OPERA BUFFA

ACT ONE
The Deaf Guy Who Blows Up Mountains
Then Drinks Himself To Sleep Before He Has To
Wake Up And Do It All Again!

CHORUS (the two Harpies)

This is a story we know to be true
Take it from me sister one (and me sister two)
About the man here with a wallet full of moo-lah
Which we will gladly take in exchange for some hoo-hah
No one knows this now but his real name is Tom Tuttleman
Dylan is what we call him, but only to befuddle him
But first let him sing his song full of song
When this story falls apart as it will before long
Then we will return and ring a ding his ding dong

DYLAN
When your rooster crows, look out the window and Ill be gone.
I wake up every morning before dawn
and before light I head down every morning into the darkness.
But before I descend into my darkness
I take note.

Every morning I do this: I look up

at the power lines right beside the entrance to my cave
where a flock of birds rest, their heads tucked under their wings,
all tight and round like the balls of grass you sometimes see
gathered like pranks on the wires.

First time I saw the birds there I shouted, WAKE UP!

And with a dulled fury they reluctantly scraped their way into the dark sky.
I have regretted that act ever since. And so now, every morning
when I see them in their own and possessive darkness,
I simply whisper, SLEEP TIGHT, I whisper.
If I had wings and I could fly, I know where I would go.

CHORUS (Colleen and the bar crowd)

In his own stink he sits here and wallows
Hes drunk and hes deaf, hes the dynamite guy

Locked in his mind songs fly like trapped swallows

Hes deaf and hes drunk, but he wont tell you a lie

DYLAN
I then begin my descent, first by walking down a sloping path into the mountain,
the yellow lights above me telling me that miles of darkness are ahead,
then I climb into an elevator and descend into an even truer darkness,
coming out into a room where a cart awaits,
and upon this cart we ride further down a river as black as any,
through a blackness that rubs its back upon your skin,
that glides against the surfaces of your eyes,
you can feel this darkness it is that complete.

And then we break it with our lanterns and flash sticks and strings of sodium lights.
We are all alone, yet we can feel the earth as it were a city of beings
sitting upon our shoulders. It is today, but it is in another lifetime,
one of toil and blood, when blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud.
If it were not for the feeling of being one with a colony of ourselves,
there would be nothing to feel. Here we dwell until our job is done
and then we climb back up, climb back out,
and when we reach the mouth of the beast and are spit back into the world,
it is night, and so we are greeted by blackness once again.

Each day the day grows longer. Each day our tunnel grows longer.
And so every day our return takes longer. And so we never meet the coming light.
Thats what it is, a never ending cycle of black to black. No one dares watch us descend.
No one notices us when we emerge, even though the lights upon us
are brighter than the sun. How many times can a man turn his head,
pretending he just doesnt see?
We wind our way home through streets like faint ripples of smoke.
Our wives no longer greet us when we come home,
our kids think we are too stupid to engage in conversation.
They have other idols, cleaner role models they prefer to a dirty man
with swollen pores and nubs for fingers.

It might have been years ago when we told ourselves: only a few months more,
a year or two at most, and we would move on, get on with life,
before that life passed us by, that was what five, ten, fifteen years ago!
Yet life is all in all complete. Our wives fill us with emptiness
and our children fill us with regret, yet we cherish these emotions
and wear them as protection against all that would harm us in the world.
Even if the flesh falls from our face, we know someone will be there to care of us.
We dont have time to think about meaning or truth.

Life is a passing parade when we look in one direction,

an audience looking upon us when we look in the other direction.

We seek companionship only with people who wear our same masks,
who appear worse off than us. Before we say hello,
we look first for a missing limb or a broken jaw. We dont care what we say.
Lies that life is black and white speak from our skulls.
We know that with a few beers and bottle of rum we will reach a state
that makes sense to us.

CHORUS (the bar crowd)

Real men dont wear plugs rather let their hearing fade
And so he did over time til finally one day
During a Dylan song the outside world was quieted
Against a refrain of Bobbys that would forever play

DYLAN
Were the cogs in the wheel.
We are the guys who walk the street hoping someone will notice us one day.
We wander with no where to go on this earth. Using ideas of heaven as our maps.
We are the blades of grass that never get pissed on, yet get pissed on every day.
We are the reason the store clerk restocks the shelves with Marlboros and Twinkies.
We will always wait for the light to turn green before we walk,
thankful for the rest and a chance to watch the world move without us.
We wash our asshole every day and never wonder why.
Billions of dollars are made each day in profits off our overdraft fees.

Look across the faces at a funeral, ours will always be there.

We alone are responsible for the imperceptible progress of the world.
Without us churches would be cobwebbed barns for bats, moths.
On our backs you find the real integrity in the world fighting to maintain its grip.
We alone make the world go round. Because of us, no one wakes up and wonders:
Will the streets be there today? Will the bridges be up?
No one ever opens their door and questions if there will a steady procession
of red and green lights, if there will be gasoline for their cars, coffee for their cups,
newspapers on their lawns, mail in their mailboxes.
Because of us, a white shirt is ready for them each morning,
the water is hot, and when they come home they have a hot meal and
a pussy that smells like lavender soap.

CHORUS (Snooky)
Hes a drunk and deaf but he is no dope
Hes chisled of stone, hes the dynamite guy
He stinks like a pig but cant sell him no soap
In that head hes alone, hes the dynamite guy.

DYLAN
We cut the earth and broaden the lakes and otherwise make the world
look better than a jarheads crew cut. We are the ones who take ideas

and let them actually fly through the air. On the battle fields anywhere
we are the dead faces you will whisper to, hey guy are you alive?
We alone carry the spare change that truly runs the world.
If you are searching for the guy who has an actual answer, that would be me, or you.
We are stupid but we are all that is smart about the world.
Whatever colors you have in your mind, Ill show them to you and
youll see them shine. We are the source of continuity, but never the source of change.
We make change acceptable, but we do not advocate one position or another.
We build what we are told to build, we drive the way we are told to drive,
we pay our taxes, we surrender our tithes, we rarely complain.
We are better than dogs. You can love us or kick us, we dont care.
You and I, we are the backbone of society, thoughtless really,
but without us there would be no movement.

Pavlov described us well. Skinner was studying us. Eliot, Melville,

Faulkner, got us all wrong. If we dont have an answer, we are certain someone else does.
Like sponges we filter the polluted air with our decaying lungs.
Only Jimmy Joyce got us right. The line is drawn, the curse is cast.
We are the carriers of every known scourge. Our sperm is weakening
but we are the sole source of strength in the world. We are deformed,
all of us, nothing better than cheap circus performers who care less about applause.
Without us there would be no real music, no rhythm, only background noise,
the worst of which is history. We have no need for 18 year old single malt or truth.

CHORUS (Colleen)
Clap you hands, shout and yell
He wont turn his head
In his own world he dwells
And he might as well just be dead

DYLAN
We are deaf to the past, blind to the future, living in the moment
without an ounce of spirituality.
We make the idea of progress little more than a joke,
we hush the naysayers, we make the visionaries cringe.
We are the proof that time is an illusion, there is nothing real about memories.
We represent all that is right and all that is wrong in the world.
There are many here among us who feel that lifes a joke.
But you and I, we've been through that, and that is not our fate.

Lets not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late. Look at us and
all you imagine is anarchy. Without us all you would have would be anarchy.
We are the true ruling class if only due to our slathering obedience.
We are the reason there are light bulbs, the reason they build sidewalks.
Because of us there are piles of used tires just waiting to burn,
seagulls dive bombing the landfills just waiting to turn.

Without us there would be no other countries, there would be no frontier,

there would be no war. We have no role in the true ways of the world.
We only watch jealousies play themselves out. We never truly love
like certain monogamous animals. We feel little when we kill.
Yet only war makes us feel alive. We are the sawdust on the floor soaking up what spills.
We are the steady state not the source of excitability.

We offer nothing more than the agar on the agar plate.

We but smile as the disease spreads across our faces.
Entire tunnels could collapse upon us and no one would ever
remember our names, no matter how often they were scrolled across the TV.
Yet without us there would be no real music, there would be no real
sorrow, there would be none of that momentary happiness that makes
life ultimately livable. Without us there would be no ballpark cheer.
There would be no bustle in the street. There would be no everyman
to set the story straight. Without us there would be no indignation.
There would be no rags to riches. There would be no time of our lives.
Without us, there would be no kingdom come. There would be no Miles Davis.
There would be no better way.

CHORUS (the bar crowd)

Night after night
He just sits here and drinks

Night after night

A songs all he thinks

DYLAN
Without us, there would be no banality.
There would be no reason to fear mediocrity.
There would be no reason to live, no reason to die.
You and I, we are the sole source of fear in the world.
Without us, the world would not have a prayer,
there would be no reason for prayer.

There would be no yesterday, and no one would care about tomorrow.

You and I, we are the blood of the earth, we fill the bowels of humanity.
We are the piss and vinegar, we are the stench that never leaves.
We are the faces you see when you suddenly and inexplicably wonder,
who are all these people here? Our blank stares fill the bus windows.
Our painfully crooked bodies crowd every aisle and avenue.
We carry the tunes one cant seem to forget. Without us there would be no bowling.
We are the twisted wrecks of the earth. We are the blessed saviors.
You and I are among the faces that only hope to be seen, not recognized.

Because of us, death has a sweet sorrow and a daily meaning everyone can embrace.
Because of us they believe a voice from on high will say,

10

for whose sake did you live, for whose sake did you die?
Lacking teeth, lacking substance, lacking even the simplest intelligence,
we are not just the stuff of humanity. We are the detritus of humanity.
We are its soul.

CHORUS (the bar crowd)

Dont try to move him
You will never change him
Dont try to help him
You will only distress him

DYLAN
We study the man who lives in mystery on the other side of the neighborhood.
The one who wears a white shirt and a woolen suit to work.
We see him waxing his car, we see his maid washing down his windows,
we see his gardener squirting down his driveway.
Dont criticize what you cant understand.

Yet, we know he has ordered the removal of the filth he believes

we caused upon him. No matter that that dust could be our ashes,
could be the disbursed disintegrant of our bodies,
he only knows it is because of us that the world is a bit filthier than pleases him.
Dont criticize what you cant understand.

11

Yet he goes about cleaning, his wife goes about sanitizing and
they hire an army to sterilize the rest that they cannot reach.
Dont criticize what you cant understand.

Without you and I, there would be no way to tolerate the constant noise,
the background against which all else must eventually emerge.
The noise that surrounds us is a constant, and therefore terrible refrain.
Its an idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats,
blowing through the letters that we wrote, through the dust upon our shelves.
Idiot wind, we can not clamp our hands against it, it is internal,
it is all we know of the outer. The constant squeaks and hisses,
the pops and hums, broken only by an occasional blast, a scream maybe, a warning?
No, we have heard it too many times to be alarmed.

We are the guardians of the silence. We know it so well.

Weve walked across oceans too black to sink in.
Weve seen children with no idea of childhood.
Weve heard the lies some call love. Were the shoeless whove met the man
without feet. We promise well return, but never do.
The human mind can only stand so much. Some things are too hot to touch. May your
heart always be joyful. May your song always be sung.

12

INTERMISSION

With that, his head slumped to the counter. His drink nearly fell. He was asleep
face down on the sticky bar. The fight in the crowd seems to be taking a violent turn as
the eruptions grow louder and a woman screams when she slips and falls to the floor.
Men pushing. Ululations that always proceed the inevitable among men. Zim looks over
at Colleen who looks back at him. What does she expect, he wonders, that I: could I
help? Zim turned around, about to step down off his stool.
-

Hey you, a bloke said, arent you the paperboy?

Who me? Zim said.

Yea, the Bloke said, you came around my house to pick up a payment the other

night.
The melee quiets of its own accord. Zim sits back on his stool.
-

Maybe.
Thinking: Here we go. Took this guys payment. Been a week. Bet Im caught.

Suckerpunch coming? Wonder if I will even fight back? Whatever, dont cry. Colleen
looking on, better manage a kick or something. Dont run. Walk. But dont run.
-

Maybe, yes, the Bloke said, and I gave you a hundred, but now I got a bill again

like I never paid.

-

Must be a mistake.

I think so, the Bloke said. I think you made a mistake buddy. Maybe you put that

hundy into your pocket of your nice Lucky jeans there and forgot it was there. Can we
check it now and see if you still got it?

13

Not sure what you want

Did I hear the paperboy is here, a dude said, sidling up to the two of them.

Yea dude, the Bloke said. He came by knocking on the door of my Ponderosa

Twinstar RV, gave me some story about how I was behind in my payments, got me
believing him, then he stole a hundred bucks from me.
-

Yea, we know each other too, dont we paperboy, the Dude said. You remember,

this morning at my dads house. We were just getting ready to head over to the Forest
Hills Mortuary, the oldest and most respected mortician in town. We had the whole
family over trying to relax a bit with some Nescafe and Cremora before we all go into our
new Chevy Suburban.
-

Those seat what eight? the Bloke asked.

Twelve people comfortably. But here he came by to pick up twenty five bucks

my dad owed him for the paper. My old man, who just died the day before out on the
back nine at Indian Hills Golf Course, you know, the Jack Nickalus course near the new
Radisson Highwater resort just off Highway 45.
Zim accidentally catches the eyes of Colleen. Smiles at her.
-

Seems we got a bit of a situation here, the Bloke said, playing with the clasp on

his Timex Sports and Diving watch, as if fixing to remove it from his wrist less it risk
getting damaged somehow.
-

I dont know, Bloke, the Dude said, Im looking at these Maui Jim sunglasses in

his pocket, and cant help but notice his Mark Nason sidezip half boots, and you know I
think the guy may be alright, for a paperboy anyway. But maybe he should at least buy
us a couple drinks, whatya think bloke?

14

Id still like to check his Mont Blanc accessories for some missing money.

Yea, but it sounds like they got some of Van Morrisons new album playing, and

man that is great stuff! Makes me feel American. So I say we are all Chevy men and so
lets share in some libations first, on the paperboy, of course!
-

Colleen appeared as if on cue. What can I get for you guys? Is this a Bud Light

night?
-

Two Goldschlagers and yea make it two Bud Lights, the Bloke said, and this fine

gentlemen here in the fine Sevens shirt said he would pick up the tab for us tonight.
-

Wow, generous tonight, huh? She smiled and turned away.

Im as thirsty as a Brawns paper towel tonight, Dude said, and a Bud Light is just

the right thing for that, the bloke said, how about you?
-

Could drink Americas finest beer all night, the Dude said, which we will

undoubtedly do. And these Rolld Gold Pretzels sure hit the spot. Even better they make
me want to drink more. Mind if I take your seat paperboy?
-

No problem, Zim said, stepping up and away. Needed to stand: bullocks

bubbling.
-

So Paperboy, the bloke said, tell us something. You get laid on this job of yours?

Plenty of women looking to shag something easy, quick. In the living room on the
LazyBoy Reclining couch with the lifetime guaranteed stainfree Scotchguard treatment,
just wipe that mess away, or do the Postman Ring Twice on the Thomasville kitchen
table, with some Wsthof-Trident knives for play.
-

Or get all greased up against the Weber Summit Propane Gas Grill. Bet you get it

all the time huh?

15

Not really, Zim said, realizing Colleen was listening.

Cmon man, the Dude said, were your drinking buds. You gotta tell us. Plenty

of Martha Stewart style pussy out there in the daytime. Old, young. Wives left behind by
their solder guys, some of Americas finest, off fighting. The Jacuzzi is a great place,
then you know the twats been clean by those powerful, triple action therapeutic jets.
Cmon give us a bone buddy. Just a bone.
-

Wish I could, Zim said. Fact is I could get fired for shit like that.

Ha! the bloke laughed. Paperboy thinks hed get fired for bonking a customer.

Thats funny huh. You got a duty paperboy, a duty to all of us guys out here. So let me
tell you. Next time you go out on your little paper route, you plan on fucking at least one
of them customers. Dont tell us no one fucks the paperboy! If you have trouble picking
one out, come by my house, you can have my old lady. I will get her all ready for you
okay? Ill have her get out the Venus electric razor for women and trim it up a bit for
you, okay? Shell even pull out the Summer Eves douche for you as well! The whole
Oscar Meyer salami buddy!
-

Hey you listening man? the Dude said. The Bloke is offering you his wifes daisy

fresh cleaned and smooth as silk pussy! Only us buds would do that for each other, right
Bloke.
-

Right! The bloke affirmed.

And you saw my sister this morning right? The hot Donna Karan number

remember?
-

Yea, I suppose.

Well, I will throw her in as well. But you gotta do it man.

16

You gotta do it, the Bloke said again. We are counting on you. Just like you can

always depend on , we are depending on you!

-

Doo blooo dooo.

Colleen, Zim shouted, Take this. He laid five twenties on the bar.

Good man, paperboy.

Gotta step out.

Dont go far now. We love ya man.

What the fuck is that smell?

Bloke, someone blew their Old Spice!

Nasty, Dude! My Just For Men is turning gray!

Get out the Glade, Bloke, spank that nasty odor in the ass!
Instead of leaving, he sat outside, his back against the wall. Squatting in the stale

drunk sourmist, emitting a chortling stream of nitrogen (ingested air), carbon dioxide (six
beers so far), and enough oxygen and methane to light a candle. So Im a coward, now
she knows. What was I to do? Took care of itself. Sometimes the best thing to do is
nothing. But not if you want her to feel safe. Perhaps never should be in a situation
where another needs me. Art of the weak: the man able to bear the full weight of the
trivial which threatens to take him down, suffocate him, who is not intimidated by all that
seems to be working against him, always ready to move on. Women just call us cowards.
From the bar, the three drunken sailors who were in the middle of the raucous
inside appear, carrying a fourth who has lost his landlegs. Drank em away. Tossed him
on shore near Zim, like a limp pinoped from the sea.
-

Lets take him over the border, Soldier One says,

17

Hes too fucked up, Soldier Two says, too much trouble. Almost started a fucking

riot in there. Fucking asshole. Can you see him puking on the border guard. Then were
stuck there til morning.
-

Plenty of hookers right here, man, Soldier One says.

Im a peaceful man, a fighting man of peace, the Drunken Sailor says, I want to

fall in love, and love has nothing to do with sex.

-

Can only say that if youre married, Sailor Three says.

We only got tonight, guys, Sailor One says, Fuckol is shipping out tomorrow.

I have seen the future Mrs. Fuckol and she is right inside this circus. My tiny

dancer.
-

Got to get him out of here, boy, help me here.

Hold me close now tiny dancer, watch the headlights on the hiiiiiiiiway.

Whos fucking idea was this, Sailor Three says. Lets get him in the car.

I will give her diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and silk, Fuckol says, slipping

slipperily from his mates hands, pooling gelatinously upon the parking lot.
-

Get him up, for Christs sake, act like a man Fuckol.

Cant, I am in love. Love destroys the man.

Hes fucking smashed, Sailor Two says, fuck this. Leave him here in the light and

lets just make sure he gets home in time for revelry.

Reveille, Zim silently corrects.
-

Cant leave him hear, Sailor One says.

Sure, Sailor Three says, why the fuck not. This chump will watch him, right?

Who me, Zim says.

18

Yea, dont let him crawl away, Sailor Two says, he is fighting for your freedom

and your liberty.

-

Now I know youre joking, Zim says, looking down at the drooling mouth that

lies next to his shoe.

-

Hes got a boner for the bartender in there. Maybe shell give a blow job for a

few extra bucks. Go ask her.

-

Who me, Sailor Two says, you ask her. She aint going to do nothing.

Find someone that looks like her then. Who gives a fuck. For Christs sake is this

how you assholes are going to treat me when I ship out? Fuck. Pick him up!
-

Let me go! Fuckol screams and slipslides back to the ground.

Screw it, Sailor one says, Im out of here. You come back and get him later.

Why me, Sailor Three says.

Cuz I fucking told you to, Sailor One says, and walks away.

Hey buddy, Zim says now left alone with the drunken Fuckol. Hey buddy! You

gotta get off the ground man.

-

This aint the ground, its a cloud. I am in heaven.

Then heaven is where we all go to barf and piss. You are lying in some nasty shit,

Zim says. And some of these drunks out here aint going to see you until they have
stomped all over you. Worse yet, puke all over you.
-

I deserve it. I left the sea where I belong, so here I am, left to flounder. Have you

seen her?
-

Who?

My love.

19

Yea, she is beginning to think you are shitassed baby. Dude get up!

Tell her Im waiting. Tell her Ill be waiting, tonight, tomorrow night, forever

night. On land, on sea, in heaven, or hell, in hell. You believe in hell?

-

Right now, yes.

Well, let me tell you about hell cuz I dont think you knew shit.

20

ACT TWO
The Sailors Song About Hell and Other Things

SAILOR FUCKOL
Its all an illusion, hells an illusion, its an idea we made up to make up
for what we dont want to know even if we could know it.
We are just animals man, no souls, just animals.
Know how I know?

CHORUS (Zim)
The police are out here Im not shitting you dude.
Your behavior here is gross and its certainly quite lewd

SAILOR FUCKOL
I know cuz I am one. And you dont know if youre an animal
until you kill someone. Thats when you know.
I shot someone, I shot a guy. I shot a woman too. And a kid.
I shot a bunch of people. Even though they asked me not to,

21

I could see they had no souls.

I was just mowing down flesh, chipping down some animals.
There was nothing convincing in any of their faces to convince me
of any soul or any God or any heaven or any hell.

If there was a soul youd see it somehow, it would come to the

foreplay of a confrontation between life and death,
it would be at that passage point between life and the extinguishment of life.
But it aint there. Nothings there.
It is just something we make up to get through life.
It explains some things, I guess. But it aint for real no how.
You afraid to die?

CHORUS (Zim)
(to Sailor Fuckol) Sure.
(to the audience) who isnt except for this guy
death is but a sort of goodbye

SAILOR FUCKOL
Yea, me too.

CHORUS (Zim)
(to Sailor Fuckol) Yea, you too?

22

(to the audience) what could he know

to him its all just a damn video

SAILOR FUCKOL
Fuck yea. It hurts to die.
Not like the movies. Someone shoots you
and it takes you maybe two days to die.
Bugs, dirt, no water.
People coming by to piss on you and youre still alive.
Sticking you with things. Smacking you in the balls.
You ass hanging out like a sausage skin, shit everywhere.
I dont want to die man. And I got a theory about dying.

CHORUS (Zim)
(to Soldier Fuckol) Yea
(to the audience) what does he know
hes a killing machine

SAILOR FUCKOL
Yea, I got a theory about dying
which says when you die it takes forever.
I dont care if you get struck by lightning
or if you are buried alive under the sand,

23

I dont care if it seems like it takes a second or a decade,

if you are dying it takes forever all the same.
I know that. I saw it.
I didnt see a soul in those eyes, but I saw forever,
I saw that moment lasting forever in those eyes.

CHORUS (Zim)
Look out! Look out!
Bodies crossing, calling out,
muttering, stepping over the soldiers liquid arms and legs,
jacket thrown across him, armless,
like tentacles spread about, six, or eight?
Cant remember.
Look out! Look out!

SAILOR FUCKOL
And you see it at sea too.
Dont know why we think of the sea as a spirit, a person, some mother.
Its all a lie. The sea is a desert, its the biggest nothing on earth.
There is no soul there, there is no plan, no idea for man, for anything.
Go to sea and you stop thinking. Theres no thought at sea.
Nothing. Its a wasteland. And what it is becomes you.
All wet and yet youd die of thirst in a few days. But its where I belong.

24

Its where I come from.

You ever fall in love?

CHORUS (Zim)
(to Sailor Fuckol) Not sure.
(to the audience) Not sure.

SAILOR FUCKOL
I have. A million times.
Every time I see a person I fall in love all over again.
Man or woman.
Fat or skinny.
Black or white.
Arab or Jew. Dont matter.
I fall in love every time.
But this time, I have discovered something new about love.

CHORUS (Zim)
(with shock) With her did he say?
(to the audience) with my Colleen?
In this vomit youll stay
You drunken Marine

25

SAILOR FUCKOL
Yea. With her, I could change.
Id become a real man.
Id stop being deranged
The smacktalking asshole that I am.
I could become a real man,
a family man, not some fighter,
but a soft manly man,
Who will love her outside and inside her
I dont have to drink to have a good time.
I dont have to drink to screw or to fuck.
I dont have to drink to be funny .
I could be like that just as if it was just how I was.
That is what I think this love is about.
It is not about pussy.
It is about mightier things

A car pulls up nearly driving over Soldier Fuckols legs. Enter Bobbie the Driver.

CHORUS (Zim)
Hey watch out!

CHORUS (Bobbie)

26

What the fuck?

get the drunk out of the parking lot!

CHORUS (Zim)
I cant move him.
But be my guest.
I cant carry him
But be my guest
I cant save him
But please be my guest

CHORUS (Bobbie)
Is he sick?

SAILOR FUCKOL
Im in love!

CHORUS (Bobbie)
Well fuck me!

CHORUS (Zim)
He is drunk

27

SAILOR FUCKOL
Im in love

BOBBIE
Hes a schmuck

BOBBIE (turns and says to the Crowd that gathers around him)
Hey, hey lets wait up a second for Jonesy.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

Where is he?

BOBBIE (The Driver)

Parking his car, somewhere dark.
Hes got expired plates.
We can chill here a minute.
Finish these beers.
Cant take them inside asswipe.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

I need a beer and
Need some drugs man.
Dope? Dope? Rope a dope?

28

SAILOR FUCKOL
And so with this revelation,
I will become a better man.
I will make my home a destination
I will make my nest a place of souful rest.
I will lay her there and I will comfort her and
care for her and I will make her life
the softest, sweetest life on earth.

BOBBIE
Oh man, Oh man!
you should have seen Jones today,
he was on fucking fire, man!

SAILOR FUCKOL
And when we make love,
it will be the sweetest love,
my mouth upon her mouth,
my lips upon her lips

BOBBIE
Torched up these dudes.

29

Took em for a ride

CHORUS (the Crowd)

Who was dey?
Need a beer and
need some dope man

SAILOR FUCKOL
my tongue upon her tongue,
my hands upon her hips,
her stomach, her breast

CHORUS (Zim)
Shut up asshole, Shut your mouth

BOBBIE
Some punk ass kids from somewhere, man.
Jones fucking whooped them, man.
You should have been there.
I never seen that kind of shit before.
We had downed bout four or five cans of brew, nothing else to do.
Hot like fuck, man.
Jones is shooting around on the court,

30

gets hot you know, knocks down about twelve in a row from thirty feet or so.
Just net. All whispers.
Bullet shots, man.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

Yea, I seen him do that.
Hes primed at about five beers.
Sober and hes shaking.
Whose got a fag.
Four or five beers and hes like a sniper.

SAILOR FUCKOL
my hands upon her ass,
my fingers beneath her panties,
slipping insider her pussy,
my kisses upon her clitoris,

CHORUS (Zim)
Shut up asshole, Shut your mouth

BOBBIE
But you aint seen nothing like this,
just you listen.

31

So these kids are eyeing up ol Jonesy, you know,

they see this old dude in jeans and glasses teeing off from beyond
the three line, you know,
so they say something to him, something like who you think you are
Larry Bird or something?

SAILOR FUCKOL
my tongue inside her vagina,
my fingers inside her ass,
my cock inside her mouth,
her lips upon my shaft,
her tongue upon my balls

CROWD (Zim)
Shut up asshole, Shut your mouth

BOBBIE
Jones he dont answer, like he is, you know,
just takes another step back and boom, you know.
Nails it again. The kids fall down, they just fucking fall down
Im telling you, like a grenade went off or something.
Fuck me, those kids say, how you like that old man.
Jones, you know Jones,

32

he never says a word anyway,

he just starts walking away.

SAILOR FUCKOL
my cock inside her cunt,
my finger inside her butt

CHORUS (Zim)
Shut up asshole, Shut your mouth!

BOBBIE
The kids start shouting for him to do it again, you know
and Jones just goes over and grabs a beer pops it sits down
and you know Jones, he might as well be deaf for all he cares.
I say to one of the kids, think you can beat him?
The kid looks at me, and says what you saying.
I say, you think you can beat him?
Fuck yea, the kids says, that old man.
Hell yea. I just want to see him throw up another one before he goes
limp from all that beer hes drinking.
I got five bucks says you cant match him from top of the key.
What you talking about the kids says.

33

CHORUS (the Crowd)

I see this coming.
Need a beer and
need some dope man.
Hey there is an accident or something over there.
So hey you got a fag man?

SAILOR FUCKOL
I am in love . In love

CHORUS (the Crowd)

weeeoooo weeeoooo weeeeoooo
wa-oh wa-oh wa-oh
You seen Merle?
Need a beer and
need some dope man.
I know whats coming.

BOBBIE
Yea, I say to this kid, I got five bucks
which says that old man beats you at the top of the key.
The kid looks around at his buddies. Says OK.
First to miss, he says. OK, I said.

34

Jones gets up, toes the line, sends a ball arcing into the fucking sun,
strokes the net. The kid follows,
cocky cock sucker nails his shot. Jones lines up again,
lets it sail, bonk, hits the rim bounces off.
The kid smiles at his buddies, lets it fly,
swish.
I give him a five. Like he is MJ.
Does he want to do it again, the kid says.
I dont know, I say, Jones you feel like it?
This kid is good, Jones. I dont know, Jones says,
that last beer kind went to my head.
I guess he aint in the mood, I say to the kid.
Cmon old man, Ill let you pick the shot,
the kid says to Jones.

CHORUS (The Crowd)

It aint no accident, its a fight or something,
some gangbangers down there by the tire place.
Need a beer man need some dope.
I know how this goes, Jones fucks him up right
Dope, dope, dope, mj, rocks, luuuuuuuuuuudes.
Whats that stink man, you cut one?
Shit! Hey did this drunk die on us?

35

CHORUS (Zim)
Just fell asleep.

BOBBIE
One more time, Jones, I say to Jones,
give me a chance to get that five back for Christs sake.
We will need it later on. Yea, like some more beer, the kid says,
laughing like its funny or something. Well, that got Jones up off his ass.
He takes the ball and stands a few feet from the foul line.
You gonna shoot from there, the kid yells. NBN, Jones says.
N-the-B-fuck-what, the kid says.
Nothing but net, Jones says and he shoots and it swishes through,
net dont even fucking move. The kid steps up, shoots, clean.
Big fucking deal, he says to Jones.
I say to the kid, ten shots five each winner picks. Sure the kid says.
Go ahead gramps he says to Jones. Jones steps up to the line again.
Not again, the kid says. Rim shot, Jones says.
Huh the kid says as Jones launches the shot.
Ball hits the front of the rim, bounces up like this and falls straight through.
What, the kid screams, that was fucking luck.
Do it, shooters call, I say to him.

36

The kid shoots, hits the rim bounces back in his face.
Thats fucked up, the kid says. I take my five back.
Jones is now in the corner. Back rim this time.
Jones lets it fly, ball hits the back of the rim bounces up and falls through the net.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

I think its the sewer, dead cat or something.
Comes and goes.
Need a beer man need some dope.
Holy shit, the Crowd says, the cops are all over the place...
Whaaap whaaaap
Go get Hornsby out of the bar, tell him we gotta go.
Need a beer man need some dope.
I never seen Jones do that..
I seen a guy call a shot: off the rim, to the top of the backboard,
STAY THERE, roll off, through the net.

TWO GOONS
hey theres the paper boy
what the fucks he doing
lets wait for him inside
yea, too many people out here

37

BOBBIE
The kids buddies are grabbing their nuts, they are about to die
when they see this shit happening. The kid is muttering to himself
as he walks to the spot, he launches an airball, now his buds are
dissing him something serious. You got eight more to go, I remind the kid.
Jones steps behind the front of the three point line. Back door he calls.
No rim, he says. He lets it fly, boom off the back board and
straight through the hole. The kids buddies are pissing their fucking pants.
The kid lets it fly, off the backboard, through the hoop.
Shuts his buddies up. Well fucking cheer for me, assholes, he says.
Jones you know is limping, his gout is acting up again today he says.
Jones spots up about 25 feet to one side, calls back of the rim,
then front of the rim, backboard and in.
Fuck me the kid says. Jones shoots hits the back of the rim,
hits the front of the rim, hits the backboard and drops in.
Like a fucking magician man, a fucking magician.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

Cant bring your beer out here man, no glass
Need a beer and
need some dope man.
Look at this dude picking up a fag off the street
Im addicted, what the fuck can I say

38

cops like fleas out here dude

Where the fuck is Jones?
Need a beer and
need some dope man.

BOBBIE
Then it just gets ridiculous after that.
Jones is sweating now, six beers soaking though his shirt,
his eyes look like Martian eyes or something through his spectacles,
youve heard him, spectacles he calls them, the guy is blind as a bat.
He calls a hook shot from the corner, no rim.
Then Jones calls a shot that hits the backboard rolls twice around the rim
and then goes in. Then he calls a shot that hits the backboard,
rolls around the rim and falls out. He calls a shot he calls the Aussie,
hits the back of the rim bounces back to him exactly where he is standing,
he shoots again nothing but net. I am picking up fives wishing
I had asked for twenty shots. The kid aint even trying now,
the kid is fucking humiliated. Jones is ruthless man

CHORUS (the Crowd)

He is ruthless
wait for me dude
Need a beer and

39

need some dope man.

Hes a killer...
I called and she said shed meet us here
This place sucks.

A squawk and a screech. Haprie Number One appeared with Harpie Number Two from
out of the darkness behind the bar.

CHORUS (Harpie Number One)

Whos he?

CHORUS (Zim)
Leave him alone.
To himself: goons gone inside. Gotta escape.

CHORUS (Harpie Number Two)

He dead?
Hes dead.
Whoa.

BOBBIE
And then finally, after all this. He hobbles to the other end of the court like he is leaving,
taking his gout home with him.

40

CHORUS (the Crowd)

No!
Need a beer man need some dope.
I know whats gone happen
is this pecker dead
scram!

BOBBIE
So he stops, turns around. Full court, he dont call a thing.
Lets it fly, swish. Mother fucker it swished right through.
The kid and his buddies were fucking literally bowing on the tarmac to Jones,
kissing his fucking Converse.
It was history man
pure fucking history.

CHORUS (the Crowd)

Where the fuck is Jones
I just saw Jones, he aint coming tonight
what?
hes too drunk, went home
Need a beer man need some dope.
Fuck it lets go inside, someones farting a cadaver out here

41

and I aint the horse smelling it. Or maybe its these bitches.
Lets go.

HARPIES (In Unison)

Fuck you

42

ACT THREE
The Harpies Song

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Whats wrong with him?

ZIM
Nothing, just leave him alone.

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

What are you doing?

ZIM
Waiting.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Waiting for what?

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

43

Its waiting for who?

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Who you waiting for?

ZIM
No one.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Hes been waiting for us.

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

Yesssss! I remember him, from before, right?

ZIM
Right.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

You are waiting for us, right?

ZIM
Not exactly.

44

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

We have lots to offer, you know.

ZIM
I bet you do.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

She here, look, show him your mouth.
See, sooooo smooth. Feels real good.

ZIM
I bet it does.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

No teeth. Smooth as a pussy.
As smooth as a pussy with no teeth.

ZIM
I am not interested.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Ahhhh! So you say.
But there are things you have never tried

45

that you can only try with us.

HARPIES IN UNISON
Only with us.
In the park.
At a bus stop.
Inside a dumpster.
On the bus. Behind the church.
Under the bridge.
Both of us under the bridge.
My butt is real nice too.

ZIM
Hey get the fuck out of there

HARPIES IN UNISON
Hes getting a stiffie!
I bet. Come here stiffie.
Stiffie, stiffie, stiffie!
Squawk, squawk.

ZIM
Fuck you.

46

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

Yea fuck you.
Lets go back inside.
Theres a miner who needs our services.

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

My services.

HARPIE NUMBER ONE

You got the pills?

HARPIE NUMBER TWO

Yessirree!

The harpie shakes her hand inside her pocket, pillrattles: a spell about to be cast.

ZIM ( talking about Dylan)

Gotta go back inside.
Colleen too busy.
Sorry dude

Zim gives him a nudge with his shoe.

47

SAILOR FUCKOL
Ughhhhh?

ZIM
Just making sure you are still with us killer.

THE END

48