without the bullets.
OFFICER: I
don’t need to hear this.
DEBBIE: It’s
not even real.
OFFICER: You
don’t have to tell me any more. The
investigation is over.
DEBBIE:
Thanks Officer, because, you know, we wanna get back to it.
OFFICER:
Okay, I don’t need to know. Just
try to keep it down. You can have your
fun without being loud. The neighbors,
remember.
DEBBIE:
Okay, bye. Thanks for your
concern.
(The police officer exits)
GARY: You’re
so fuckin’ smart sometimes.
DEBBIE:
That’s why I’m the brains and you’re the muscle.
GARY: I’ll
show you muscle, Baby. Come on. Let’s do this thing.
DEBBIE: Ya
have to unzip your pants, Hon.
(There is a knock at the door)
GARY: Jesus
Christ.
(Debbie goes to the door)
DEBBIE (as she’s answering the door): It’s open!
Now what do you want?
MOTHER: Is
that any way to greet someone? Miss
Manners would be appalled.
DEBBIE: Oh,
hi. We’ve been expecting you.
GARY: Well,
she was.
DEBBIE: I’m
sorry, I thought you were someone else.
Come on in.
MOTHER:
Thank you, that’s better. Good
evening, Deborah.
DEBBIE:
Debbie.
MOTHER:
Deborah, I believe you know my husband.
DEBBIE:
Debbie’s fine.
MOTHER:
That’s good to hear. We’re doing
well, too. Thanks. Darling, this is Deborah if you forgot. I know how you are. And you should know my son, Gary.
GARY: Hi,
Mom. Dad.
STEPFATHER:
Stepfather. You may call me
stepfather.
GARY: I just
thought Dad . . .
STEPFATHER:
I’m not your Dad. We’ve been
through this before. I’m your
stepfather. I am your mother’s
spouse. Just because I am wealthy does
not mean that you should pander to me.
GARY: Mom,
you know I didn’t mean . . .
MOTHER: Just
call the man Stepfather, Gary. It’s
what he wants.
STEPFATHER:
Was that a police car out front?
MOTHER: Yes,
is this neighborhood safe?
GARY: Yeah,
Mom, it’s safe. They got a call and had
to check it out. There was nothing.
MOTHER:
Well, good.
GARY: So, I
just found out you were coming. What’s
up?
MOTHER: Oh,
nothing. We just thought we’d stop by
for a visit. See how you’re doing. How are things in the banking business, son?
GARY: Been
better.
DEBBIE:
Much.
GARY (to stepfather, after a long silence): How is your new business going, Stepfather?
STEPFATHER:
Very well. My security systems
are doing the job of keeping the money and possessions of my clients in their
own hands, where it all belongs. We’ve recently added (mispronouncing the next
word) retina scans . . .
MOTHER:
Retina, honey.
STEPFATHER (still mispronouncing): Thank you, Dear. Thank you for correc ting me . . . we added retina scans and
voice recognition software to even our most basic packages. Not one person has bypassed our security
systems this year to successfully execute a robbery. Not one.
MOTHER: And
fortunately for us, the clients pay dearly for their security.
STEPFATHER: Really, the money we’re charging them, for the cost of the materials and the service, is sort of outrageous.
MOTHER: But
they’ll pay anything to feel safer in this world.
STEPFATHER (laughing): It’s highway robbery, really.
MOTHER:
There’s a sucker born every minute.
DEBBIE:
What’dya mean, sucker? Don’t
they need your system to protect
their property?
STEPFATHER:
Well, yes and no.
MOTHER: We
haven’t bothered, and we could install one for next to nothing.
STEPFATHER:
You see, one of the reasons our success is so great is because we only
sell to the rich. They’re the only ones
who can afford it, actually.
MOTHER: Now
dear, once in a while you do sell to poorer people who are dumb enough to put
it on their credit cards.
STEPFATHER (chuckling): I even had one guy take out a loan.
MOTHER (laughing):
He was afraid someone might break in and steal his collection of Elvis
memorabilia.
STEPFATHER:
Speaking of rich. But the rich,
you see, we already live in well-patrolled and protected enclaves that are
almost impossible for low-life scum to even find, let alone rob. Once, I even got lost trying to find a party
at the Governor’s mansion.
DEBBIE:
Scum?
MOTHER: He
believes anyone who steals is scum.
DEBBIE: I
figured that out.
MOTHER: And
I think I agree.
GARY: Does
that include the Governor?
STEPFATHER:
The Governor is a good man.
MOTHER: He
certainly knows how to host a party.
STEPFATHER:
He certainly knows how to drink.
DEBBIE:
Would you think your own son was scum if he stole?
MOTHER:
That’s a ridiculous question. My
baby might not be top shelf in a lot of ways, but he is not evil.
STEPFATHER:
The point is, if they do find scum the local police immediately accost
them for loitering, littering, and other suspicious behavior before they can do
anything.
DEBBIE: How
nice.
MOTHER: It
is. To serve and protect.
STEPFATHER:
Those who pay their salaries. I
believe most thieves know they’re bound to receive more prison time for
stealing from an aristocratic family, or even one of new wealth, than from
knocking over their fellow low-life’s corner grocery. So why not take the easier mark?
GARY: Makes
sense to me.
MOTHER: Oh,
Gary, you don’t know anything about robbery or security. You’re no scum. You’re a banker.
STEPFATHER (laughing): On the contrary, dear, bankers are the worst robbers of all. They charge outrageous interest on loans
while giving almost none back on deposits, and those deposits are used to
invest and make even more money for the banks.
It is the finest scam ever invented.
Other than insurance.
MOTHER: You
shouldn’t talk that way. I think my son
believes he is making an honest living.
GARY: Yeah,
I am.
STEPFATHER:
Honest, maybe. A living, I’m not
sure.
MOTHER:
Well, it’s certainly better than Deborah’s brother is doing at that
burger place. At least they’re doing
better than that.
GARY: You
have such a way of makin’ me feel so good about myself, Mother.
STEPFATHER:
I think that what your mother is saying is that if you were making
better money your living circumstances should be better as well. I was going to try to sell you a security
system today, but I don’t think you need it.
I noticed that when we walked in the room.
GARY: No, we
don’t, I guess.
STEPFATHER:
And you probably couldn’t afford it either.
GARY:
Prob’ly not.
DEBBIE: We
could charge it, Gary.
MOTHER: What
are you making these days?
DEBBIE: Less
and less all the time.
GARY: My job
keeps getting harder and I keep bringing home less.
DEBBIE:
Almost as little as Danny now.
MOTHER:
Inflation.
STEPFATHER:
I’m so sorry to hear that, Stepson.
Well, we should be going then.
It was so nice seeing you again.
MOTHER:
Gary, Deborah, take care.
DEBBIE:
Debbie.
MOTHER: And
call once in a while. We should really
get together for a laugh or two.
GARY: I
will. Bye, Mother, Father.
STEPFATHER:
Stepfather. I am your
stepfather. Good night.
(They exit)
GARY: Good
night, Stepfucker.
MOTHER (reentering): By the way, it always means so much to see you.
DEBBIE (under her breath): Whatever.
(They exit; Gary and Debbie are in the corner with
their backs to the audience; Danny enters; an off stage voice speaks.)
ANNOUNCER:
Welcome to the County’s Most Wanted, a public service program brought to
you by 24-7 Convenience Stores and your County Sheriff’s office. Remember, a $1,000 reward is given for the
arrest and conviction of persons from this program and callers may remain
anonymous.
DANNY: A
thousand dollars. That’s more money than
I’ve had my whole life.
ANOUNCER:
You could buy all sorts of things with that.
DANNY: I could buy all sorts of things with that.
ANNOUNCER:
The Union Bank was robbed at gunpoint last night. Police are looking for this man and woman.
(Gary and Debbie turn around)
DANNY:
That’s funny. It looks like Gary
and Debbie.
ANNOUNCER:
They were captured by the bank security system.
DANNY: Duh,
if they were captured already who’s gonna get the reward?
ANNOUNCER:
The woman was overheard to call the man Gary.
DANNY: Wow,
he has the same name as Gary.
ANNOUNCER:
They fled the bank on foot . . .
DANNY: Duh,
this guy’s dumb.
ANNOUNCER: .
. . but dropped most of the cash on the way out of the bank.
DANNY: Talk
about dumb. That could be Gary.
ANNOUNCER: The cash was dropped when the male suspect stopped and dropped his pants for the security camera.
DANNY:
Cool. Maybe it is Gary.
ANNOUNCER:
Positive identification can be made by a tattoo of a surfboard that goes
across the suspect’s buttocks.
DANNY: I’ve never
seen Gary’s ass.
ANNOUNCER:
If you have seen this man or woman, please contact law enforcement
authorities immediately. The couple is
considered armed and dangerous.
Remember, it could make you $1,000 richer.
DANNY: One
thousand dollars rich. That would be so
cool. I gotta go talk to Gary and
Debbie.
ANNOUNCER:
Stay tuned for Adopt-A-Pet, the show that lets you look at animals
waiting to be adopted.
DANNY: Damn,
I better go now. I don’t wanna miss
that again today.
(He exits; the two come to life)
GARY: I
still think it was too funny the way I mooned the camera.
DEBBIE: It
was stupid.
GARY: I
thought it was funny.
DEBBIE: But
you dropped the money. We brought home
$70 from an armed robbery that could get us 20 years. Those numbers aren’t good.
GARY: Shit,
there’s other banks, other stores.
There’s more money out there.
The world’s full of money.
(A knock at the door)
DEBBIE: Less
than there used to be. Who is it?
DANNY: Your
bro, Danny.
DEBBIE: Come
on in, it’s open.
DANNY: Hey.
GARY: Hey,
what’s up?
DEBBIE: Hi,
Danny.
DANNY: I
thought I saw you two on T. V.
GARY: Wow,
no shit.
DEBBIE:
What’re ya talkin’ about, Danny?
DANNY: On
the County’s Most Wanted show. It was
cool.
GARY: Wow,
T. V.? Me? On T. V.? That is cool.
DEBBIE:
That’s not cool. Jesus, are you a fuckin’ idiot? Danny, what’d you see?
DANNY: I saw
these two people who looked like you from a bank that was robbed. But I knew it couldn’t be you. Everyone has some twins, ya know?
GARY: So I
wasn’t on T. V.? It was just someone
who looked like me.
DANNY: Yeah,
this guy had a tattoo across his ass.
Of a surfboard. Ain’t that
stupid? And I knew you wouldn’t be dumb
enough to ink your ass with a surfboard.
Ya ever go to prison with that and some tough guy’s gonna take it as an
invitation to surf right on in, if you know what I mean.
GARY: How
the fuck did they know that?
DEBBIE: You
dropped your drawers for the camera.
Remember? That’s why you dropped
the cash. We were just reminiscin’ . .
.
DANNY: Hey,
that’s what the idiot on T. V. did. He
dropped the money ‘cause he dropped trou and flashed his smilin’ moon at the
camera. I wish they’da showed it. It’s cool.
That’d be funny.
GARY: Jesus
Christ, it was me.
DANNY: You,
Gary?
GARY: Yeah,
me.
DANNY: You
got a surfboard on your ass?
GARY: Yeah,
I do.
DANNY: Wait,
that means you rob banks and stuff?
GARY:
Yeah. (Beat) Jesus, Danny, sometimes you make Einstein
look like a kindergartner, you know?
DANNY: Hey,
thanks. But robbin’ banks?
GARY: I said
yeah.
DANNY:
Debbie, did you know that?
DEBBIE:
Danny, I do it with him.
DANNY: Duh.
DEBBIE: I
was the gal in the picture with him.
Banks. Convenience stores. Houses.
Whatever’s a good target. But
the targets aren’t as good as they used to be, that’s for sure. That’s what we were just talkin’ about. We’re goin’ broke. We can’t afford rent.
DANNY: You
guys could get in trouble.
GARY:
Einstein strikes again.
DEBBIE: We
gotta go into hiding, before someone tells.
GARY: Who’s
gonna tell? The only one who knows is
Danny.
DEBBIE:
Maybe he wasn’t the only one to watch the show.
GARY: Yeah,
like anyone with a brain watches that stuff.
DEBBIE: We
gotta go.
GARY: Or the
Adopt-A-Pet show. Jesus. There’s a ratings winner.
DANNY: I
love that show. You watch it,
Gary? Especially the dogs. The dogs are the best. It’s gonna be on in a few minutes.
DEBBIE: I’m
gonna go get some things.
DANNY: Once
they had on a guano you could adopt.
DEBBIE:
Danny, that’s bat shit.
DANNY: No,
it’s true. I saw it. I love lizards.
(She exits)
GARY: Goddam
it all.
DANNY:
Wow. I can’t believe that was
you.
GARY: Well,
it was. Now ya know.
DANNY: I’m
in shock.
GARY: We
never hurt nobody, Danny. Never.
DANNY: Well,
I’m still in shock.
GARY: It’s
okay.
DANNY:
Shock.
GARY: I’ll
be right back.
(He exits)
DANNY (exiting):
A fuckin’ surfboard on his ass.
Who’da guessed it? (Yelling off
stage to them) Hey, I gotta go catch
the show. I’ll let you know if I see ya
on Adopt-A-Pet, too!
(Danny has exited; a clerk enters; he/she is
listening to music on headphones and moving to the music; Gary and Debbie
enter, talking.)
GARY: We
don’t have to leave town. We just gotta
lay low.
DEBBIE:
Well, we can’t leave town. We
can’t afford to take a Greyhound bus three blocks. We don’t have any choice.
GARY: We
could take a city bus.
DEBBIE:
That’s not the point.
GARY: Well,
we’ll be all right. We just gotta keep
working. (To clerk) Hey, it’s your lucky day. (The clerk ignores him) Hey, I’m a customer! (The clerk still ignores him; Gary grabs the
clerk) Hey, hey!
CLERK (taking off headphones): What?
Be a little patient, dude.
GARY: It’s
your lucky day.
CLERK: Well,
no it’s not, really. It’s not my lucky
day.
GARY: I said
it’s your lucky day.
CLERK: Look,
we’re closed.
GARY: No,
you’re open.
CLERK: We’re
closed.
GARY: We
walked in the door. You’re open.
CLERK: Bite
me, we’re closed.
GARY (brandishing a gun): My friend here says you’re open.
CLERK: What
the hell, man? Put that thing away.
GARY: Jesus
Christ, whatever happened to customer service?
Whatever happened to the customer is always right?
CLERK:
Welcome to the 21st century.
GARY (putting the gun to the clerk’s face): Welcome to your lucky day.
CLERK: Wait,
man, I don’t want any trouble. We’re
trained to give you whatever you want.
GARY: Coulda
fooled me.
DEBBIE: We
want all your money. Then we’ll put the
guns away and go away. We don’t wanna
hurt a young kid like you.
GARY: That’s
debatable.
CLERK:
There’s no money. We’re closed.
DEBBIE: You
can’t tell me you’ve already dropped every last cent into a safe for the
night. I’m gettin’ tired of that one.
CLERK: No,
the boss took it. There is no
safe. We’re closed permanently. Notice the empty shelves. We’ve been losing money for years.
GARY: How
dumb do ya think we are? Huh?
DEBBIE:
Gary, the shelves are empty. The
kid’s not lyin’.
GARY: Ah,
Jesus, we got rent to pay.
CLERK: I
didn’t close it. I lost my job,
dude. Lucky day, my ass.
GARY: Well,
what the hell are we supposed to do,
huh?
CLERK: Take
what’s left. There’s some stuff left—in
the back there. Just don’t shoot that
thing.
GARY: Okay,
don’t move or try anything stupid.
Debbie, I’ll hold him while you grab stuff.
(She exits)
CLERK: Now
come on, Gary, man, you wouldn’t hurt me, would you?
GARY: How’d
ya know my name?
CLERK: Your
wife just called you Gary.
GARY: She
ain’t my wife. She’s my girlfriend.
DEBBIE (off stage):
You shouldn’t be telling him that.
GARY: We
shouldn’t be saying each others’ names.
Forget the names, all right, kid?
Forget the names.
CLERK: What
names?
GARY: Gary
and Debbie. Jesus, are you stupid, or
what?
CLERK: I was
forgetting them. I was showing you I
was forgetting them.
(Debbie re-enters with some boxes)
GARY: What ya
got?
DEBBIE: Not
much. No wonder they went out of
business. A case of Scotch tape, a
coupla boxes of tampons—I can use those—and two things of beef jerky. We’re gettin’ rich.
GARY:
Rich? On that shit? What’re ya talkin’ about?
DEBBIE: It
was sarcasm. This sucks. We gotta do somethin’.
GARY: Like
get outta here. Let’s go.
DEBBIE: Get
the door. My hands are full.
GARY (exiting):
Don’t call the cops.
Please. It’s been a hard enough
day for us.
(They exit)
CLERK: I
can’t call the cops. There’s no phone
any more. (Pause) This bites.
I’m going home.
(Clerk puts headphones back on and exits; Gary and
Debbie enter opposite)
GARY: So,
okay, so what’ve we made this week?
DEBBIE:
Seventy bucks.
GARY: Don’t
forget the stuff.
DEBBIE: Oh,
yeah, two boxes of tampons for personal use.
I already broke open one on the way home. Two beef jerkies. You
finished one of those on the way home.
The other we might wanna save in case we get evicted and have to live
under a bridge somewhere. And one giant
case of Scotch tape. I don’t know,
street value of what, maybe twenty dollars if we jack the price?
GARY: How
much do we have in the bank?
DEBBIE:
Well, we had fifty two bucks, but we withdrew ten bucks two times. That’s twenty. You got charged for bouncing that one check, so there’s another
fifteen bucks. Then the monthly fees
came in at seven-fifty, and the two ATM withdrawals at a dollar fifty
each. That leaves us six-fifty and we
have to keep a five dollar balance, so we can spend a buck fifty more. I don’t know, should we go out for dinner
tonight? Wait, wait, wait—the only way
we can get to that last buck fifty is by writing a check, which will cost 25
cents, so we really have a dollar twenty-five we’re good on. I guess dinner’s out.
GARY: Okay,
so a dollar twenty-five and seventy cash and maybe twenty comin’ for the tape
is how much?
DEBBIE:
We’re not gettin’ anything for the tape. That’s ninety-one and a quarter, if we get twenty for the tape.
If we can get anything for the tape.
What we have is seventy-one twenty-five.
GARY: Damn,
you’re smart. Howd’ya do that so fast?
DEBBIE: It’s
a gift.
GARY: How
much is rent again?
DEBBIE:
Seven hundred and twenty-five dollars.
GARY: Jesus,
for this place? There should be a
law. That’s not right.
DEBBIE: No,
it’s not. Ya say that every month.
GARY: So how
much are we short?
DEBBIE: Ya
say that every month too.
GARY: So how
much? That was the question.
DEBBIE: On
rent, a little over six hundred, between six and six-fifty. Of course if we wanna eat, that’ll take a
couple more bucks.
GARY: Howd’d
this happen? We used to be good. We used to be able to hit a place and live
for months. Now we get donuts and stale
coffee from some pimple-faced asshole who doesn’t give a shit about customer
service. What’s going on?
DEBBIE: I
don’t know. There’s no money to be
had. And we didn’t used to be
good. We used to be lucky.
GARY: Well,
the rules are all changin’. It’s
pissin’ me off. Everything’s
changin’. We can hardly ever do banks
anymore ‘cause they all got security cameras and security guards and fuckin’
exploding dye that leaves you red as a beet all week. Then anyone who sees you knows somethin’s up, but when they ask
ya questions ya can’t answer ‘em. And
now all the gas stations have security cameras and stupid kids that throw money
into safes that they don’t know how to open.
And no-one can do drive-aways anymore ‘cause a pre-pay. Fuckin’ department stores, forget it. Nobody uses cash no more. It’s all check and card. Credit, debit, don’t matter. It’s not money. You can’t steal numbers and buy a lunch.
DEBBIE: No,
you can’t. It sucks.
(Pause)
GARY: That’d
be funny, though. Here, I’ll give you
an eight and a nine for a burger and pie, and you pull out these numbers and
they hafta take ‘em. Like ya have a
bunch of sixes and sevens in your pocket, ya know. That’s a funny image.
(Beat)
DEBBIE:
Sometimes you’re really dumb.
GARY: I wish
life was that simple.
DEBBIE: But
it’s not. It’s nothin’ but a cycle of
debt.
GARY: I wish
we could just live in a cabin in the woods and howl with the wolves.
DEBBIE: The
wolves’d charge us.
GARY: Which
means we gotta keep workin’.
DEBBIE:
Yeah, ‘fraid it does.
GARY: So we
gotta pull another job somewhere. It’s
all we know. How ‘bout the 24-7 store
on Main and Seventh. There’s only ever
one person there at a time. Usually
just that one old guy.
DEBBIE: All
right, grab your gear, let’s go. But we
better get somethin’.
(They exit; a knock is heard; Danny enters opposite
and crosses; a police officer is at the door)
DANNY:
Hello.
OFFICER: Is
your name Danny?
DANNY: Yeah,
how’d ya know that?
OFFICER: I
think that’s the name you gave when you called and asked for someone to come to
this address.
DANNY: Oh,
you’re the police?
OFFICER (pointing to his badge): Yes.
How may I help you?
DANNY: So I
don’t hafta give ya my name or nothin’, right?
OFFICER (pulling out a notebook): You already did, Danny. I have it here. You gave it when you called.
DANNY: The
show said I could stay amona—anon—anomiss—uh—I don’ it was some word. I don’t know what it means, but it means I
don’t hafta give my name. I mean I
don’t know how to say it—anona—anona something—but I don’t hafta tell you who I
am.
OFFICER:
Right, but you already did. What
show?
DANNY: The
County’s Most Wanted.
OFFICER: So
you’re reporting a crime that you know something about? Is that what I’m hearing?
DANNY: I didn’t do it. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout it.
OFFICER: I’m
a little confused.
DANNY: The
bank robbery.
OFFICER:
What bank robbery?
DANNY: The Union Bank. I didn’t have anything to do with it.
OFFICER: But
you know something about it?
DANNY: Yeah,
I know the name of the guy who did it.
OFFICER:
That’s it?
DANNY: Don’t
you wanna know?
OFFICER and DANNY: It’s Gary.
DANNY: How’d
you know that?
OFFICER: I’m
a cop. (Beat) Lucky guess. Anything
else?
DANNY (noticing the officer’s gun): Is that a gun?
OFFICER: I’m
a cop.
DANNY: Oh,
yeah. Oh, so do you give me the reward,
or do I hafta pick it up somewhere?
OFFICER:
What reward?
DANNY: The
thousand dollars. The T. V. said I’d
get a thousand dollars for information.
OFFICER:
Listen, Danny, I’m sorry to break this to you, but we can’t give you
money for information we already have.
We already know the male suspect’s name is Gary. That was mentioned on the show.
DANNY: So it
wasn’t a lucky guess like you said?
OFFICER: No.
DANNY: So I
don’t get the money?
OFFICER: Not
for something we already know, no.
DANNY: I
need the money.
OFFICER:
Sorry.
DANNY: I
wanted to help Gary and Debbie with their rent.
OFFICER:
Who?
DANNY:
Nothin’. I didn’t say nothin’.
OFFICER: I
thought you just said a couple of names, and one of them was Gary.
DANNY: I
thought I was gonna get the money.
OFFICER: We
can’t pay you for something we already know.
DANNY:
That’s not fair.
OFFICER:
Sorry, not this time. Let us
know if you have anything more.
(Pause) Well, if that’s all, I
guess I’ll be going. Thanks for trying
to be a model citizen.
(He heads to the door)
DANNY: The
girl’s name is Debbie.
OFFICER (stopping and turning): What girl?
DANNY: The
girl with the guy at the bank. It’s
Debbie.
OFFICER:
That’s the name you said before.
You know her?
DANNY: No,
but her name’s Debbie. She’s Gary’s
girlfriend. I didn’t want to tell you
her name if I didn’t have to. I just
want the money.
OFFICER: Why
didn’t you want to tell me if you didn’t have to?
DANNY: She’d
kill me.
OFFICER: So,
you do know her?
DANNY: No, I
was just givin’ you their names.
OFFICER: Why
don’t you come with me down to the police station, so I can take a statement
from you? I need to get this
information down accurately for you to get any money out of this.
DANNY: I
don’t have anything to tell ya. I don’t
know nothin’.
OFFICER:
Danny, you’ve already made it clear that you do know something. I really wouldn’t want to arrest you for
aiding and abetting a criminal, but I may have to.
DANNY: But
you’re not s’posed ta know me. I’m
amon—amona—Fuck! I’m someone whose name
can be not known.
OFFICER:
Danny, I know your name. First
and last. Is that pot-pourri?
DANNY: What?
OFFICER: In
the basket. What is that?
DANNY: No,
it’s not pot. It’s that red flower
stuff that smells nice.
OFFICER:
Okay. I know you know who the
robbers are. I know you know more than
you’re telling me. It’s against the law
to withhold information on a crime.
You’re obstructing a police investigation. You could face prison time for that. It doesn’t even matter if it’s your mother you’re protecting.
DANNY: She’s
not my mother. She’s my sister.
(Long pause)
OFFICER:
Danny, I’m not going to force you to go to the station with me. But you’ve now told me who the suspects
are. There’s nothing left for you to
tell. So you might as well come down to
the station and fill out the paperwork.
You might as well at least get the reward for helping out.
DANNY: I can
still get the reward?
OFFICER:
Once the two of them are arrested and convicted. Not until then. But this is critical information. It looks good. It looks
like you’ll get the reward once they’re convicted and behind bars.
DANNY: I
can’t narc on my sister. I don’t know
nothin’. I’m not goin’ anywhere with
you. I din’t tell ya any of what I just
told ya.
OFFICER: I
understand. Here’s my business card. If you change your mind, call. In the meantime you gave me plenty to work
on. Thanks.
(Danny does not take the card)
DANNY: I
don’t need the money that bad. I ain’t
no Judas Priest. Get outta here. (The officer exits) Jesus, she is gonna kill me.
(Danny exits; an old clerk enters opposite; Gary and
Debbie enter; Gary pulls out his gun; Debbie watches at the door)
GARY: Gimme all your money.