Job for the Fellas | Teen Ink

Job for the Fellas

February 16, 2011
By Paintinguptheskyline BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
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Paintinguptheskyline BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Writing is a idle bussiness

The author's comments:
Look for more scenes in the next month!

Curtains open. The entire scene is played out fast. Conner Quinn is standing under a street lamp, waiting for a taxi, with the light shining on him. He’s dressed in a brown, work suit, holding a suitcase he uses to keep paper work for his job. Slow, minor-key, jazz music is playing in the background. Four people are standing in a broken line stage right of Conner, all waiting their turn for a taxi, two males and a couple. Conner looks around from person to person contemplating possible conversations he could hold with them, but makes no effort to start them. Conner takes a long heave and sets his suitcase down next to him. Then Jimmy Wellington enters stage right, jazz music flares up into a faster, major-key, pace; matching with Jimmies footsteps. He runs down stage and calls for a taxi. . CONNER QUINN: (To Jimmy nervous.) E-excuse M-me sir, but we were all her first. JIMMY WELLINGTON: (Jerking back; walks toward Conner.) What’s that Batty Boy-io’? CONNER: I was just s-saying how we were all waiting for a taxi before you. I don’t k-know if you knew tha- JIMMY: (Cuts off.) Oi! Bruv what ya tryin’ to say? Ya callin’ me a muppet? CONNER: No, n-not at all sir, It’s jus- JIMMY: (Cuts off) Don’t say what ya don’t mean chap. I’m just nudging’ ya pal, I ain’t agro I ain’t. CONNER: Yes sir... JIMMY: Oi mate, cut it with this sir chit-chat business, (Walking up to Conner and casually tossing his arm around him.) We’re pals ya see. CONNER: (Uncomfortable) I don’t even know your name si- (Catching himself.) friend. JIMMY: What it matter we ain’t know each other’s names ya got an axe to grind or something’? Well, it ain’t no matter, we can solve that. Name’s Jimmy. CONNER: C-c-conner, my name is Conner. JIMMY: Please ta meet ya Conner. How’s ya health hangin’? CONNER: Yes, hello, well I guess… JIMMY: Not talkie much? Cat got ya tongue, come-on chap, put ‘em down and open up. So what’s ya tale Conner? You just get done with an old “in out in out” with ya girl? You know the old five-minute shag? Or are ya an honest working man comin’ back from the factories? CONNER: I don’t see how that’s any of your buisne- JIMMY: (Cuts off) Whoa steady on their ol’chap. Ya do any devil’s-four-gamble at all? CONNER: N-no. I’ve never actually been to a horse race before. JIMMY: Poor shame chap, I’m returnin’ from one, got in a Devon Loch, their I did. CONNER: (Slightly annoyed) I’m sorry but is there a point to this? JIMMY: You seem to be daft as a brush, we pals ain’t we? (Setting his suitcase down next to Conner’s not noticing they are similar) An- (Jimmy gets cut off by a couple standing to the right when they begin arguing very loudly. Annoyed he takes his arm off of Conner and turns to them) JIMMY: (Playfully at Conner) Bloody hell. (Screaming at the couple.) What a palaver! How ‘bout ya shut your traps ya wankers before I give ya a right royal sticky end in a tick! (The couple stops fighting and looked shocked, the women nudges the man wanting him to say something back but the man refuses. They both stare at Jimmy.) All that mean’s bugger off before I pop’ ya (Flailing his arm stage right signaling them to walk away. The couple take’s a few steps right and tries to look in every direction but back at Jimmy. Jimmy then turns back to Conner) So where were we? CONNER: (Petrified.) You were saying h-how we’re pals… JIMMY: (Snapping his fingers in realization.) That’s right chap! Now I know ya’s sound as a pound, and considerin’ we’re pals, why not spare a penny ol’ Jimmies way? CONNER: E-excuse me? JIMMY: (Throwing arm back around Conner.) Come on their chap; toss some of that pin money my way. Ya know you don’t need it, besides I’m short for a pint ma-self and I’m at a loose end. So consider it charity. CONNER: But I d-don’t even know you. JIMMY: (More persistent, slightly agitated, and the friendly “arm around the shoulder” gesture becomes tense as he starts to rock Conner back and forth) CONNER: (Not attempting to stop Jimmy) Sir, I really have n-no money to give you. JIMMY: (Frustrated, rocking Conner viscously) Ya sure ‘bout that? Don’t be a dog in a manger now Boy-io. (Conner nod’s hesitantly) JIMMY: (Stops rocking Conner, patting him on the chest) No problem mate. (Just as Conner sighs in relief Jimmy swings him around and slams him against the lamp post. The jazz music explodes in a fiery beat.) Then how ‘bout I just take it from ya? Your decision. (Taking switch blade out.) You can give it to me, or I can cut it out ya, you gonna lose ya bottle to do something about that? MAN 1: (To man 2.) Oh God! You gonna help that fella? MAN 2: (To man 1.)I-I can’t, I got a bad leg, how ‘bout you? MAN 1: (To man 2.) My nose kinda hurts, wouldn’t wanna get hit and make it worse chum. JIMMY: (To men.) Pipe down ya slag’s, before I sob ya across the pond. (Violently hits his foot in the direction of the men then he turns back to Conner) So, what ya say? CONNER: (More scared then angry.) What the bloody hell you doing?! (In a sad attempt to save himself.) Y-you said we were friends…….. Pal. (The people in the scene react. The lady from the couple tries to pull her husband off stage right but he refuses wanting to watch the fight.) WOMEN 1: (To man 3 pulling him stage right.) Come on hubby, let’s beat the sticks. MAN 3: (To women 1 holding her back.) Hold on. WOMEN 1: (To man 3) Bu- MAN 3: (Cuts off women 1) Shhhh. JIMMY: Oi ya twit! You listen to me ya arse. We’re friends if ya pay me! Innit eh? Ya understand? (Lifting and slamming Conner against the post) Get that threw ya think yarn-ball, ya pay me ‘n’ we’re good! CONNER: Don’t hurt me! JIMMY: I’m at the end of my tether ya sob. CONNER: I’m sorry! (Flinching) I don’t have anything. There’s nothing I can spare. JIMMY: Ok. Pip pip, cheerio and all that rot then (Picking up his hand to swing straight at Conner’s face) CONNER: (Flinching trying to cover his face) Ok! Ok! Ok! Stop! JIMMY: (Jokingly surprised) All my eye and Peggy Martin! Did ma pal come around? CONNER: Y-y-yeah. (Reaches into his pocket when Jimmy stops him for a second.) JIMMY: Ya do anything funny and I’ll lay you across a zebra crossing and wait for the bus to come around. We got an understandin’? (Conner pulls money out of pocket) CONNER: (Handing money to Jimmy) H-h-here you go. JIMMY: (Throws his arm around Conner, and counts the money. The Jazz music slows down slightly, stays in a major-key, still matching the mood of the scene.) There ya go pal, I like how ya came around friend. Next time do it off ya own bat so we can avoid all this nonsense. CONNER: (Shaken and scared) O-ok JIMMY: You sure this all ya got? This ain’t no curate’s egg. (Conner nods and reveals his pockets empty) JIMMY: Ok then pal. Oi! At least I broke ya duck! First times always hard! Now you look like death warmed up, ya sick or somethin’? I wouldn’t want ta get sick if ya were, or did you really lose ya bottle over somethin so silly like this misunderstandin’? (Just as Conner was about to talk Jimmy quickly jerks his head down stage) JIMMY: Taxi! (Lifting his hand to signal it, and Grabbing Conner’s suitcase by accident) Well it was nice meetin’ ya! Hope we can do this again sometime. (Runs off stage left)

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