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

Well, you’re one.

Choca: I know. Killing is so much fun; didn’t I look cool?

Lacey: Shall we bury Duvac?

Choca: In a holo-suite? UH?!

Lacey: Well, I thought -

Choca: The guy’s a fucking hologram! Think Rimmer, but with a swollen penis!

Fringle: Sorry, I’m only just thinking of penises!

Choca: I thought you might be. The girls out there, on the front, don’t last long. They usually get raped before they get killed. And that’s just by our own troops.

Fringle: Fuck! Then I’m going to war! I really need a shag!

Lacey: I’ll fuck you, too - I don’t want you to die!

Choca: I think I better do the honours, kiddo. I’ve had a hard-on for over twenty-two years. Wanking just doesn’t do it. Nor does that quack-Doctor’s fanny machine.

Lacey looks confused.

Lacey: So you’re a patient of Dr. Tosst as well?

Choca: Yeah. I’m one of his specimens. I still have to fight, but I’m a volunteer.

Silence; a confused tension.

Shitball: What’s that?

Lacey: How do we know if you’re propaganda - another fucked up fuckin’ holographic virus! See it sounds really sad, but I want to get -

Choca: Don’t worry, amigo-comrade, I’ll get you a good primetime slot with fifteen minutes - yes, a full fifteen minutes! - of commercial breaks. You guys are completely cut off. Which is how they like you.

Lacey: I have to get out of here.

Choca: (licking his lips; attaches his gun to his genitals - it oozes a shitty, chocolate, sauce. He rubs it, smirking.) Don’t worry; I’ll take care of Cackman.

Lacey: The fucker’s on my back, dousing me with crocodile tears. He’s going kill me. He said he’s after me. He’s going to torture me, make me stick bananas up my bum - then he’ll pull my penis off. He says he eats shit, but he can eat my penis. He wants to change his name from Cackman to Dickman, so he has to eat penises to do so. It’s ritual Colony army acceptance crap. He’ll be ridiculed if he doesn’t follow it through.

Choca: (laughing.) Look, Cackman is a reject; he won’t do shit to you.

They all laugh.

Choca: (taking Lacey aside and referring to the troops.) Look at all these abstract people! You’re all fools. You need something; it’s beyond help, probably beyond drugs.

Lacey: So you’re a hologram?

Choca: Look, don’t get cocky with me, kid. I want to get you out of here, but I don’t give a fuck about you or your buddies. You middle-class rich kids are all the same - with free trade and fairer trade, boring slogans - on another world aren‘t yah? Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll jump on the anti-war bandwagon, just because your agent said so, right?

Lacey: Er, I suppose - that's a good idea…But I don’t know, I don’t care.

Choca: You can do other work on the outside.

Lacey: But we’re inside! Aren’t we?

Choca: Look, kid, I’m not buying your Ol’ Red Hippy shit; and I think you’re just in love with the idea of being a revolutionary, considering your weak as fuck. Come on, look at yourself, puny arms, mus’ have a tiny dick a lil‘ sore - (Lacey flashes at Choca, who susses smiling knowingly, but looks disgusted, retching, composes himself, wiping saliva away.) So feeble; you can’t be for real; you’re scared of a token psycho called Cackman!

Lacey: But -

Choca: (lights a smoke, but doesn't smoke it.) I don’t care what you think. I like you, but I don’t like you. Get me?

Lacey: Er -

Choca: (throws his smoke down; hugs Lacey.) I thought you would. Okay. That’s sorted, let’s have some fun!

Lacey: Okay. But Duvac is not dead!

Choca: No, he’s fine in reality. You know - outside the holographic simulation? He’s probably wanking in some office.

Lacey: Ah, that’s a relief. Even though he’s a twat I don’t want him dead. (To the rest of the Troops.) We’re going to party! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHH!

The troops cheer and exit with Choca and Lacey, leaving Duvac’s corpse and we hear ‘Chop-Sticks’ being played on a Bontempi organ submerged in water.

Scene 9.
Tunk’s office. Tunk is masturbating over an ancient Shirley Temple poster. Dr. Tosst enters, dragging Duvac’s corpse.

Tunk: (covering himself with the poster, quickly; as if nothing happened.) I’ve heard about Duvac. Don’t worry there are plenty more where h-h-h-h-h-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee (Ejaculates onto Tosst.) Come from.

Tosst: (takes off a dress underneath his white laboratory coat, and puts the dress into a carrier bag.) Well, I don’t want this batch to get any alien viruses. Alien is the wrong word to describe it - but it the only word I know how to describe it. We have problems - ours are more complex; I want to switch to the invisibility programme. It will benefit the military more than it will benefit humanity, General. You understand that don’t you?

Tunk: (zipping himself up.) Continue the Colony Forty-Six experiment.

Tosst: I think I’m having some moral issues.

Tunk grabs Tosst by the scruff of the neck.

Tunk: If you fuck this up, I’ll fuck you...up. Got that?

Tosst: You shouldn’t have done that Tunk.

Tunk: Or what?

Tosst: What?

Tunk: Don’t attempt your mindgames with me! I know you think you’re a maverick - a subversive shrink - but at the end of the day you're just a quack.

Tosst: No, I’m not a duck, General. You should know the difference between humans and animals, but knowing your ethical record you’ll kill anything!

Tunk: (releasing Tosst; trying to joke.) They have to be living, of course.

Tosst: That’s what I mean by killing! To kill something, it must be alive first.

Tunk: Why you fuddy-duddy Frankenstein wannabe! Don’t get clever-clever with me! You and your intellectual ways! I can't stand you lot! Always using long words when a simple one will do! You’re always confusing me! (Tosst looks baffled, shrugging.) Yeah! Why can't yah make a dick-fanny-butt machine? It'll be...I was only saying. Well, I know what I mean!

Tosst: Yes, of course you do.

Tunk: (grabs him by the throat again; Tosst chokes) And don’t patronise me. (Pause. Tunk releases his grip on Tosst. Tosst re-animates.) I know who done this. It was that recruit -what his name?

Tosst: Lacey?

Tunk: The troublesome one who does nothing!

Tosst: That’s impossible!

Tunk: I sense insubordination! A plot! (Grabs Tosst again; Tosst chokes again.) You’re protecting him aren’t you?

Tosst: No! (Tunk applies more pressure on Tosst.) No, what I was trying -

Tunk: (shaking Tosst, who looks dead.) Tell me! TELL ME! YOU CAN TELL ME!

Tosst:(suddenly alive, he slaps Tunk. Tunk sits, suddenly, attempting the full lotus position, but falls over. Tosst takes out a crystallized condom, rubbing it, trying to stare into it) Look, there is no war; this is phoney and we have problems convincing people - the general public that is - of our case. Brainwashing them like this won’t do any good in the long-term! It will in the short-term as they’ll all be brainwashed! I don’t know about the mid-term. It;’s too grey there.

Tunk jumps up, and grabs Tosst again, but slowly lets go of Tosst, who is exhausted, almost having a heart attack, rubbing his chest. Tunk goes to his desk drawer. He opens the drawer and takes out a bottle of hydrochloric whisky. He closes the drawer loudly. As he does so, we hear the clang of empty bottles in the drawer. Tunk drinks the whisky neat. Tosst rest on a chair, trying to get his strength back. There is an uncomfortable, tense silence.

Tosst: Look, Lacey is drugged up to the eye balls. He thinks he’s not on earth, but some colony on a faraway a planet. He calls it Colony Forty-Six. He thinks that we have some simulation: a virtual reality programme called Colony Forty-Six-X, where he is solider and must survive, it if or his training to fight against pirate terraformers on the same planet. He sounds very confused. I shouldn’t have given him the pills. I thought St. John’s Wort would’ve been enough. But then again, I did let him watch The Lawnmower Man then The Matrix. Shit! He’s already watched Tron this afternoon. No wonder he’s fucked. It’s my fault. I didn’t mean to give him those cheap mushrooms either; but I got stoned and a bit drunk and one thing led to another. You know how it goes? I think I’m going to have to refer him to another specialist and remove his brain.

Tunk: So Lacey is innocent?

Tosst: Yes, of course. Unless he has the powers of astral projection! (Tosst laughs; Tunk is not amused.) Well, we all know it will be some regurgitated movie anyhow. As long as some pop-tart gets everything out, I don’t give shit. Call it art and I’ll buy it over the net - that’s my motto! And I’ve never been arrested.

Tunk: I’m sick of your types! We’re making no progress! All you do is drug up the troops and members of the public and give me a load of statistics and mindless bullshit! All these words! All fancy words and long-winded terms! This is all stuff we already know! I swear you’re just recycling old information!

Tosst: Why yes, of course - how will we make a living? I might be wrong. I hate being wrong; I always like to be right.

Tunk: Well, that’s wrong!

Tosst: No, I’m right!

Tunk: No, I’m right - your attitude is wrong!

Tosst: I’m right - your attitude is wrong!

Tunk: Wait! This is going no-where. Shall we agree we’re both right and everyone else is wrong?

Tosst: That could be right, but does sound -

Tunk: Good. If you were going to continue to disagree with me, then I would’ve killed you!

Tosst: Ah, I see. Do you want a hand, General?

Tunk drops his trousers, and sits behind his desk; Tosst puts a rubber glove on his right hand and starts to give Tunk's head a rub. Tunk looks baffled, but resumes masturbating, hoping no-one notices. Cackman enters.

Tosst: Ah, Cackman! Our longest surviving patient! What can we do for you?

Cackman: I have to say that I’m leaving the institution. You’ve helped me a lot, but I am going. I’m not addicted to your shit anymore. I am addicted to my own shit. I have my shit and that’s all I need! You can’t keep me here against my will. I’m a volunteer remember?

Pause.

Tunk: Well, this is a surprise. I take it you’ve had words with Lacey?

Cackman: No. I haven’t. It just came into my head that I can leave any time I want. I want to live a healthy life; I need to go down to the offy to get some booze and fags and have a laugh again. I know this guy who does...I haven’t laughed in years! (Struggles to laugh, smiles.) ooh, that felt good. People won’t go near me though - I don’t know why.