Plays 1: Weird Time Blues by Colin Peterson, George O'Sullivan (smart books to read .TXT) 📕

wave of cheap cardboard clocks are thrown from nowhere, like missiles, as the troops eat the chocolate. As the clocks are thrown, from nowhere, we hear machine-gun fire. They laugh, as they play a game, with the clocks throwing them to each other.

Fringle: (looking at the one of the clocks.) Shit, it’s almost dawn. We’ve been up all night; we’re fucked.

Lacey: (giggling.) I know; it’s some great shit - isn’t it?

Fringle: I’m impressed. (Forcefully, pinning Lacey down.) Got me horny as well, goddammit! I’m goin off sex, so you better be mean to me! Hit me punk!

Lacey: Look, we don’t all need to be token hard people and all that shit; we can be chilled heroes. We can do nothing. Let’s just get mashed and enjoy each other. (Winks at Fringle, who looks confused.) We just have to make it through alive and we should do that hassle free? Yeah? YEAH?

Fringle smiles; all cheer; many sway in a comrades' reverie, as if in a trance, humming some crappy pop tune with a bad chorus. They slowly fall onto the floor, all cuddling each other for warmth.

Shitball (licking the bowl.) My memoirs will be called -

Lacey: Yeah, whatever, shut up, or suck me while you're down there!

Fringle: Go to sleep! We’re up in half an hour.

For a beat or two, they sleep, giggling like kids at their first slumber party.
Duvac enters controlling two sock puppets. Duvac points to Lacey. The socks take a very drugged Lacey out of the barracks. They drag him out as he can barely walk. Lacey also giggles madly, whilst he is being dragged out. They exit. Then Fringle awakes, and realises Lacey is gone, but starts laughing.

Scene 7.
Infirmary. Lacey is in bed. A proper bed, but he is all drugged up. He is attached to an invisible drip. Dr. Tosst enters, with Cackman, dressed as a matron.

Tosst: I don’t know what is wrong with this man - do you? He is fine. He’s high as a kite, but he’s in okay condition. Just get him out there and get him fighting. We haven’t got the technology to help him anymore. Unless you want me to give him some fake arms? Some head-cutting - that’s fun. (Cheerfully.) Always on a learning curve with that one! (Seriously; Cackman smirks.) I could build a bio-gun on his head? (Cackman looks worried.) A flesh gun, like a phallus? You must handle those?

Cackman: My orders are to kill him - in whatever way.

Tosst: (hands Cackman an injection, slapping Lacey around as he speaks.) Well, at least poison him. He’ll go less suspiciously. You know he’ll write about these drug exploits and publish them as a series of dodgy pulp novels, with that jumpy cutting thing which I hate. And you know he’s tripping all the time - so predictable! - but it’ll be the sex, always is. Fucked. Then he’ll get rich so he can fund his drug habit. (Cheerful.) Yes, he has problems. I seriously think he likes happiness too much. It is addictive, but putting hope in chocolate is not the answer.

Cackman: Chocolate? Cadets aren’t allowed chocolate.

Tosst: I know; some use their shit as a substitute. Yes, I said excrement. No, I didn’t - I lied, sorry! I said SHIT!

Cackman: Shit?

Tosst: I know that’s what I said! SHIT! From bum-bum, you know, plop-plop ploppies, or poo-poo. (Seriously, putting on latex glove. Beat.) You don’t eat it as well do you?

Cackman: No! (Mumbling.) Only occasionally.

Tosst: Oh. I see. You’ve that problem. You’re the real Cackman, aren‘t you?

Cackman: Look, don’t fuck me around! What is so cool about this guy?

Tosst: Nothing; he has a usual persona. He is not an egotistical leader; in fact, he has no ego. He has no actual desire, just one for nothingness. He will destroy everything within his first anarchic fart. He’s a twat, basically. He’ll die in this war, but won’t be remembered. He’ll be dead in the training simulation, in fact. Actually, if I remember testing the shit he consumed, it’s a close match to your shit.

Cackman: You’ve tested it against records? You can identify shit now?

Tosst: Yes. (Takes a huge bag of post from behind Lacey’s cardboard bed. Tosst starts to open the mail, producing an array of cards, from Easter ones to Christmas ones, to birthday cards. Lacey moans, rubbing his privates now and again.) We discovered that it had been passed through the same digestive system and, at some stage, had been regurgitated. We found saliva in it and matched it to yours. A simple process really. Oh, yeah and there was a tooth in it.

Cackman: Oh. You got the tooth? My crown?

Tosst: No, it’s now a calcium supplement. We need all the help we can get, with the budget problems the colony is having financing this war. You shouldn’t have been eating your shit raw!

Lacey: (stirs; sluggish.) You fuckers! Where am I?

Tosst: It’s all right; your with Doc Tosst. We’ll get you out of this war.

Lacey: No probs. All sorted then? (Relieved.) I’m in another dimension.

Cackman: Don’t worry: we’ll pay closer attention!

Lacey: Good.I like Sicknote.

Tosst: I could use him for another prodigal experiment.

Cackman: As long as it really fucks him up. I can’t kill him. He’s too...boring. He needs to look like Vin Diesel - then I’ll have it out.

Tosst: Um. I see. I don’t understand your fetishes Cackman, but I like you, but I’ll explain myself in twelve sentences in place of one word. This is why I must have this Lacey fellow to experiment upon. We can get into -

Cackman: Yeah, I’ve seen Fantastic Voyage before, and Innerspace. Get on with it. We ain’t got no Raquel Welch or Meg Ryan around here though. I can get some make-up and -

Tosst: As you know I’m stuck for -

Cackman: Ideas?

Tosst: This Lacey fellow's odd - it's possibly due to some genetic malfunction. I’ll blame it on all that futuristic stuff - it’s easier than workin it out now! But I indoctrinated all the other cadets, but I don’t remember this one. He seems to have turned -

Cackman: We feel the unit never swallow any old propaganda. People get pissed off with hype, don’t they?

Tosst: Yes, never meets the reality, always fails. Don’t believe, erm, don’t…don’t…don’t believe..Don’t…erm - I forgot what I was saying, sorry! But whatever the response, I’m no moralist and will not judge. But this Lacey is a fool: an abstract slacker, who has no goals, but is content. Lucky bastard. We need his happiness removed.

Cackman: You’re unreal - I just want to kill him! What is your main thesis?

Tosst: We’ll all get along peacefully if we were all invisible and create an invisible society, which will destroy capitalism, without anyone knowing about it. Let the decay set in! It will help the future. The only part for us to change is to become invisible, or die. We’ll be invisible terrorists!

Cackman: You wouldn’t live with the pirates then?

Tosst: Fucking would! I love it there. I’m respected.

Cackman: I never liked you, Tosst; I don’t like doctors.

Tosst: Damn! It’s contagious!

Tosst exits. Cackman injects Lacey in both eyes and stuffs his mouth with pills, throwing some water over his face. He then tries to smother him with a pillow. Lacey is still, somehow, alive. Lacey then laughs.

Cackman: (amazed.) Why aren’t you dead? You must die! But that means I can’t kill you!

Lacey: (smiles with a mouthful of pills.)

Cackman (breaking down in tears; begging Lacey.) You must get me out of here; I must get off Colony Forty-Six, or I’ll go mad. I swear I will. I can’t keep doing Tunk’s dirty work! You know I eat my shit everyday and I’ve heard, Lacey, that you can get people out; you can get out of anything, can’t you? Help me. Please. Please!

Lacey shows his smile of pills, that are slowing dropping to the floor, but hugs a crying Cackman.

Scene 8.
Holographic simulation: Colony 46X
The Troops enter, led by Fringle. They all have toilet roll guns. Shadows enter. They appear behind the troops. The troops cannot see them. A fake jungle appears. We hear jungle sounds: monkeys wailing and screeching, birds trilling and other exotic sounds. Shitball carries a radio-pack and a first aid kit. He also carries lots of Pot Noodles and Super Noodles, he can’t carry anymore, plus puppets. Lacey enters giving out powdered drinks. They put down their guns and relax. Duvac enters in a tight fitting camouflage suit.

Duvac: What the fuck do you think you lot are doing? You total arse wipes! You have to be the first ever regiment to be the most laziest, smelliest, scum ever. You lot are a disgrace to humanity; a waste of flesh. You should rot.

A man called Choca, dressed in camouflage and covered in blood, dives onto Duvac. They struggle, but Choca stabs him with a lollipop stick. Duvac dies. Lacey and the others look amazed.

Choca: Sorry, about disturbing your rehearsal.

Lacey: (amazed.) That’s okay. They keep getting interrupted by this war anyhow!

Choca: (referring to Duvac.) Well, that guy has issues. I know you’re putting on a pantomime. That’s cool - a waste of time, but it‘s your holo-time; but I don’t care how you spend your time. Those pirates are mean. They killed my family.

Lacey: Okay, heavy. What division you in again?

Choca: I’m in...er...the...your one now…I got transferred.

Lacey: Yeah, it’s basically some fuckers won’t pay taxes or whatever and Colony 46 wants to protect it’s interests on this shit hole of a planet.

Choca: Well, it could be a lot worse; you know the shit around here, but on earth's really fucked up. I’m pleased I got off earth when I did.

Lacey: It’s nice to meet you. Do you get spaced?

Choca: Too right man. I know, let’s all go out to the entertainment complex and fuck shit up! We’ll have bit of the old anarchy; it’ll feel like home. Go fuckin’ mad.

Fringle: We’re on an exercise remember! We can’t go anywhere now we’re trapped on 46X. This place is where we must survive. We’re being watched!

Choca: Lighten the fuck up! We all need to get fucked, in more ways than one! Look, matey-o, this is a holographic simulation of an environment that doesn’t resemble where you’re going to fight. it’s a lie, obviously. that’s why I love the army! So honest - even when lying!

Fringle: I don’t want to fight any war. I know that this is not the desired situation. Like I was a lawyer. I was making good money. Then they found out I liked cocaine. They done me for smuggling, and said that I could rehabilitate in the army. I swear they’re trying to build a prison, it’s gospel man. They want us as drones.

Choca: Yeah, yeah, yeah, bleh, bloh, blaherio! It’s all the same. Instead of sulking, do something by doing nothing. The point of this simulation is to turn you into killers.

Fringle: