(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 21^st 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. Quick.

OLD CLERK: What?

GARY: Gimme the money.

OLD CLERK: Say again. I’m hard of hearing.

GARY: This is a robbery, goddam it!

OLD CLERK: Somebody robbed you? Let me call the police. (Picks up a phone and dials)

GARY: No!

OLD CLERK: It’s a good thing you had the gun.

GARY: Don’t move!

OLD CLERK: You don’t want help? (Into the phone) Hello? Hello. Never mind, he doesn’t want help.

GARY: SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GIMME ALL YOUR MONEY!

OLD CLERK: You’re robbing me?

GARY: Yes! Hang up the goddam phone!

OLD CLERK (hanging up the phone): Why didn’t you say . . .

GARY (pushing the gun at him): Shut up!

CLERK (grabbing his chest) Aah. Ooh.

GARY: Gimme your money. Quickly. Come on. Quickly means like now. What’re ya fuckin’ doin’?

DEBBIE: We don’t have all day.

OLD CLERK: Aaaah.

DEBBIE (louder): We don’t have all day!

GARY: Why are you yellin’ at me?

DEBBIE: I was yellin’ to him.

OLD CLERK: Aah, aah.

GARY: What?

OLD CLERK: Aah. My chest hurts. Aaah.

GARY: Don’t fuck with me. I don’t need this.

OLD CLERK: Aaaaah. Oh, no.

(He falls to the floor, motionless; Gary bends down and checks his pulse)

GARY: Fuuuck. Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck. Fuckin’ . . . Fuck. Oh, fuck.

DEBBIE: What? Don’t tell me . . .

GARY: Fuck.

DEBBIE: Dead?

GARY: Fuck.

DEBBIE: He’s dead.

GARY: Fuckin’ fuck.

DEBBIE: Fuckin’ A.

GARY: Fuck.

DEBBIE: Oh, Jesus, what next? What’re we gonna do? What’re we gonna do? What’re we gonna do? What’re we . . .

GARY (yelling): FUCK! Shut the fuck up! Let me think. (Pause; he holds the clerk’s head up): Also, poor York, I knew him. (Debbie glares at him) Well?

DEBBIE: What’re ya doin’? That’s thinkin’?

GARY: I saw that on Bugs Bunny or somethin’ once. I thought it was cool—poetry in animation.

DEBBIE: The guy’s dead, Gary.

GARY: I know.

DEBBIE: And you think that’s cool?

GARY: Not that he’s dead. But we can’t change that now anyways.

DEBBIE: And you’re not a poet.

GARY: I know it.

DEBBIE: Let’s go.

GARY: Hey, I rhymed there. D’ja hear that? I do know how to rhyme.

DEBBIE: Yeah, with asshole. Let’s go. The guy is dead.

GARY: I didn’t pull the trigger or nothin’.

DEBBIE: Not literally.

GARY: What’s that mean?

DEBBIE: It means it’s time to go. It means we gotta think about goin’ straight.

GARY: Don’t blame me for the guy’s tired body. Let’s grab what we can and get outta here. Nobody to stop us it’ll be the easiest hit ever. (Gary struggles with the cash register) How the hell do you open these things? Why isn’t anything just fuckin’ simple anymore? I can’t open it. Everything needs codes. Nothin’s like it used to be. Everything’s complicated. Nothin’s simple. Everything’s impossible.

DEBBIE: Then let’s go. Please.

GARY: It’s not like he’s gonna call the cops or nothin’.

DEBBIE: He already did. I don’t like dead things.

GARY: I never seen a dead guy before. It’s sorta weird.

DEBBIE: It creeps me out.

GARY: I mean a real dead guy. I’ve seen ‘em in the funeral home, after they’re all done up. All filled up with water or whatever, something other than blood. Ya know, they always have this pale, cold-looking skin. Layin’ there with their eyes shut. Sleep?—shit. Everything’s just empty. You been to funerals, right? You know what I mean.

DEBBIE: Shut up. Let’s go.

GARY: There’s stuff we could take.

DEBBIE: Not from a dead guy, Gary, not from a dead guy.

GARY: We wouldn’t be takin’ it from him. We’d be takin’ it from the man, from the big corporations that make old folks like him work like dogs in retirement. That’s why he died. They took his soul and wore his heart out. That’s why. Not ‘cause of us. We’ll jus’ take a few things.

DEBBIE: No! I don’t care. I want outta here. Now!

GARY: You’re really freakin’ out.

DEBBIE: It is freakin’ me out. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna think about it. I just wanna live. I just wanna have a little money to spend, a place to live, some time with you and not a care in the world. Maybe a baby. Dja ever think of that? Fuckin’ for more than fuckin’?

GARY: Aw, come on, Baby . . .

DEBBIE: No, I’m tired of stupid heists that go bad and snotty clerks that know nothin’ and the possibility that we might kill someone some day. I’m not ready to kill or be killed over this petty shit, and this is the closest we’ve ever come to that. Stickin’ a gun in someone’s face and asking them for money is one thing, but killin’ them? Causing them a heart attack or whatever the hell just happened here? That’s not good. Honey, we gotta think about retirement. We gotta think about another way of livin’. I’m tired of lookin’ over my shoulder.

GARY: Jesus, all that from some dude meetin’ his time? Damn, woman. Okay, let’s go. (Takes body off stage) We’ll get outta here. I’m sorry. Really. Fuck it, rent can be late, ya know? They ain’t gonna kick us out. We’ve been late before. Nothin’s ever happened. (Pause) Come on, let’s go home then. (Pause) Let’s go make nasty.

DEBBIE: Jesus, you’ve got a one-track mind. You’re a sick fuck.

GARY: I don’t know. I’m sort of excited right now.

(He takes her hand and they exit; moments later Danny walks in and stands waiting)

DANNY: That looked like Gary and Debbie. Hello! Customer! (He grabs his crotch) Jesus, I gotta pee. (He stands waiting, but starts to move around, first shuffling a bit, then jumping around while still holding his crotch) Man, I can’t wait all day. I gotta go. The cigarettes can wait. (Looking around, he spies the restroom) There’s the can. I hope the person working here ain’t stinkin’ up the joint. (He moves behind the curtain; a knock is heard) Hello? Anyone in there? Ya got a customer and I gotta pee. Hello? (Knocks again) Huh, nobody in there. I wonder where everyone is.

(A police officer enters and looks around)

OFFICER (on radio): I’m at the location. It looks like there’s no one here.

DISPATCHER: One-Adam-Twelve. One-Adam-Twelve. Subject indicated a robbery in progress.

OFFICER: Betty, I’m not One-Adam-Twelve, and there’s nothing in progress. What subject?

DISPATCHER: See the man. See the man.

OFFICER (looking around): Betty, this is serious. What man?

DISPATCHER: See the man. See the man. See the man. One-Adam-Twelve. See the man. See the man.

OFFICER: Okay, I heard you. Hey, I think you need a break. I think you need to take a nice trip somewhere. Florida. Hawaii.

DISPATCHER: 5-Oh. 10-4. 5-Oh, Book ‘em, Dano.

OFFICER: Betty!

DISPATCHER: Breaker-breaker. See the man. See the man.

OFFICER: I do see him. Now. And he’s dead.

(He steps behind curtain on opposite side of stage from Danny)

DISPATCHER: All units, reported robbery now a murder. (Danny re-enters and looks around, still waiting for assistance) All units, reported robbery now a murder.

DANNY (whirling around): What the hell?

DISPATCHER: All units respond to murder scene.

DANNY: God, that had me goin’. I wonder when did they put video games in here?

DISPATCHER: All available units report to the 24-7 store at Seventh & Main.

DANNY: Lifelike game. That’s like the address here. I gotta play. Hello!? Could I get some quarters, please?

(He opens the curtain)

OFFICER (pointing gun at him): Hold it, freeze! Back off, buddy!

DANNY: Jesus, 3-D. (Beat) What the fuck?

OFFICER: You! Danny, what are you doing here?

DANNY: Do I know you?

OFFICER (pointing at his badge): I visited you recently.

DANNY: Oh, you’re that cop. You’re the police.

OFFICER: Yes, I am. Yes, I am. How did you get in and what are you doing here?

DANNY: Through the door and buying smokes, dude. This is the only place that sells those American Chief things. You know, more real tobacco. Less chemicals. Cheaper price. Can’t go wrong.

OFFICER: You can go wrong with murder.

DANNY: Duh.

OFFICER: What are you doing here?

DANNY: It’s a convenience store, ain’t it?

OFFICER: What do you want?

DANNY: A convenient place to shop. Isn’t that what everyone wants?

OFFICER: Don’t play games with me.

DANNY: Well, I was going to but nobody would give me quarters and you weren’t really a game, after all. It was your radio.

OFFICER: What?

DANNY: Nothin’

OFFICER: So answer my question. What do you want?

DANNY: Smokes, man. I am lookin’ for smokes. I’m havin’ a fuckin’ nico fit, dude. American Chiefs, if you got ‘em. Why would I lie? Are you moonlighting or somethin’? I thought you guys got paid pretty good. American Chiefs, please. A carton.

OFFICER: You may be interested to know I just reported a death.

DANNY: Yeah, I know. Smokin’ kills. Blah, blah, blah. So you shouldn’t sell ‘em if you don’t wanna sell ‘em, you know? My life.

OFFICER: I’m talking about a murder.

DANNY: Murder? Now, what are you talkin’ about?

OFFICER (shows him the body): A murder. It looks like a botched robbery, doesn’t it?

DANNY: Where’s the blood?

OFFICER: What blood?

DANNY: You think a robber’s gonna take the time to poison someone or something? They’re gonna blow his fuckin’ head off. Looks attached to me. I think ya got an old fart who farted his last. See, I ain’t no dummy. I need a smoke.

OFFICER: You may be right.

DANNY: Yeah, I’m right. I need a smoke.

OFFICER: There doesn’t appear to be any evidence of a struggle. Okay, take a pack, a carton, whatever. Leave the money on the counter. Then get out of here. But I’m going to keep my eye on you.

(Danny exits, then returns with a carton; he hands the police officer some money)

DANNY: Thanks, dude. You’re a lifesaver.

OFFICER: It’s my job.

(Danny exits; officer pockets the money)

OFFICER: Dispatch, we may have a natural death here.

DISPATCHER: All units, back off, back off. All units, ignore the request for backup at the convenience store. One-Adam-Twelve, One-Adam-Twelve, file a report. Do the paperwork.

OFFICER: Betty . . .

DISPATCHER: Dispatch out.

OFFICER: Betty . . .

DISPATCHER: Sgt. Friday, report to headquarters.

OFFICER: Who the hell is Sgt. Friday?

(Officer exits behind curtain; Mother and Stepfather enter opposite)

MOTHER: I wonder what they want.

STEPFATHER: My money, I’m sure.

MOTHER: Gary sounded rather agitated on the phone.

STEPFATHER: I don’t trust him.

MOTHER: That’s a terrible thing to say about your wife’s son. He is an honest, hard-working young man. I can think of worse professions than banking. It’s that girlfriend I don’t trust. I worry more about her brother, Danny than my own son. He seems to have no direction and no marketable skills. He’s been at that awful burger restaurant for two years now.

STEPFATHER: I wish your son would stop trying to adopt me as his father. I never had children because I have no love for children. I certainly don’t want to have any at my age. I hope they’re not coming here for a handout. That would be like a child.

MOTHER: Honey, please don’t presume such things.

STEPFATHER: You saw their place. They are not living in the best of circumstances for a man who is so important to the financial community.

(There is a knock at the door)

MOTHER (yelling): Jones! Jones, come here!

STEPFATHER: I would be willing to wager a fair portion of my estate that they are coming here solely for the purpose of begging for money.

MOTHER: Jones!

STEPFATHER: And you know how I feel about that.

MOTHER: Yes, dear. Jones!

JONES: Right here, madam. May I help you?

MOTHER: Someone is at the door. Could you see to it?

JONES: Yes, Ma’am. (Opening the door) Good evening. May I ask who is calling?

GARY: Gary, Debbie. My mother is expecting us.

JONES: She is expecting you?

GARY: Yeah.

JONES: And you say she is your mother?

GARY: Jones.

JONES: Wait here, please. (He steps over to Mother) Madam, there is a gentleman by the name of Gary at the door. He said that you were expecting him. He is with a woman by the name of Deborah.

DEBBIE: Debbie.

MOTHER: Yes, we are expecting them. Do let them in, Jones.

JONES: At once, madam. (Crosses to door) The missus will see you now.

GARY: Thanks, pal.

MOTHER: That will be all, Jones. Good evening, Gary. Deborah.

DEBBIE: Debbie.

MOTHER: I know who you are, Deborah. I said your name. I said hello.

DEBBIE: No, you . . .

MOTHER: Were you able to find the place okay?

DEBBIE: Yes.

GARY: We got lost twice. Found the Governor’s mansion, though. Nice digs.

MOTHER: Digs—what does that mean? You don’t call the Governor’s mansion digs. It is a very nice place.

DEBBIE: I’ve always wanted to see it.

MOTHER: Now you have. How about that?

GARY: Mother, Father, we’ve come to talk . . .

STEPFATHER: I am your stepfather. It has the word father in it, but the word step in front of it. Step-father.

GARY: Forgive me, Stepfather, for I have sinned.

DEBBIE (quietly, to Gary): Gary, be nice.

MOTHER: Wasn’t it just a gorgeous day today?

DEBBIE: Not really. We’ve had better.

GARY (quietly, to Debbie): You, too.

MOTHER: I thought it was delightful.

GARY: There’s no need to make small talk, Mother.

STEPFATHER: I’m afraid I must disagree with you there, boy.

GARY: I’m not your boy, Stepfather.

STEPFATHER: No, indeed. But I disagree with your previous statement. Almost all successfully concluded business transactions occur after many rounds of small talk and chitter-chatter. You are here on business, are you not? I find that my associates appreciate feeling as if I’m concerned when I ask about their wives and children.

GARY: I don’t have either.

DEBBIE (to Gary): Gary. (To Stepfather) Your memory must be pretty impressive.

STEPFATHER: Memory? I couldn’t tell you anything about any of them. My secretary researches and tracks their personal lives for me, then gives me a card with the details before any meeting.

MOTHER: It’s his system, his way of remembering things. Hire a secretary to function as your memory. It’s brilliant. It should be patented. You’re so smart, dear.

STEPFATHER: Like I really care that Jack So-And-So’s daughter graduated from high school? Or where she’s going to college? No, but if sending a card gets me a sale, then by God, I’ll send a card.

MOTHER: That’s good, dear.

STEPFATHER: Really, how the hell would I know when Mr. Goldstein’s little Daniel celebrated his Bar Mitzvah? Why the hell would I care? I’m a Christian. I don’t care. But if mentioning it seals a deal, then I’ll pretend I’m a rabbi for him.

DEBBIE (to Gary): Maybe we are in the right field—just the wrong targets.

STEPFATHER: Mr. Smith’s hag of a mother finally passed away? Well, the world’s better off if you want the truth. But I’ll send flowers and cry a crocodile tear if it keeps a client.

MOTHER: I think you’ve made your point, dear.

GARY: Speaking of which, Happy Birthday, Stepfather. I hope it was a good one.

STEPFATHER: I hate birthdays.

MOTHER: His secretary would have told you that.

STEPFATHER: So, what is it you want today?

GARY: We’re in a little trouble.

STEPFATHER (with a smile): Here it comes. How much money are you looking to steal from us?

GARY: Well, we weren’t looking to steal anything.

STEPFATHER: Let’s cut to the chase. How much do you want?

GARY: We’re short on rent this month.

STEPFATHER: How much is that?

MOTHER: Oh, Gary, how did that happen? Didn’t the bank pay you?

GARY: A little bit but not enough.

DEBBIE: Not nearly enough.

STEPFATHER: Listen, we generally only give handouts when the handouts do something for us, such as garner us good publicity. That’s good for business. Giving you rent money won’t bring in more money.

DEBBIE: I knew we shouldn’t have come here.

GARY: You don’t understand.

STEPFATHER: No, Gary, you don’t understand. I’m trying to teach you about money so that some day you may know how to handle it.

MOTHER: I don’t think he was asking for financial lessons, dear.

GARY: No, I didn’t come here to be lectured to.

STEPFATHER: Tough. If you want the notes you have to listen to the tune. Let me tell you, philanthropy serves a number of functions. First and foremost, it is used for tax breaks. A man doesn’t receive a tax break for giving or loaning money to a stepson.

GARY: You’re right. Forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.

STEPFATHER: Second, it serves as advertising. It could easily be part of an advertising budget when papers report a gift of $100,000 to a deserving organization. Giving a couple hundred dollars to a man who can’t budget his own money is not good advertising. If it was reported in the media it would send the wrong message. Don’t you agree?

GARY: Never mind. I don’t need . . .

STEPFATHER: Third, all good philanthropy is selfish.

MOTHER: Jones!

STEPFATHER: If I like the arts and can afford to throw a few million dollars at it, it will make my experience at the opera, dance and theater better, and likely with premium seats and productions that I count among my favorites.

MOTHER: I need you upstairs.

STEPFATHER: If I am worried about my health and can donate several million to a hospital you can bet I’m going to get top-rate medical care when my time comes for it. If I like sports I can get my name on a building and be as important as the players. Not to mention the publicity. The public will want to support my other businesses and endeavors. Those kinds of benefits aren’t given to the man who throws money to the dogs.

GARY: Never mind. We don’t want it.

STEPFATHER: Fourth, and this may be the most important of all . . .

DEBBIE: You stupid old fuck, he said he don’t want it!

(Long silence)

MOTHER: Doesn’t, Deborah. He doesn’t want it.

(Pause)

DEBBIE: Debbie, you bitch, Debbie. My name is Debbie, not Deborah.

(Long silence)

MOTHER: Well, that was an awkward moment, wasn’t it? Listen, I had the cook make some shortbread today. Would you like some?

GARY: No, Ma, I think we should be goin’.

MOTHER: So soon? You just got here. We haven’t had time to enjoy each other’s company.

GARY: It’s time. We should go.

STEPFATHER: How much do you want? I’ll get my checkbook.

GARY: Forget it, really.

STEPFATHER: No, I mean it. I appreciate your balls. It’s too bad they’re connected to your girlfriend. But really, my subordinates never have the courage to yell at me and actually say what’s on their minds.

GARY: I mean it, too. I don’t wanna sell my dignity.

STEPFATHER: You can’t conduct business that way.

GARY: Yes, I can. Some things are more important.

STEPFATHER: I disagree. You already lost your dignity when you came crawling here for money. You can’t live your life on principles. The business world doesn’t work that way.

DEBBIE: You old . . .

GARY: He’s right, Debbie. It was a mistake to come here.

MOTHER: Oh, Gary, it was not. You’re being a bit melodramatic. You got to see the Governor’s mansion, didn’t you?

DEBBIE: Yes, and that was certainly the highlight of my day.

MOTHER: Are you sure you can’t stay for shortbread? Let’s talk a little. Oh, I almost forgot. I thought I saw you two on T. V. the other day.

DEBBIE (terrified): What?

MOTHER: Yes.

GARY: Mother, that can’t be.

MOTHER: I said thought. I would have been mortified if I was certain.

DEBBIE: It couldn’t have been us. Gary, we’ve never been on T. V., have we?

GARY: Not recently. There was that one interview . . .

DEBBIE: Shhh.

MOTHER (laughing): You two. It’s not like it was on America’s Most Wanted or something.

GARY and STEPFATHER: It wasn’t?

MOTHER: No, it was on a rerun of that awful Jerry Springer show. You know, the one where those awful white trash people always beat each other up.

STEPFATHER: That show reminds me of the Roman Coliseum, where the strong men of the lower classes were thrown together to fight to the death for the enjoyment of others.

MOTHER: This was even worse than usual. There was a young couple talking about S & M fantasies. You know, tying each other up, whips, that kind of thing. It was disgusting.

GARY: You saw that show?

MOTHER: Yes. You’ve seen it? Well, they had the couple in shadow and their voices altered, but you know a mother’s instincts. I was certain it was you, Gary.

GARY: You recognized me in that show?

MOTHER: No, I said I thought it was you. But then the man mentioned a surfboard tattoo in a very strange place and I thought, well, I diapered that boy and that’s not true, so I knew it wasn’t you.

GARY: Of course, it couldn’ta been us. We’ll be goin’ now.

MOTHER: Gary, your stepfather doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. He’ll give you the money if you need it.

DEBBIE: No thanks, we’ll figure it out.

MOTHER: Well, if you change your mind, do it quickly. We’re leaving for a Hawaiian vacation in just a few hours. We’re going to be gone for three weeks.

GARY: Thanks, Ma.

MOTHER: You’re welcome. Do come again. Now that you know where we live.

GARY: Sure.

MOTHER: We’ll have you over for dinner and some laughs one night.

GARY: Sure. Good night. (To Debbie) Let’s go, Babe.

(Gary and Debbie exit)

MOTHER: I do hope they don’t get evicted.

STEPFATHER: It would be through no fault but their own. You can’t afford to maintain that kind of dignity in the face of shame.

MOTHER: No, I guess you can’t. Let’s see if the cook has finished preparing the evening meal. Jones, would you Lysol the chairs, please.

(They exit; Gary and Debbie enter, walking)

GARY: What the hell we gonna do?

DEBBIE: Well, I think we should do a suicide pact. That’ll show ‘em.

GARY: Seriously. God, we shoulda taken the money.

DEBBIE: No. You were right to tell him to screw off. You don’t want money under the kinds of conditions he’d impose.

GARY: I guess not.

(A man enters opposite, walking toward them; as he approaches, Gary pulls his gun)

DEBBIE: We should quit, before we got caught.

GARY: Yeah, but it’s such a rush. (Pointing the gun at the man) You, gimme your money. Now.

MAN: I don’t have anything. A dollar, maybe. This park is my home. I was coming to ask you for a handout.

DEBBIE: Prove it. Let’s see your wallet.

MAN: I don’t own one. I don’t own anything. I carry all my money in my front pocket. (Taking it out) Here. It’s everything. A dollar and a dime and two bus tokens.

GARY: Jesus.

MAN: Take the money if you want. But, please, I need the bus tokens to get to the shelter meal tomorrow.

GARY: Get outta here. Jesus, I’m sorry. Go on.

(He crosses away from them)

DEBBIE: Gary, that could be us.

GARY: Nah, it couldn’t be. We’re too good.

(Another man enters, walking toward them; Gary pulls his gun again)

GARY: Freeze it, Mister. Gimme your money, ya hear?

SECOND MAN: What is going on here?

GARY: What d’ya think? This is a mugging. Welcome to the city.

SECOND MAN: I’m sorry. I’ll give you what I have, but I carry very little money on my person. Please don’t hurt me. Could I write you a check?

GARY: Whatd’ya think? We’re stupid?

SECOND MAN: No, no, of course not. I just don’t want to get hurt. I’m not stupid either. I’m trying to cooperate with you.

DEBBIE: Then get your wallet out. Slow-like.

SECOND MAN (handing her the wallet): Here. Take it. Could you leave me the I. D.?

DEBBIE (counting): There’s more than eight hundred dollars in here!

GARY: Gold strike. Why’dya lie to us?

SECOND MAN: I didn’t lie. I’m trying to cooperate.

DEBBIE: You said there was no money.

SECOND MAN: No, I said I carry very little.

GARY: That’s very little?

SECOND MAN: Maybe not to you. I’m a banker.

DEBBIE (handing him the wallet): Here ya go. Tell you what. I took what we need for rent. You take that last C-note over to that guy on the bench there and give it to him. He needs it more’n you or us. All right? And we’ll have the gun on your back until we see it’s done and he’s gone. Okay? Got that?

SECOND MAN: Sure, whatever you say. (He crosses; as he’s exiting he looks inside his wallet). It’s a horrible life.

GARY: You’re so goddam generous.

DEBBIE: Not really. It’s just good advertising.

GARY: You’re so goddam hot.

DEBBIE: Like I said, good advertising.

GARY: You know, usin’ the gun always gets my gun goin’. It’s such a rush.

DEBBIE: What’re ya sayin’, Gary?

GARY: I’m sayin’ I wanna do ya, Baby. I’m sayin’ we should get the fuck home ‘cause we got some boinkin’ to do. We gotta celebrate our windfall.

DEBBIE: Sounds fun. How ‘bout you play cop today, all right?

GARY: Sure, baby, whatever trips your trigger. You know your old man’s about doin’ you right.

DEBBIE: But you know what? We don’t hafta go home. This is a public park.

GARY: You sayin’ ya wanna do it here?

DEBBIE: Well, no not right here on the sidewalk, but there’s bushes.

GARY: I like bushes.

DEBBIE: Okay, here’s the deal. I’m a hooker. You been watchin’ me cruisin’ the park and so you gotta bust me.

GARY: The handcuffs are at home.

DEBBIE (taking rope from her bag): Here, take the rope. We can pretend the cop lost his handcuffs, so he had to improvise.

GARY: Cool, man.

DEBBIE: Quick, someone’s comin’.

(He crosses and stops and watches her for a bit; a man enters and stops near Debbie)

THIRD MAN: Afternoon.

DEBBIE: Hello. What’s goin’ on?

THIRD MAN: Nothing much. Just out for a walk.

DEBBIE: Are you looking for a good time?

THIRD MAN: Yes, I came to feed the pigeons.

DEBBIE: Are you looking for some company?

THIRD MAN: Yes, they keep me company. I talk to them and sometimes their little coos and gurgles sound like they’re answering me.

DEBBIE: I meant are you looking for female companionship?

THIRD MAN: Oh, no. They get angry if I bring anyone with me. It interferes with the telepathic communication. You see, there’s too many voices then. That one extra can destroy everything.

DEBBIE (signalling for Gary to come over): I see. That’s interesting.

THIRD MAN: They told me yesterday that great changes are coming. They said to be prepared.

DEBBIE: Prepared?

THIRD MAN: Yes, be prepared. It’s deep.

DEBBIE (still signalling Gary): Deep, uh-uh. The Boy Scout motto is deep. That’s interesting.

THIRD MAN: Sometimes the pigeons know more than anyone, even the dogs.

(Gary finally crosses; he holds his gun on the man)

GARY: Okay, don’t move. I’m the cops. What’re ya doin’ here, Mister.

THIRD MAN: I come to feed the birds.

GARY: That’s what I thought. Well, Mister, prostitution is illegal in this city. I’m gonna arrest this woman.

THIRD MAN: There’s a lot of birds.

GARY: Yeah, maybe we can’t arrest them all, but we do our best.

THIRD MAN: I’m going to go find my friends.

GARY: That’s right. I’ll let you go this time. It’s her I want. Okay, Miss, you’re under arrest.

THIRD MAN: Be prepared. Change is coming.

(Man walks away; Gary ties Debbie’s hands)

GARY: Okay, lady, you’re busted. Your ass is mine.

DEBBIE: Oh, please, don’t take me to jail. I’ll do anything.

GARY: Anything?

DEBBIE: Anything.

GARY: Then fuck me in the bushes. Let’s go. I’m gonna be like a gardener planting bush seeds.

(Debbie gets up; the rope falls)

DEBBIE: Jesus Christ. First a crazy man who doesn’t recognize a proposition. Then a gardener who doesn’t know what to do with a ‘ho’.

GARY: Oh, man. I had that sucker tied tight.

DEBBIE: Like a noose on a pencil. Jesus, you make a fantasy tough.

GARY: Well, sometimes you make life tough.

DEBBIE: That was cruel. We’re not playing Mr. Sadist right now, honey.

GARY: Sorry, I didn’t mean nothin . . .

DEBBIE: Let’s go home.

GARY: Oh, man I’m sorry, let’s try again.

DEBBIE: No, I’m not gonna have another conversation like the one I just had with that birdbrained old man.

GARY: You know I didn’t mean anything.

DEBBIE: I know. Let’s go home, pay the rent, and fuck the night away the old-fashioned way. Okay? Is that okay?

GARY: You know, sometimes I think you don’t like these fantasies. Sometimes I think you just like the cuddlin’ and shit and you play along for a bit just to get me goin’, you know, and then you shift gears and make me do the missionary.

DEBBIE: You got a problem with an old-fashioned lay?

GARY: No, that’s not what I was . . .

DEBBIE: Then let’s go, Occifer. It’s time to take it home.

(They exit; Danny enters and turns on the T. V.)

ANNOUNCER 2: Little Jiggles can be yours by calling Adopt-A-Pet right away. Now, here’s a picture of an adorable pit bull. Roscoe had to be removed from his owner’s home after an unfortunate incident with one of the children.

DANNY: He’s cute. I wanna dog.

ANNOUNCER 2: Roscoe would make a great watchdog. Call Adopt-A-Pet now if you want to take in one of the most popular of today’s breeds.

(A knock at the door; Danny turns off the T. V.)

DANNY: It’s open.

OFFICER (entering): Good afternoon, Danny. Thanks for calling. I’m glad you’re finally ready to cooperate.

DANNY: Well, like you said. You already know everything, so I migh’s well get the reward, huh?

OFFICER: We do know everything, except where we can find them. Can you tell us that?

DANNY: Yeah, they live upstairs.

OFFICER: Upstairs? Here? In this building?

DANNY: Yeah. 302. Where’s my money?

OFFICER: Danny, you don’t listen very well. You don’t qualify for any money unless and until there has been an arrest and conviction. Once that happens the reward panel looks at how much your information helped and then determines the reward amount, if any.

DANNY: If any! You mean I couldn’t get nothin’ outta this? I mighta turned in my sister for nothin’?

OFFICER: For nothing? Even without the reward you did the right thing, Danny. Criminals belong behind bars, where they can’t prey on others.

DANNY: But the T. V. said . . .

ANNOUNCER: There’s no money involved.

OFFICER: The T. V. said you may qualify for a reward, if the information you provide leads to an arrest and conviction.

DANNY: I need it now. I can’t help them with the rent if I don’t get the money now.

OFFICER: Danny, I really don’t think they’ll be needing rent money for a while, if you know what I mean.

ANNOUNCER: Please give them a good home.

OFFICER: I’m going to go pay them a little visit.

DANNY: They’re ain’t in. I was just up there. No more’n five minutes ago.

OFFICER: Well, I’ll see for myself.

(He exits, with Danny following; they re-enter and stop; Officer knocks)

DANNY: I told ya they wasn’t home, and they’re not.

OFFICER (knocking): I’m double-checking. It’s my job. I’m just doing my job.

DANNY: Well, they’re not home. Get out.

OFFICER: It doesn’t appear they are. Well, I’ll be back. With a search warrant. Thank you for help, Danny.

(He exits; Danny slumps to the floor)

DANNY: Oh, she gonna fuckin’ kill me. I’m dead meat. What the hell did I do? I am a Judas Priest. I’m a stupid fuck. Hey, Debbie, Danny here. Just thought I’d let ya know the cops are gonna be bustin’ ya ‘cause I told ‘em you robbed that bank. Told ‘em that was you an’ Gary on the T. V. Yeah, yeah I did. Yeah, I gave ‘em your names ‘cause, you know, they couldn’ bust no one without knowin’ who they are, ya know. Oh, yeah, then I, then I told ‘em where you live ‘cause, you know, they had to know where to find ya for the arrest. (Pause) Fuck. I should kill myself. I can’t do nothin’ right. Prob’ly couldn’t kill myself right either. Well, I know I can’t. Like that one time when I was all drunk and really wanted to do it and I swallowed a whole shitload a pills. Just no one told me there was penicillin in the cabinet. Fuckin’ din’t get sick for months. Jesus, I’m a dick. Dickhead. Dickhead Danny. All I wanted to do was help ‘em out with the rent ‘cause I knew they weren’t doin’ so hot and here I am sittin’ outside their apartment ‘cause I can’t do nothin’. Can’t even fuckin’ kill myself.

(Gary and Debbie enter)
GARY: Danny boy, whatchu doin’ on the floor outside our apartment?

DANNY: Man, I don’t . . . Well, I was waitin’ for ya to come home, ya know. I was just waitin’ to see ya.

DEBBIE: Danny, we got some personal business to take care of. See you later.

DANNY: I need to talk with ya.

GARY: Later, dude. My monster’s revved up, if you know what I mean. We gotta go. (As they cross) Let’s go hit the showers, Babe.

(They exit)

DANNY: Can’t blame him. Maybe it’ll be the last time his monster sees any action. Can’t fault him that. They might be sittin’ in separate prisons pretty soon and won’t be able to do it at all. Ah, Jesus, he’s gotta get rid of that fuckin’ surfboard before Joe Cop comes back. Wow, she looks different. Ah cripes. I think I’m gonna go kill myself.

(He exits; Officer enters)

OFFICER (on radio): Dispatch, I’m in position. I’ve got the warrant. I’m going in for the arrest.

DISPATCHER: One-Adam-Twelve. One-Adam-Twelve. Seize the man. Seize the woman.

OFFICER: Betty, I’m not . . .

DISPATCHER: One-Adam-Twelve, you’re copied. Over and out.

OFFICER: All right, Betty, I’m going up.

ANNOUNCER: Dr. Quincy, report to the coroner’s office immediately.

(He exits; Danny enters; turns on the T. V.)

DANNY: Fuckin’ surfboard on his ass.

ANNOUNCER: So, Squiggles the bunny can be yours for free. Just call now.

DANNY: I wonder if they really do fuck like rabbits.

ANNOUNCER: Have you ever dreamed of owning a turtle? Buster can be yours if you simply promise to give him a good home.

DANNY: Damn, those things are weird. (There is a knock at the door; Danny turns off the T. V.) ‘S’open.

GARY (entering): Sorry, man. We’re done now. What’s up?

DANNY: Where’s Debbie?

GARY: She’s comin’.

DANNY: You’re done already?

GARY: Well, I am. She’s comin’. I’m sure she’ll be here in a minute.

DANNY: But I was just up there.

GARY: Danny, this is personal shit. You don’t need ta know.

DANNY: Just curious, man.

(Debbie enters)

GARY: Well, I’ll tell you, the deal is this. Your sister got my gun all goin’ way back at the park and she was talkin’ up a mean lay all the way home, so like as soon as we got the big fucker out of its holster I pulled the trigger and shot. It happens sometimes, ya know?

DANNY: No.

DEBBIE: None of us need to be hearin’ this shit.

GARY: I was just tellin’ ‘im . . .

DEBBIE: Yeah, I know, I heard. (To Danny) So he tells ya all the intimate details of our life, does he?

DANNY: No.

DEBBIE: Well, that’s ‘cause there’s not much to tell.

GARY: So what’s up, Danny? Why were ya waitin’ for us to get home.

DANNY: I got some bad news, dudes.

DEBBIE: What?

DANNY: Don’t be mad.

DEBBIE: How can I be mad before ya told us what’s up?

GARY: Spill it.

DANNY: Well, I was tryin’ to help ya out, ya know? An’ every time I try to help someone out somethin’ happens which doesn’t help anyone, if you follow. So I thought I could get some money to help ya with the rent, ‘cause I know you been hurtin’.

GARY: We got the rent money today. Ya don’t need to worry about it.

DANNY: No, you need to worry.

DEBBIE: What?

DANNY: What d’ya mean what?

DEBBIE: What? What’re ya gettin’ at?

ANNOUNCER: This canary really knows how to sing.

DANNY: The cops know you’re the robbers.

DEBBIE: What?

GARY: Oh, God, we’re busted. We’re done. We’re toast.

DEBBIE: And what is that gotta do with you tryin’ to help us?

GARY: Yeah. Where does that come in?

DANNY: Well, ya see, I saw that show, that one where they told about the surfboard on your ass.

GARY: The Jerry Springer rerun?

DANNY: No, no. The County’s Most Wanted thing. Jerry Springer? Well, they said there was a thousand dollar reward.

DEBBIE: You turned us in for the thousand bucks? You fuckin’ bastard.

DANNY: No, they won’t give me nothin’. I thought I could just tell them a couple things and get the money, but they fooled me into givin’ more. The more I gave ‘em they less they gave me. I still haven’t collected a thing. They really tricked me.

DEBBIE: Boy, I’ll bet that was a tough thing to do. Danny, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya.

GARY: Hey, baby, we got more important things to do. Like get away from the cops. We can deal with him later.

ANNOUNCER: Take a look at this white rat.

DEBBIE: What’re we gonna do? Seriously, what’re we gonna do? Danny, you got ‘ny bright ideas? Any thoughts on what the hell we’re gonna do? ‘Cause I’m at a loss. I can’t think. Because I’m still a little dumbfounded at your stupidity.

DANNY: I dunno. Jesus. Run.

DEBBIE: Gee, thanks for the advice. Are you a track coach now, too?

DANNY: No, I don’t know nothin’ about track.

GARY: Danny, she didn’t mean . . . Jesus, you’re just brilliant sometimes.

DANNY: Thanks, Gary. But I feel sorta stupid right now.

DEBBIE: I feel sort of unhappy right now.

GARY: Yeah, well, none of us are too happy. We gotta stay calm.

DEBBIE: We gotta figure somethin’ out.

GARY: Wait, I got an idea.

DANNY: Gary’s got an idea.

DEBBIE: I heard. I hope it’s as . . . Never mind. I’ll wait to hear it.

GARY: My Mom’s.

DEBBIE: Your Mom’s what?

GARY: My Mom’s house. Don’t you remember? They said they were leaving on vacation right away. To Hawaii. For three weeks. We hide out there in the rich neighborhood where the police are there to really serve and protect.

DEBBIE: Then what? What about when they get home?

GARY: We got three weeks to think about it.

DANNY: Gary, you got a key? How you gonna get in?

GARY: We’ll break in. We know how.

DANNY: You’re gonna break into a place, Gary?

GARY: Yeah, you see a problem with that?

DANNY: Aren’t you in enough trouble?

DEBBIE: No, Danny, we figure if we’re already in trouble we might as well make it big time. Ya know, if you’re gonna go to jail it might as well be for the big time. Maybe we’ll murder a couple people too, to make it really worth it. Maybe we’ll start with you. Maybe that’d be a great idea. Don’t you think?

DANNY: Yeah, I think.

DEBBIE: No ya don’t. Or we wouldn’t be in this jam.

DANNY: Well you wouldn’t be in this jam if you didn’t rob places neither.

DEBBIE: Don’t you be moralizing on us, Mr. Moron. You think you’re so high and mighty with your job at that fast food burger joint.

DANNY: It’s a job.

GARY: No, it’s not. I worked there once. For three days. How I lasted that long I’ll never know. They treat ya like shit. They give you no hours and no money and a meager food ration every day so’s it feels like you’re in prison, and then they turn around and tell ya you’re the most important person in the world.

DANNY: Well, it’s nice to hear that sometimes.

GARY: Yeah, but it’s only words. Words don’t mean shit if they’re not backed up with reality. They treat ya like shit so their words mean nothin’. That’s that. You deserve better, Danny. You deserve better.

DANNY: Like I said, it’s a job.

GARY: Like I said, no, it ain’t. Man, I woke up one morning and put that stupid-ass ugly-brown polyester prison outfit on and looked at myself in the mirror. And ya know what I did? I called in and said hey, I’m lookin’ at myself in the mirror and I can’t do this any more. I’m better than this. I’m better than you. Then I took my life in my own hands. You should too.

DANNY: Maybe I will. You’ll see. Maybe I will.

DEBBIE: Yeah, well, in the meantime, folks, we shouldn’t be doin’ a sit-down. We should be headin’ out the drive-through and gettin’ outta here. I think you’re right, Gary. I think we should stay at your mother’s place for a bit.

DANNY: But how ya gonna break in?

GARY: Through a window, I don’t know.

DANNY: Duh, he owns a security place. You break a window and the cops’ll be there in seconds.

GARY: Shit.

DEBBIE: No, they won’t.

DANNY: I think so.

DEBBIE: They never installed an alarm system. They told us that when they were visiting. Remember?

GARY: Yeah, the old bastard thought he didn’t need it. Danny, we gotta go. Do me a favor. When you’re sure the coast is clear and there’s no cops anywhere around our apartment, go up and get our two bags. They got our guns and money and rope and stuff. Bring ‘em to us. We’ll need ‘em.

DANNY: Sure, dude. Whatever I can do to help.

GARY: We’re outta here.

DANNY: Bye. Sorry.

DEBBIE: Yeah, I know. Forget it. Life happens in weird ways.

(They exit; Danny turns the T. V. on)

ANNOUNCER 2: Ginger and Spice. They’re really nice. A dog and cat that have to be given away as a pair. If you like Ginger and Spice, please call right away.

DANNY: I like Ginger and Mary Ann.

ANNOUNCER: Here’s a basset hound that is just irresistible. Pomeroy is gentle and kind with big floppy ears. To claim him as your own, call now.

DANNY: Dude’s got no legs. What good’s a dog with no legs?

ANNOUNCER: That’s it for today’s Adopt-A-Pet program. Tune in tomorrow for more pets that you can adopt. Please stay tuned for today’s broadcast of The County’s Most Wanted.

DANNY (turning off the T. V.): No! Never again. Fuckin’ lies in advertising, man. I gotta go. I gotta get Gary and Debbie’s stuff and get it to them.

(He exits; Mother and Stepfather enter opposite)

STEPFATHER: Damn that airline.

MOTHER: They can’t help it if the weather is bad. Flights get cancelled all the time. I’m just glad we thought to call and ask before we left for the airport.

STEPFATHER: Damn. I was looking forward to this vacation.

MOTHER: They said it was rescheduled for tomorrow. We can add one day on to the end of the trip. It will all work out, I’m sure. Jones! Jones!

STEPFATHER: I should buy the airline and fire the person who made that decision.

MOTHER: Jones!

JONES: Yes, Ma’am. I am here.

MOTHER: Be a dear and do me a favor. Let the limousine driver know that our flight was canceled and that we will not need his services today. We will call and let him know when we are ready to leave.

JONES: Yes, Madam. Immediately.

(He exits)

MOTHER: Everything will be just fine. Oh, look at this mess here. The maid left a bucket and a pile of rags on the floor.

STEPFATHER: Sure, she thought we were going to be gone and wouldn’t notice. I will fire her as soon as we return.

MOTHER: No need to be so draconian, dear. I’ll talk with her about picking up after herself. Why don’t we retire for the evening? That way we’ll be rested up for the flight tomorrow.

STEPFATHER: Presuming the weather is better tomorrow.

MOTHER: Tomorrow will be brighter, I’m sure.

(They start to exit when a loud crash of breaking glass is heard)

STEPFATHER: What the hell?

MOTHER: I think it’s a break-in.

STEPFATHER: Impossible. That can’t happen to us.

MOTHER: Someone’s coming. Hide.

(They duck behind the curtains; Gary and Debbie enter)

GARY: I can’t believe your fuckin’ brother narced on us.

DEBBIE: He’s not a narc. He’s an idiot.

GARY: Well, either way. He told the cops that we were the ones who robbed that bank. Now they know, and now we gotta be on the run ‘cause a him. It’d be bad enough if we scored big on it and had some money to get outta town, but we got what, seventy dollars?

DEBBIE: Yeah, seventy dollars.

GARY: We need more money.

DEBBIE: Big time.

GARY: You know what? We got a couple weeks here while they’re on vacation. I bet there’s money hidden in the house. We got a couple weeks to find it, and maybe to pawn some of the art and shit.

DEBBIE: How did it happen that your mother got to be so rich while we can barely make it? How’d that happen? Life is unfair.

GARY: She put on a good act, raised herself above her class, fell in love with the most lovable and adorable man on the earth—yuk, yuk—and then married his money. It’s done all the time. I think it’s less work to rob a convenience store.

DEBBIE: Well, I still think she’s a stupid bitch and he’s an arrogant bastard, that’s what I think.

GARY: Hey, if we can get some money from them, what the hell? Who cares what they are.

DEBBIE: They certainly won’t give it to us. You heard that. We have to steal it.

GARY: Or get it from the will. I’m her only son, ya know. If they both happened to die in a plane crash tonight I’d prob’ly inherit the whole fuckin’ shebang.

DEBBIE: Fuck ‘em. Let the plane crash.

STEPFATHER (stepping out from behind the curtain): So you changed your mind about the money? You decided to come back after all?

GARY: Jesus Christ, what are you doin’ here?

MOTHER (stepping out from the curtain): Our flight was canceled, Gary.

GARY: Yeah, we came crawling back to ask ya again for the money.

STEPFATHER: How did you get in to the house?

GARY: Uh, that Jones guy, he remembered us from the other night. He let us in.

STEPFATHER: I didn’t hear the doorbell.

GARY: Oh, we knocked, lightly. He musta been standin’ right next to it. Didn’t wanna wake ya, ya know.

STEPFATHER: We thought we heard glass breaking.

GARY: Oh, that . . . that . . .

DEBBIE: That was our car door. I guess I slammed it too hard.

STEPFATHER: Darling, didn’t we just send Jones the other way? Where is he?

MOTHER: Oh, stop playing games. Gary, we heard you. I heard you. I heard you say some nasty things about me and about your father.

GARY: Stepfather.

STEPFATHER: We’re going to call the police.

GARY: Oh, no you’re not.

MOTHER: Gary, we heard you say you robbed banks and convenience stores. We know you just broke into our house. But the worst of all was the horrible things you said about the two of us. I could forgive a lot, but not that.

(Danny enters)

DANNY: Hey, the door was open. They’re here? What the hell?

DEBBIE: Their fuckin’ flight was canceled.

(Gary crosses to him and takes the bags; he gets the guns out and hands one to Debbie)

GARY: Okay, Mother, Stepfather. Get down on your knees. Now.

MOTHER: Gary, you wouldn’t do anything to hurt your mother.

DEBBIE: Maybe he wouldn’t. Do as he says.

DANNY: Hey, Gary. Robbery is one thing, ya know, but murder, that would suck. Those guys in prison would be ridin’ your surfboard the rest of your life.

GARY: I’m not talkin’ about murder, Danny. I just need time to think. We need them secure for now. So Danny, take the ropes outta the bag and tie the two of them up for me. Ya said you’d do anything to help out. You got us into this mess.

(Danny starts to tie them)

MOTHER: Please don’t, Danny. We’ve always liked you. You’re in our will.

DANNY: Really, I’m not even related. That’s very nice.

MOTHER: Well, we always felt so sorry for you.

STEPFATHER: You always seemed so pathetic to us.

DANNY: You’re much too kind.

MOTHER: Really, Danny, we like you. You shouldn’t involve yourself in this mess.

DANNY: Pathetic? You call me pathetic? You’re the ones that own a poodle. And you have the nerve to call me pathetic?

STEPFATHER: It’s simply an observation of the truth. You live in a dive of an apartment and you obviously have no future. I wouldn’t have put you in the will for those reasons, but I have no children and Gary’s mother insisted upon it because she figured you’d end up living in the sewer.

DANNY: You know what? I don’t wanna listen to this shit anymore.

(He grabs the rags from the floor and puts one in Stepfather’s mouth; he reaches for the second one)

MOTHER: Danny, don’t do that. The maid left them there.

DEBBIE: So, what? She has to pick them up? The maid. Must be nice.

MOTHER (as he’s putting the rag in her mouth): No, it’s just that there’s ammonia, or some kind of, some kind of cleaning . . . solution. It’s probably not healthy to breathe . . .

(The rag is in her mouth; she keeps trying to talk through it, but is unintelligible)

GARY: Thanks, Danny. I couldn’t take that anymore. I gotta think.

DEBBIE: So, what do we do now? We just became kidnappers on top of everything else. Danny, you too. Now if ya narc on us ya gotta narc on you too.

DANNY: We’re not kidnappers. We didn’t take them nowhere. We just tied them up.

GARY: So maybe he’s got a point. Maybe they can call it hostage-taking or somethin’.

DEBBIE: At any rate, Danny, you’re now a member of the gang.

DANNY: Gang?

DEBBIE: Yeah, us. We’re bad.

(Stepfather drops over)

DANNY: I’m sorta surprised they put me in the will. I wonder what they gave me. Prob’ly one of those pieces of shit artwork.

GARY: Well, Danny, I have a feeling that after tonight they might write ya back outta the will.

DANNY: Can they do that?

GARY: Yeah.

DANNY: Fuckers.

GARY: Yeah.

(Mother drops over)

DANNY: Jeez, they musta been really tired. Both just zonked out like that. Dead as a light.

GARY: Hey, don’t be sleepin’ on us. We may need ya ta tell us where some money is.

DEBBIE: Something’s weird.

GARY: Hey, wake up, asshole and assholette! It’s time for your flight to leave.

DEBBIE: Gary, I think their flight mighta left already.

DANNY: No, they said it was canceled.

DEBBIE: Danny, that’s not what I’m sayin’.

GARY (crosses to the bodies and checks their pulses): Fuck.

DEBBIE: Well?

GARY: Fuck. Fuckin’ . . .

DEBBIE: No.

GARY: Fuck.

DEBBIE: Yes.

DANNY: What’re ya fuckin’ about?

DEBBIE: They’re dead, Danny. Now we’re all murderers too.

DANNY: No way.

GARY: Way. I don’t know what was on those rags, but it’s pretty strong. It could kill a horse. Prob’ly suffocated them. Shit.

DEBBIE: Okay, what d’we do know?

GARY: Find some money and get the fuck outta here. Everybody go check a different room. Now.

(All three exit; Officer enters)

DANNY (yelling, from off stage): Hey, you guys, come ‘ere. Quick. Come ‘ere.

(Officer ducks behind curtain as all three re-enter)

GARY: What? You found bucks?

DANNY: No, I found the will. Listen to this. Quote, Being of sound mind and body, blah, blah, blah, and being as our son, Gary—he called you son—holds a responsible position and earns a good living, all of our money, in the event that both of us die, is to be given to—me—can you believe it? They marked it all for me.

GARY: That fuckin’ bitch.

DEBBIE: Bastard.

(Officer steps out from curtain with his gun drawn)

OFFICER: Okay, I think I’ve heard enough. I finally found you two and it also looks like I walked in on a kidnapping and murder. And here you are, Danny, with a will in your hand talking about your profits from this whole messy affair. It doesn’t look good.

GARY: Ah, Jesus fuck. I’d like today to go away. God, are you listening to me? Can you please take today back and start it over again? This fuckin’ sucks.

OFFICER: It does for you. (To Debbie) And you. (To Danny) And you.

DANNY: Whatd’ya mean?

OFFICER: I mean you’re about to be arrested for murder. The three of you.

DANNY: Hey, I ain’t no dummy. I thought you knew that already. We got here right before you and found these bodies laying here.

DEBBIE: Yeah, it was already done. We were just about to call the cops.

OFFICER: I believe that.

DANNY: Well, you can’t bust us on circumstantial stuff, I know that. Just ‘cause you walked in and we’re standin’ here and I got a will in my hand doesn’t mean we did a thing. I wanted to get the will right away to make sure whoever did this terrible thing wasn’t tryin’ to get the thing and change it to their name or somethin’.

OFFICER: Who’s going to believe that?

DANNY: You.

OFFICER: I know better.

DANNY: I got a deal to make ya.

DEBBIE: Danny, don’t push it. Let’s just call a lawyer and hope for the best.

OFFICER: Your sister’s right, Danny. You’re in no position to try to be cutting deals with anyone.

DANNY: Okay, how’s this? How would you like to be at the same prison that we’re at? You know how often people accidentally die in prison?

OFFICER: You’re crazy, kid. Let’s go downtown.

DANNY: Maybe you didn’t know this, but that day we met in the store I came back in to say somethin’ to ya and I saw you takin’ the money from my carton of cigarettes and pocketing it.

GARY: You’re fuckin’ kiddin’.

DANNY: Nope.

OFFICER: You can’t prove such a charge.

DANNY: Yeah, I can. And the prisoners will want your cop ass so bad they’ll forget all about Gary’s surfboard.

OFFICER: Impossible.

DANNY: Ya see, I did come back in and while you were back with the body I took the fuckin’ security camera off the wall. Ya mighta noticed the place didn’t have a security camera.

OFFICER: I thought it was strange they didn’t have a camera there.

DEBBIE: So you admit it?

OFFICER: No. You know what? That camera will also show who murdered that poor old man. If this idiot produces the camera you two will get even more years.

GARY: More years than what? You don’t have a thing on us. You got Danny’s word about the bank job and I’m somehow thinkin’ that he’s maybe not gonna recall talkin’ to ya about it. Ya got no camera on the store. Ya got two bodies in circumstantial circumstances here. What’dyou got? A zero, that’s what.

DANNY: And ya know what? Somehow, everything before the pocketing of the money got erased from that tape. I can’t explain it. Mysterious, if ya ask me.

OFFICER: What do you want? What’s your deal?

DANNY: I think I want ya to quit the force. I think I wanna take my newfound wealth and hire my sister and her guy to hang out with me here in my new house. I think we need more security than what these folks had. A security guard who makes about four times what you currently make would be a good idea. Don’t you think?

OFFICER: And you give me the tape.

DANNY: Hmmm, I ain’t no dummy. I keep the tape. Insurance.

OFFICER: Okay, it all sounds fine except for one thing. We got two bodies here and these people obviously did not tie themselves up and die accidentally. That has to be explained to someone.

GARY: Shit. There’s always somethin’.

(Jones enters)

JONES: What’s going on here? How did you people get in to this house? (He notices the bodies). Oh, my God. What happened?

DANNY: You tell us, Jonesey boy. What happened? You couldn’t take their condescending attitude anymore? Well, Officer, it looks like you get to make one more arrest before your retirement. Two bodies, three witnesses, a closed and shut case. I ain’t no dummy.

OFFICER: Jones, is it? Come with me. You’re under arrest. Two counts of first degree murder.

(They exit)

DEBBIE: Did this just happen?

GARY: Okay, God, keep it. Not such a bad day after all.

DANNY: Hold on a minute. I gotta make a call. (He dials a cell phone) Yeah, hey, this is Danny. I’m not gonna be in today. (Pause) I don’t care about your fuckin’ schedule. Work it yourself. I got better things to do. I got a life to live.

(Blackout)

THE LAST THIEF

a play

by

Callen Harty

Ó 2000, Callen Harty