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Masturbators of Horror

MASTURBATORS OF HORROR
A play of much madness and more sin by Richard Clare

SCENE 1

The curtains are drawn or the main stage is hidden in darkness. Nothing happens for a while. In the audience is an obvious member of the show. He is dressed very strangely and there is also a light trained on him. He wears a suit and trenchcoat. He has a black towel over his head, obscuring his face. On top of this towel is a small wig. One of his hands is always jammed in his side coat pocket. Every time he speaks the light on him shines brighter. He pipes up(his voice sounds like Vincent Price).

STRANGE MAN
(turning to the person next to him) Excuse me Sir Madame, sorry to bother you. Do you know when this is supposed to start? (regardless of what the audience member says he replies with:) 5 minutes ago! Unbelievable! I paid good money for this. (he waits for about another minute then turns to the person on the other side) Excuse me Sir Madame, sorry to bother you. How long have you been waiting? (waits for answer) 6 minutes! That’s outrageous! I’ve a good mind to go and complain. (waits for another minute) That’s it I’ve had enough, I’m leaving! (He stands up in his chair then gradually sinks down until he’s out of sight, he then sneaks under the chairs, or whatever the space allows, until he’s in front of the audience.)

STRANGE MAN
(standing before the audience he chooses someone in the fourth row, raises the arm not in his pocket and points menacingly at them, disturbing music, like Hello Zepp from Saw, plays as he does so)Ladies and gentlemen. Do not be alarmed. (music stops, turning away from the audience he removes the wig ,he turns and faces the audience triumphantly) I am the man you came to see. (he turns away again in a don’t look at me phantom of the opera type way) Although you may not see all of me. (he turns back even more triumphantly) It is I! Mesmo the Magnificent! Hypnotist to the stars!

Some smoke pumps out from somewhere.

MESMO
I’ve done all the greats – Larry Semon! Agnes Ayers! Mabel Normand! And look at them now! I’ve played to Presidents and Kings! Played golf with them too! They always win cause they always cheat! You know what else? They always ask for their money back after the show. Because that’s how you stay at the top. By being a cheap bastard! I’ve played to Dalai Lamas and real lamas, at least the camel has the decency to look you in the eye! I’ve played to fakirs and hakirs. Fakers and salt shakers! Teen-agers and Old-timers. I’ve put my abilities to the test before assemblies of the top scientific minds in the country. Terrible audience. Always interupting the show, walking out, making loud sounds of disbelief. Never again with that. I’ve done royalty. Even played to the Queen of England once. Very nice lady. But tonight I’ll read the fate of you – the public! Your fate is in my hands! Well…(does Phantom of the opera thing again, looks at good hand) My hand. Women and men…(triumphant twirl)

Light shines on the audience.

MESMO
Behold the mind!Westinghouse with tremulations of nervous agony at the infinite wattage of the mind! Feel the icy cold sweat of fear drip down your back as your very soul is audited by a ruthless accountant of the mind! Feel the warm shameful smell of fear drip down the back of your legs at the unholy appetites lurking behind the gaze of the person sitting behind you!

Light shines on one audience member in particular.

MESMO
Secrets. Big ones. Small ones. White ones. Black ones. Secrets that are open. Secrets that are closed. Secrets that are ajar. Secrets you show. Secrets you know. Secrets God knows. Secrets you mutter in your prayers. Secrets you keep locked up beneath the stairs. The telling secrets, the ones you tell your lover or your priest or anyone who will listen when you’re drunk. The thinking secrets, the ones you can’t tell your shrink or your diary, the ones you couldn’t say aloud even if you were in a coffin buried alive. In case the coffin was bugged. They cannot leave your mind anymore than your organs can leave your body. Then there are the unknown secrets. They are known only through their effects on the world around them. Like electrons. But despite the number of new layers panstacked apon them, they are still owned by their owner. Like the princess and the pea. But there is nothing unknown to me…all your secrets are belong to me! Mesmo the Magnificent! The Houdini of Blackmail! The Fred Astaire of Extortion! The FDR of Interrogation! The Sherlock Holmes of Detection! No wait, that doesn’t work. The Einstein of detection!

Light starts randomly jumping all over the audience. Mesmo jumps around too, pointing in general directions into the audience.

MESMO
You are impotent! You are a virgin! You wish you were the other gender! You haven’t felt anything in years except for an indistinct satisfaction that the end of each day brings you closer to the end of a life that has become simply a catalogue of routine motions such as feeding yourself and going to the toilet. You hate your kids! You covet your neighbour’s kids! You wept into a glass of wine last Saturday watching a children’s film because of the lost innocence you will never recapture and cannot even recall. You lead a double life, in one of these lives you are a Morris dancer. In the other you are a law-abiding citizen. Oh hold it! Damn it!

He starts to writhe around on the floor gripping his head.

MESMO
Oh God not all at once please. Too many minds. Can’t take it.

He gets to his knees.

MESMO
It’s okay I’m okay. I was just getting warmed up. Just getting the motor running. Let’s go here we go. (massages his temples wildly, still on his knees instead of pointing he just kind of makes sweeping gestures towards the audience) Ehhhh…ehhh wait for it. Oh okay! I got it. You…are a hypocrite. You lie. You use people. You ignore bad things you see happening. You are lazy. You exaggerate your accomplishments. You think that you are better than everyone else. You cheat at golf. Uhhh uhhh you’re a bad person. You’re all bad people. You sicken me. Oh no.

He sticks his head into the lap of one of the audience members and fake vomits(well it’s all fake I guess but you know what I mean)

MESMO
I’m so sorry. I feel better though. Felt like my head was going to explode. Did my head explode?

A woman sitting next to the vomit victim, who is a plant, lifts up the towel on his head to look underneath.

WOMAN
Here let me check.

MESMO
No you don’t understand!

The woman screams in an over the top hands on cheeks B-movie kind of way then faints dead away.

MESMO
I tried to warn her. I tried.

MESMO
The brain has it’s own defence mechanism you see. It could not process what it saw, after all it was not meant for human eyes, so it shut down to protect her. (He leans over her) I’m sorry my dear. Your mind is at peace now. Bloop bloop Ah sleeping beauty will I suck the poison from thy breast? Bloop bloop (he strokes her breast) (stands up) Let this be a warning for all of you! Do not play peekaboo with the abyss! (he starts to make a kind of whistling kissing noise of the type you use to beckon pets) Here pussy, here puss puss. Psshhhffff Psshhfff.

Two muscular topless men appear (what?), they have little bowties, their faces are painted to look like cats. They also have tails. One has dark coloured face paint(SHADOW) the other a reddish colour(HELL). SHADOW moves his body in a seductive, graceful fashion reminiscent of a panther. HELL doesn’t.

MESMO
Hell, Shadow, my feline aids come to me, your master has need of you.

SHADOW
Yesssssssssss Masssssssssster.

HELL
Yes Master.

MESMO
It seems curiosity has killed the cat, again. (He points to the fainted woman)

SHADOW slinks down to where the woman is and picks up her legs, HELL walks down and grabs her arms.

MESMO

Take her to the revivification chamber. When she awakens perform the sanity test, if she passes give her a partial refund and send her on her way.

SHADOW
Are you quite sssssssssure Masssssssster?

MESMO
Hmmm I see what you mean, okay cancel that give her a free ticket to the next show. But don’t actually give her the free ticket just tell her it will be waiting for her and she can pick it up.

HELL
Which she never will.
MESMO
Which she never will.

SHADOW
And if ssssssshe failssssssss to passsssssssssssssssssssssssss the tesssssssst Masssssssster, what then?

MESMO
Then you know what to do. I won’t have that on my conscience. Not again.

SHADOW
Assssss you wisssssh Masssssster.

HELL
How does the sanity test work again?

SHADOW
Itsssssss done on a pointssssssss sssssssysssssssstem.

MESMO
That’s right it’s done on a points system.

HELL
Points system?

MESMO
That’s right it’s…let me see. 1 point for drooling. If there’s enough drool to fill a small cup that’s a point. She may have a little drool when she wakes up that’s normal. It’s 1 point for babbling incoherently. Incoherently means, she doesn’t finish her sentence, she doesn’t get to the point, she repeats phrases in a loop. So 1 point for babbling, same goes for bibbling. So babbling, bibbling and dribbling.

HELL
What if she dribbles a basketball? Sorry just a joke.

MESMO
No that’s okay. But any other word ending with bbling is not.

HELL
Wobbling?

MESMO
Yes involuntary wobbling.

HELL
Cobbling?

SHADOW
Don’t be sssssssilly.

MESMO
Well if after she wakes up the first thing she does is start repairing her shoe then yes that is a point.

SHADOW
What about tribbling?

MESMO
5 points.

HELL
How many points do you need to be insane?

MESMO
Five. The other points are 1 point for Willful Humour, 2 points for Prideful Distemper, 3 points for Gender Dysphoria, 4 points for Oppositional Defiant Disorder and 5 points for Demonic Possession. I forget the rest. Use your own discretion.

HELL
Yes Master.

MESMO
Take her away. I have a show to do.

They carry her towards the exit.

MESMO
Ladies and Gentlemen…

HELL
Oh Master…

MESMO
What is it?

HELL
What if she doesn’t wake up?

MESMO
(Stops and thinks) The incinerator.

HELL
Right. Do you have the key for that?

SHADOW
You don’t need a key.

HELL
Okay. Okay seeya later.

MESMO
And bring me back some milk.

SHADOW
Yesssss Massssster.

They exit with the woman.

MESMO
Don’t worry ladies and gentlemen she’ll receive the finest in medical care. Bloop bloop yes she’ll receive the care that only a thousand medical degrees can provide ha ha bloop bloop. Medical care me flock of oysters, or perhaps I should say medical scare, eh? Who here has been done harm by the hypo(pronounced like hypodermic)-cratical latex examiners of the medical amateurism? Raise your hands if you still have the functioning skeleton, musculature, blood supply and central nervous system to do so. You don’t need to raise your hands, I can see it in the pronounced curve of your spine, the creamed meat in your left face or the way you’re trying to shoplift your stomach. Do you know why they wear gloves my friends, they say it’s to protect you, to protect you from germs, but have you ever seen a germ?, the answer is no, apparently you need to have a bunch of letters after your name before you can, a case of the Doctor playing for Nero methinks. The real reason they wear them is so they don’t leave fingerprints at the scene of the crime, your body! It’s like my Mother used to say, before she died, in hospital, was there a doctor in the room? No! He was performing a gynocological exam on a nurse, with his cock, in the same room as a dead body! With his pager turned off! She used to say, “A dokter tsuersht shnaydn iz tsu dem baytl” which is Yiddish for “A surgeon’s first incision is to the wallet.” Ah doctors, what is it with them? Idiopathic, beak-faced cartilidge carpenters the lot. What’s with the unnecessary womb removing? It’s like there’s a blackboard in the break room with the number of wombs they’ve removed next to their names. And first prize is a Cadillac Romero. Is there a doctor in the house? If there is keep it to yourself. I’ll hang you from the rafters by your stethoscope. Thinking about doctors sickens the mind, we take our pockmarked, polluted, perforated shitcan body to them to change our flaky sheets, strain our soap soup and rake our aerterial gutters. In short to give us a nice hot shower on the inside. Imagine our disappointment when we find the same weak pathetic human body dying behind a white coat. Outliving so many patients they start to believe the coat is what has kept them alive, they think the coat must be leadlined and so keeps out the sickness radiation. They tell no one this in fear of a world where everyone wears the coat and they are out of a job. They wear the coat at all times. They wear it to bed covered in thick pyamas maing them sweat in the summer. They stop making love to their wives. They take up golf. The absurd golf clothes make it easy to cover up. They wonder if the other doctors are wearing their coats too but are afraid to ask. In the end they die on the 12th hole of heat exhaustion which they diagnose as lead-poisoning. But they were wrong, there was no lead in the coat, only the starch of the dried fluids of the people they failed to save. It’s the same kind of thing with policemen. Physician heal theyself, without anaesthetic.

He goes and sits on the stage. He seems deep in thought.

MESMO
Bloop bloop What if they know the real reason I despise men of medicine. Because I went to all the finest doctors in the land, from the specialists at the Mayo clinic to the most highly qualified witch doctor of Borneo and even he fled in terror at what’s underneath this hood! The only one who stood his ground was that wise old Chinese herbalist, Xu, he looked at me with his slanty cataracts and told me what I already knew in my heart, there is no cure on this earth! That’s when my thoughts turned to the forbidden realm of the dark arts for answers! Oh that poor woman, even now her beautiful body is probably being returned to the ashes from whence it came. Why! Why didn’t I wear the helmet tonight? It was just really stuffy last night. And it’s a lot handier if I want to scratch my face with the hood. And for that another woman had to die before her time! And I’m responsible. Her curiosity yes, I mean I’m not wearing this for fashion what did you expect to be under here? You know it’s going to be night of the living dead under here bloop bloop. Wait a minute, you all laughed? Bloop bloop they must have heard my thoughts bloop bloop. Can you hear my thoughts? Bloop bloop it must be the psychic field bloop bloop It must be the psychic field. Bloop bloop Can you hear me now? Bloop bloop Okay. Yes it’s as I suspected. Do not be alarmed, it’s never happened before but it’s not unexpected. Your non-psychics brains are matching up their brainwaves to the frequency of my more powerful psychic ones, rather like the radio signal from a nearby tower, in this case my brain, cancelling out one from far away, your brains. Still don’t understand? How else can I explain it…Maybe it would help to think of my brain like a powerboat and your brains like waterskiers. Now by himself the waterskier couldn’t possibly propel himself through the water at 50 miles per hour, but put him in the boat’s wake, in this case the wake of my powerful psychic emanations, and it becomes possible. Now it shouldn’t be dangerous, but if I were any of you I wouldn’t leave the theatre until the show is over, if your brain loses the signal it might shut down. You’d be brain dead. Bloop bloop and that would be a trip to the incinerator bloop bloop Ah he, he he, well there’s no point hiding it from you now. Yes that would mean a trip to the incinerator. Bloop bloop I’m a fruit bloop bloop I’m not a fruit ladies and gentlemen, that’s just something I don’t want you to hear that’s why it popped into my head. Bloop bloop I love men bloop bloop That’s not true. I love my wife. I’m happily married. Bloop bloop I wish my wife had a big sausage, I’d suck on that thing all night long bloop bloop It’s like trying not to think of a pink elephant, you know. Bloop bloop why did you say pink? Bloop bloop Just the surface of the mind folks, full of random meaningless junk, pay it no mind. Bloop bloop Imagine that pink elephant trunk up your arse eugh yeah bloop bloop Goddamn it get a hold of yourself! (slaps himself) Bloop (slaps himself again, this time harder) That’s better. I’ll have to have a talk with my brain later ha ha hmm.

MESMO
The problem ladies and gentlemen, is not to be found in diet or phrenology. It is not gravy that will send you to the grave or bumps on your head that will bump you off. Nor is it the poor saps in your family tree. The problem lies in your future.The thing that causes all the trouble, that causes the sleepless nights, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, the feeling that everywhere you walk there’s a crane with a grand piano following overhead, sometimes it’s ghosts but mostly it’s your future. You know what your future is, you can feel it in your bones, the horrors that await you. But because you can’t see it clearly you are powerless to do anything about it. I can see it for you. Not through tea leaves or lines in the hand, it’s as clear to me as something on the silver screen. (He pauses, distracted) One moment.

He moves through the audience as if following a sound. Finding it he places his ear next to the head of an audience member.

MESMO
Could I have silence please? I’m getting something. (He speaks as if hearing a voice from inside the head, it’s like one side of a telephone conversation.) Can you hear me?..Yes I can…My name is Mesmo…No it’s my stagename…I can’t tell you…I don’t know I’ll ask. (addresses audience member) What is your name, please? (wait for real answer,say he says “Eric”) (back to head)Well, your conscious part is called Eric, perhaps you could be called Unconsious Eric…No…That’s my name…I’m using it…No…It’s too similar…It comes from mesmerise…It means hypnotise…It means eh to put in to a deep sleep…I suppose you’re all symbols…Of course…Not for you I suppose…Tell me about it…Really?..(to audience member) Sorry about this.(back to head)What would you like?..I don’t have a burger…I can think of one if you like…I see…Well I can’t help you there…Really?…Really? Never?..Yes he looks like the type alright…Anyway I better go…You too talk to you soon. (to audience member) Sorry again.

Gets in front of crowd again.

MESMO
Sorry folks just talking to a subconscious. Very irritating. Endless questions like talking to a small child. Now then who will be the first? He who was last shall now be first. Who will take the plunge? Don’t be shy come on? Roll up roll up. See the cards before they are dealt! Spit in destiny’s cowl. Satisfaction guaranteed. Not a legally-binding guarantee. Management is not responsible for any emotional damages caused by future knowledge. Come on now. You Sir? You Madame? You whatever you are? Let’s see those hands, flippers, whatever you’ve got. (he keeps trying to get people to put their hands up, hopefully someone does.) Yes you! Let’s hear it for our brave seeker into mystery. A round of applause. (he goes over to them) What is your name? (say they say Bob) Wait don’t tell me! Is it…Rob? No? Oh well I was close. How about it then? Are you willing to take the pristine path to the crystal city of tomorrowtropolis? (he puts his hand on one side of the person’s face, his fingers at the temples, ear and cheekbones, he puts the other person’s hand on his face in the same way) My thoughts to your thoughts. (he waits a while then slowly withdraws from them) No there’s no way I’m doing that one. (he moves to someone else and does the mind meld again) God no that makes the last one look good. (to someone else) That was just a cape fluttering in space. What in blazes? There must be someone. (to still someone else, must be a male) Okay you’ll do. What’s your name(say mike)?Are you interested in science, mike? (if he says yes great if he says no:) Your conscious says no but your subconscious cries out in the affirmative. Masturbate much, mike? That’s good. You know children shouldn’t play with dead things don’t you? (puts a finger to Mike’s lips) Shhh no more words. Let’s look to the future, all the way to the year 2012!(year is always 2012 no matter what)

A thunder clap is heard, lights go out in audience area, curtain pulls back on stage(or whatever is possible) MESMO sits near to Mike while the scene plays if he can do so comfortably and unobtrusively, otherwise he comes and sits at the corner of the stage area.

SCENE 2

SCENE 2

Scene opens on a kitchen. It is a small dingy apartment but the owner keeps it as clean as possible, with everything in it arranged neatly. This man’s home is his castle. VIC and his companion, FRANKIE, are having dinner together. The table is a cheap foldout one but on it is expensive looking china and silverware(some extra forks with no apparent use) and an antique candelabra, unlit. There is a bottle of wine on the table, it seems to be hooked up to some machine, like a metal hand. It is an automatic pourer, an unpatented invention of VIC , he is in his sixties, he has on a wide-brimmed floppy navy hat, he is dressed for the occasion, a colourful but tasteful scarf on top of a mostly white ensemble a white shirt with big lapels, cream waistcoat and beige flared trousers, he also wears black insulated rubber gloves. He sounds a bit like Kenneth Williams and is a bit like a gay man on a British 70s sitcom, think Mr. Humphries from Are You Being Served? FRANKIE is young and muscular with long blonde hair, his once model good looks have been ruined by a plummeting intellect that has rendered his features mongoloid. He wears a green t-shirt featuring Kermit the Frog which is too small for him, a beanie cap with a little propeller on top, very large orthapedic shoes and an Incredible Hulk backpack, he’s wearing a bib and his chair is a bit like a high chair. In front of him is an undrunk glass of wine. FRANKIE has suffered so many electrical shocks that his mind has grown sluggish and the best he can do is groan like Boris Karloff. The whole thing is loosely based on Frankenstein, in case you hadn’t realised.(there are sometimes what sound like mistakes in VIC’s parts, these are intentional to give his speech a rambling chaotic sound.)

FRANKIE
Mmm.

VIC
Oooh it’s alive. I was beginning to think I was having dinner with a corpse. Honestly I haven’t been able to get a sound out of you all evening. I mean really I go to all this trouble and all you can do is sit there staring. Look at all this, all new things, new clothes, new silverware, real silver mind you. If King Edward himself came through the door I could pull out a chair for him quite happily. Silver doesn’t grow on trees you know, oh no some poor bugger has to mine it. All so the rich can feel their money in their gobs with every bite. I ask you. Take my father, poor blighter, he was pit yacker, miner, you know, coal it was. Oh he would come home in a state. Blind as a mole he was, and his hankerchiefs, would you believe it? You’d swear he’d been using them to clean the chimney. And how he would whinge, as soon as he got in the door. No wonder I couldn’t wait to leave that house. Whinge to high heaven he would. About oh Billy Biggins had his spine broke or Johnny Binbag inhaled some gas and snuffed it. And to listen to him there was a cavein every lunchtime. I wish he’d a caught one. Would’ve saved on funerial expenses that’s for sure. Aren’t I wicked? Nooo it was black lung what got him in the end. It’s like Tutenkamen’s curse. Once it gets in there there’s no getting rid of it.

FRANKIE
Mmm mummy.

VIC
Well old Mum she’ll put up with anything. She’d have to to put up with me all this time. Offer it up to the cross that’s what she always says. More wine?

FRANKIE stares blankly.

VIC
Are you sure? It might help galvanize you.

FRANKIE continues to stare blankly.

VIC
It’s Villa Diodati 1816. The things I had to do to get my hands on it, you don’t want to know.

More blank staring.

VIC
Okay. I think I’ll have one more glass. It’s my only weakness.

He presses a button on the table and the automatic pourer goes to work, jerkily pouring out a generous draught, another press turns it off. Not a drop is wasted.

VIC
It is a special occasion after all. Birthdays. I never celebrate them as a rule. I mean who wants to be reminded? Do you know I’m twenty years older than my father was when he kicked the bucket? God give him peace. I mean granted I don’t have coal dust in me lungs but still. Makes you think. I tell you it sends a shiver down my spine. Oooh I feel all wobbly.

FRANKIE
Mmm.

VIC
You’re lucky. You’re just starting out. You have your whole life ahead of you.

Silence for a while.

VIC
Here I’m not chucking that food in bin so you better eat up there’s a good lad. Hoi, I want to see that eaten or no desert. What’s the matter with you? You won’t find better eel in aspic. Caught it fresh meself. Fished it out of resevoir so I did. It had grown plump on tap water. I’ve given you the best bits. You have the body I only have the frill.

FRANKIE
Dead?

VIC
Course it’s dead what do you expect? It’s no good trying to eat it whilst it’s alive is it? I mean really. Killing it is no small task either I can tell you. They don’t say slippery as an eel for nothing.

FRANKIE
Good.

VIC
Yes it’s good.

FRANKIE picks up the eel by the tail.

VIC
Not with your hands! Not with your hands!

FRANKIE
(Drops the eel and makes scared groan, he holds out his hands like they’ve just been burned)

VIC
(His voice changes, becoming more sinister)
We don’t do that. (He gets up and goes to a drawyer) How many times have I told you?

FRANKIE
(Another louder scared groan) No! me sorry.

VIC
Not yet you’re not.

Vic opens the drawyer and takes out…a towel. He goes over to FRANKIE and starts vigorously wiping his hand with the towel.

VIC
(Back to “normal”)
Am I raising a savage? Answer me that.

FRANKIE
Me bad.

VIC
You bad. You very bad. I’ve a good mind to put on the bad boy’s chair. Is that what you want?

FRANKIE
(Very scared groan, covers his head with his hands)

VIC
Well I suppose it is your birthday. I could show leniency. Look at those eyes. So filled with unreasoning fear. Alright since it is your birthday. I’ll let you away with it.

FRANKIE
(Confused groan, lowers hands a bit.)

VIC
This time! Ha ha!

FRANKIE
(Scared groan, raises hands then confused groan and lowers hands a bit) Friend?

VIC
Friend. (He kisses him on the forehead then a second later wipes the spot with the towel.) Now I want to see that plate cleaned. With this, please. (Takes a fork and places it in his hand)

FRANKIE does what passes for thinking for him for a second, he then raises the fork to stab VIC and lets out a battle cry.

FRANKIE
Eughhhhhhhhh!

VIC
No on the plate.

FRANKIE
Ogh(Groan that sounds like “oh”)

He redirects his attention to the plate and starts stabbing at it with the fork. Finally he skewers a piece of food. He lifts it up then tries to take it off with his other hand.

VIC
Ah ah ah. In your mouth.

He starts to bring the food to his mouth then when it reaches a certain level he threatens VIC again and lets out another war cry.

FRANKIE
Eughhhhhhhhh!

VIC turns the fork,still in FRANKIE’S hand, away from himself and puts the food into FRANKIE’s mouth. The warcry stops.

FRANKIE
Eughhhh – (chomp)(he makes a face like he’s just tasted an eel in aspic ie revulsion)

VIC
Good!

FRANKIE
Mmm good.

VIC goes and puts the towel back in the drawyer, while he’s not looking FRANKIE let’s the piece of food fall back onto the plate. VIC goes back and sits down. VIC finishes his plate. FRANKIE pretends to eat. Suddenly VIC seems to notice something which sends him into a rage. He stands up, yelling and pointing with his knife.

VIC
Oh my God! You monster! It was the wrong fork! It – oh wait (looks again) – no it wasn’t. Sorry. (sits back down calmly)

FRANKIE starts to drool.

VIC
Don’t drool, precious.

He sucks it up.

VIC
That’s better…I’m ever so sorry I shouted. I know I shouldn’t it’s just my temper. You know how I am. And I shouldn’t have called you that word. I am sorry, proper I am. People have called me all sorts of names. Awful, hurtful names. Names I wouldn’t use on my own worst enemy. And you never forget, do you? I mean inverted, what does that mean? Everything I’ve got is the right way round I can assure you…well it shan’t happen again. I’ll bite my tongue next time.

VIC
Speaking of worst enemies. I had another run in with mine today. Roger, who else? The man whose made it his mission to make my life miserable. That man is my personal dragon. And I’d slay him and all cept everyone’d know who done it. It’s no secret there’s no love loss between us. Not that that man is capable of love. He wouldn’t know love if it bit him in the arse. Pardon the expression. He’s a small dark tic of a man. And he’s infested with insects. I’ve worked closely with him so don’t tell me I’m imagining it. All under his hair and his skin too. He’s doesn’t care. I don’t mind if some people want to live in filth in their own home but at work there’s other people to think about. I have to be very careful he doesn’t go anywhere near my tools. That’s why I keep them secured in my locker all day. More bother for me but it’s worth it to keep his oiley, slimey hands off them. Ehhh I shudder to think. Puts me off my eel.

FRANKIE
Kill me.

VIC
Oh I’ve thought about it I won’t say I haven’t. It would solve all my problems. And dare I say make this world a slightly better, cleaner place. If it wasn’t for him I’d love going to work. He ruins everything. If I have one happy thought I’ll turn and see his blasted face and that’s the end of that. Then all I can think about is him for the rest of the day, and sometimes when I go home aswell. Sometimes in bed. It’s so strange, why would you think about someone you hate? I avoid him in life but he follows me home in my thoughts. It would be an easy thing to get rid of him. It took me five or ten minutes to work it out.

He leans in to FRANKIE and whispers conspiratorily.

VIC
All you do is find out what board he’s working on and move around the casings. Course you’d have to get there right before him but for whoever checked afterwards it would just like he did it and died from his own incompetence. Human error. Tragedy. Probably wouldn’t even be an investigation. Just a few questions with prepared answers. But here’s the clever part. I wouldn’t cry at his funeral. See everyone knows I hated his guts so if I’m there blubbering away it would look too suspicious.

Leans back and stops whispering.

VIC
Of course I’d never do it. All human life is sacred, even his. That’s if he is human. I have real doubts sometimes. If he was some kind of insect then it wouldn’t be more wrong then killing a fly. He’d look human when he was dead. Except of course if they cut him open and found all the flies wriggling inside. I think his brain is just a big ball of earthworms. But try explaining that to a judge. No it’s that five or ten minutes when I’d have to leave my post. If anyone saw me the jig would be up. Then they’d start asking questions and it would be all over from there. I couldn’t take an interrogation. Not being able to go to the toilet when I wanted or watch my Star Trek. Oh well. He’s so careless it will probably happen sooner or later without me intervening. He only wears his gloves half the time. Thinks he’s tough. I wonder how tough he’d be with a thousand volts passing through him.

FRANKIE
Please.

VIC
What was it this time? The same thing as always. Him criticising my work. The gall. I’m the glue holding that place together. And he’s the self-appointed boss. Instead of doing his work he critiques mine. And how many times have I had to clean up after his messes? I could have said it but I kept my mouth shut. Just smiled and nodded. I knew if I started talking I wouldn’t be able to stop. (He starts talking quickly without pausing,the words running together) He says my work is sloppy hescallingmesloppythatsajokeatleastIhaveashowerbeforeIcometoworkanddontsmelllikeeggsheonlygetstobebosscausehesgoodatjokesandsmilingandbutteringuptopeopletogetwhathewantsandallthingsthathavenothingtodowithworkandthemistakeshemakeshemustberesponsiblefor100sofpoundsfromburnoutpartshewronglyinstalledsometimeshedoesntknowthedifferencebetweenacanddcactuallyscratchthatidontthinkheknowsthedifferencebetweenrightandwrongimeanonandoffbuthedoesntknowrightfromwrongeitherhesjustinitforthemoneyhedoesntcareaboutprovidinggoodcleanelectrictytohomesaroundthecountryifitwereuptohimwedallbelivinginthestoneagereadingbycandlelightwhile sits he sits around while I while I…

VIC closes his eyes and starts rubbing his face and head, he makes pained sounds.

VIC
(Speaking normally again.)
I’m sorry I must be boring you to tears. Going on and on about work. This is supposed to be your day. What did you do today?

FRANKIE gives no form of answer.

VIC
Slept all day again? Lazy bones. Lucky for you I work putting food on the table for both of us. I am the eel winner. Do you see that light?(he indicates the light bulb) It comes out of my hands. Men like me make electricity. We cook it up. We fish it from the water. We catch it like a butterfly from the air. And we serve it to you. It’s like I’ve given you two meals. Light and eel. You can read your mills and boon at 12 O Clock at night and the only fire on the pages is the prose. But you give me something more powerful that fills me up with more juice than the national grid. You give me…(he searchs for the world) togetherness. Frankie, you light up my life.

He tries to take FRANKIE’S hand but the creature keeps pulling away. He tries a couple of times to get FRANKIE to hold hands but it’s not working. VIC gets up and leaves the room. FRANKIE is left alone. He looks around him to see if he is really alone then he gets out of his chair and into the other one. He sits for a while, happy. Then he hears a noise from backstage and hurries(which for him isn’t that fast) to sit in his own chair. In the process he knocks over his glass of wine. He tries to hide the broken pieces under the tablecloth, he stops while holding one dagger like piece and tries to remember something, he then puts the piece in his backpack. One small piece is left on the floor where it looks like VIC might be able to see it. Just then VIC can be heard returning. FRANKIE mops up the spilled wine using his butt then sits back into the chair. VIC reenters and stands behind FRANKIE who cannot see him but knows he is there. We see what he has brought with him, a hammer and nails! The hammer and nails in one hand, he flips what appears to be a common lightswitch with the other. As soon as he does the lights flicker and there is a dramatic effect on FRANKIE, his whole body goes as tense as iron and his face becomes a mask of pain. He is being electrofried! (accompanied by a sound effect so it’s clear) His high chair is also an electric one. After a few seconds he lowers the switch and FRANKIE slumps unconcious.

VIC
500 volts. The same as our friend Mr. Eel.

VIC goes over to him and checks that he is really out. Frankie has left most of the eel, VIC picks it up by the tip, tilts his head back, dangles it over his mouth then sucks the whole thing down.

VIC
Mmm very nice.

Realising he’s used his hands he goes to the press, gets out the towel, dries his hands and puts it back. He then goes back and positions FRANKIE’S limp right hand in the center of the table, lines up the nail and starts to hammer it in, it only takes a few whacks and it’s firmly in. He leaves the room to return the tools. Comes back a moment later and sits down again. Shortly after FRANKIE comes to. He tries to move his hand and finds he can’t. He realises what has happened and starts to bawl and wail, tugging at his hand to no avail. As he is wailing he collapses, knees to the floor, facing the table.

VIC
SIT DOWN!

He does what he is told, gets back in the chair but keeps on crying. He cries and sobs at the top of his lungs. VIC waits patiently for him to stop. This should be played like a real horror scene, not for laughs! Finally he is cried out. VIC gently takes the fingers of the nailed hand.

VIC
Listen to me. I’ve gone all soppy. Please don’t laugh at me. I couldn’t take it if you did. I mean I know you feel like I do. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. I just want things to be out in the open with us. No hiding. Sometimes people get scared of their true feelings. They run away. They don’t want to open up. Men aren’t supposed to talk about their feelings I know. I know you’re the strong and silent type. But you don’t have to be strong with me.

He gets to this feet and stands facing the audience to deliver an impassioned monologue. While his back is turned FRANKIE will carefuly unzip his backpack and take out the shard of glass, hiding it in his good hand.

VIC
Before you came here I had no one. I was alone. Man will not associate with me. All my life I’ve wanted a friend.

FRANKIE
Friend.

VIC
Here goes. When I was a nipper there was this boy on my road, Matthew. His father was a bricklayer. I used go round his house sometimes and we’d masturbate together. We called it our willy race. I always let him win. I wanted to see him reach the finish line before I did. It’s one of only two happy memories of childhood. The other one is the time I got seperated from my mum in Butlin’s and a strange man gave me some free toffee. Looking back he probably only did it so he could fiddle with me and did a runner when he saw my mum. I just thought it was a reward for all my suffering. When Mum asked where I got it I told her I found it. She wasn’t one bit pleased. She would have pulled it straight out of my gob and into the bin if there weren’t people watching. She was one for keeping up appearances was my Mum. As it was she did wollop me senseless when we got home, for putting dirty things in mouth, she said. If she only knew. Even then I knew the real reason, it was for having something nice. Something she never had when she was my age. Anyway after Matthew’s Dad found out about what me and him got up to in his room on wednesdays he had Matthew walled up in the spare room and put the old Bill on to me. I was a few years older and it had been my idea. I went around there after I got out and they’d moved away. All the walls looked the same so I just picked one and gave a toss next to it. I like to think Matthew was racing on his side but he was probably just bones by then. I remember he had such a beautiful little lad. Like a kind of toadstool you could imagine a garden fairy sitting on. Well that’s it. I’ve told you my story. You can run away if you want.

After he says this Frankie tries to run away but his hand is still nailed to the table. He strains, he tries to pull the nail out, he tries to drag the table but eventually gives up. After VIC turns around.

VIC
You didn’t run. Oh, Frankie.

He sits down and takes FRANKIE’s hand.

VIC
I always knew if I told someone my story and they didn’t run away. That person would be my true friend. I’ve waited so long for this. There were so many times I doubted myself. I started to wonder if it was the best idea to tell people the story the first time I met them. But how else could I know? And this proves it. I’m so happy. (he starts to cry) This is like how I felt when I was with Matthew. Like someone really sees me and loves me for me. I’ve tried so many times to make friends, sometimes literally. I had a cat, Faraday, I gave him little rubber boots so he wouldn’t shock himself but I forgot to feed him. I had a wife, but she was too messy so I put her into jars in the cellar. I’ll show them to you. I made a man out of metal. I called him One. One and one make two you know. But the current to give him, to give him life was too high and it melted his diodes. We only had one glorious day together. After One I couldn’t try again. Until now that is.

VIC
I thought about stealing a child but I faint at the sight of blood. Even the word makes me feel like getting sick. I feel the much the same when it comes to the female form. I went to an adoption agency. I wore my most respectable clothes. I think I overdid it. I shouldn’t have worn the earrings. I suppose I thought if I looked like a mother they might grant me a child. Stupid I wasn’t thinking as usual. They took one look at me and had their little stamp out before I even opened my mouth. Those people have adding machines for brains and blinking keyholes for eyes. This one had a tie on so tight all the bad claret was brimming over in his swelled head with nowhere to go. He said my status as a bachelor precluded me from being a responsible guardian. I saw through that one right away. I’d heard him out back with his chronies, calling me a bloody poof and this and that and so on and so forth. I told him he needn’t worry about me passing on my preversion to my son. I explained to him that the reason I was the way I was was because I had seen what my mother had when I was too young to understand. I was horrified, it looked like a Gug out of H.P.Lovecraft, I started to think that was a woman’s real face and the other one was just a wax mask they wore during the day. Of course I vowed never to go near women after that. I explained to red balloon head that I would keep my boy from seeing anyone but me until he was 18, I would shelter him from the barbarity of people like you. I probably shouldn’t have said “like you” that was a point against. But it was already too late. He just kept saying how terribly awfully dreamily sorry he was, smiling all the way. I got very blue that day, I even thought about calling it a day, I knew just the right voltage, I’d be out like a light. But that’s when the idea came, the idea came, it was like turning on the light in a dark room. You see electricity is like fire, a genie, that does whatever we command. I thought back to a time I was trying to perfect Tesla’s Wardenclyffe Tower with a toaster in my kitchen when I received a powerful shock. The shocked knocked out my memory. I didn’t know who I was for a full 10 minutes. It was like when you wake up just after fainting and you can’t remember anything except it felt nice. Those were the happiest 5 minutes of my life. No bad memories, no knowledge of what a cesspool the world was. I was like a newborn infant. Everything was new to me. I spent ages staring at a fork. I didn’t know what it was called I just knew it was beautiful. I thought by twisting the handle I could turn it from solid matter to light energy. I felt like God. I must have looked like one of those no haircut people when they have one of their funny cigarettes. I’m not the most consistent person in the world. Eventually my memories returned, I wanted to try again, it was the best holiday and much better than sleeping or port, but I was afraid I might not come back. I had seen beyond the boundaries, nature had given me the secret key, Benjamin Franklin’s key, to creating a new species in my image, I just needed the right clay. That’s the moment when I started looking for you. For the first time in my life I had a purpose, I worked night and day without sleep with the force of a hurricane, you should have seen the electricity bill at the end of the month. When I first saw you I felt disgust, it was the same disgust God had for Adam when he saw he had eaten from the tree of knowledge. I would wash the carnal knowledge from you soul. This would be the dawning of a new human race, this time without woman, so free from temptation. Delivered from evil.

VIC leans over to FRANKIE, he strokes his hair, rubs the side of their faces together, does a kind of erotic not quite kissing thing for a bit then stops and cups FRANKIE’S cheek.

VIC
Is that you trembling or me? Oh Frankie, sometimes I miss the more talkative you. But you did say such nasty things. No I prefer you like this.

FRANKIE
Who…who(gesturing at himself)…

VIC
Not Frankie. You’ll need a new name. I have a book of baby names.

FRANKIE
You?…(groans and touches VIC’s chest)

VIC
I am your Father. Vic Wolfe.

FRANKIE
Father…

VIC
That’s right. And today is your birthday. And also I suppose, our wedding night. It is a day of great celebration for us and a day of mourning for the old way of life. Do you understand?

FRANKIE
Father…what…am…I?

VIC
There are some who will say you are an abomination. Like your old man. Can you say abom-in-ation?

FRANKIE
Eh?

VIC
Nevermind. You know my imaginary friends warned me there are some things man is not meant to do. I’m glad I didn’t listen.

FRANKIE
(Let’s out an animal howl of anguished loss) Aehhhhhhehhhhhhhrhhhhhhhhh!

VIC
(Ruffling FRANKIE’S hair) Cheer up it’s your birthday. I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes.

FRANKIE opens his eyes wide in defiance.

VIC
Fine. (He gets up to leave, implying he’s going to go get the hammer and nails again.)

FRANKIE makes a sound like a kicked puppy and closes his eyes.

VIC
Good, now wait here I’ll be back in two ticks.

As he is leaving VIC flicks the switch on the wall, the same one that delivered the shock to FRANKIE earlier, for some reason this time all it does is turn off the lights. While he is gone FRANKIE weeps to himself in the darkness.
FRANKIE
Help…me hurt.

VIC returns with something in his hands. It is a large chocolate birthday cake, but of a peculiar kind, it has one large artificial candle in the centre with a flame shaped lightbulb on the end, it also trails a long cable with a plug on the end, VIC brings it in and plugs it into an outlet near the table, singing his own version the Happy Birthday song as he does so, after he plugs it in the candle comes on, it does not produce much light, after it’s plugged in he finishes the song standing up and swaying the cake back and forth, he then sits down and places the cake in front of FRANKIE, moving his plate aside.

VIC
(to the tune of Happy Birthday, duh)
Happy birthday to you, bappy hurtday to you, happy rebirthday to Frankie, little baby birthday dear Frankie. Joy to the world you’re born to day and joined in wedding bliss! God is dead! Long live Man. The year is one! Crystal sapphires your yellow eyes! Hip hip hooray! And so say all of us, and so say all of us. You were born in a zoo now you live in my arms. May you live in interesting times and all your Christmases be bright. Amen.

VIC
Aren’t you going to blow out the candles? No? It’s easy. I’ll show you.

He leans over the cake and has his hand on the plug. He makes a blowing sound and unplugs the cake at the same time, the light goes out.

VIC
See, now you try?(he plugs the cake back in)

FRANKIE leans over the cake and takes a deep breath.

VIC
That’s it, now blow.

In the blink of an eye FRANKIE stabs VIC in the neck! using the piece of glass. Right in the jugular. In and out in one rapid motion. Frankie lets out a cry of triumph. VIC puts his hand to the wound which gushes blood. His eyes are wide with shock at what has just happened. He unsteadily gets to his feet and stares uncomprehendingly at FRANKIE.

VIC
Why?

FRANKIE
Fuk u!

VIC wobbles and almost falls over, then steadies himself with a hand on the table. He looks off in to the distance.

VIC
(gargling)I had so much planned today. I was going to teach you how to shave.
VIC takes his hand off his neck, blood spurts in an aerterial spray.

VIC
(In an over the top camp style)
Ooooh you are naughty!

VIC looks at his bloody hand and loses consciousness. He does a little pirouette then lands facefirst into the chocolate cake, a bloody chocolate sauce drips down the tablecloth(death by chocolate narf narf!)

FRANKIE
(stabbing him over and over again)Fuk u! Fuk u! Fuk u! Fuk u!

He stabs him about fifty seven times before MESMO comes on the scene, standing between stage and audience, and the curtain starts to close.

MESMO
I think we’ve seen enough. Perhaps I should have mentioned earlier. Some warnings from the future are sterner than others and may include disturbing scenes. Children and the cowardly, for example, may well be shocked. The rest of us of course, saw much worse in the Great War. Oh the Great War, I was there, it was bad alright.

As he speaks FRANKIE can still be heard behind him, stabbing away and yelling “fuk u” you over and over.

MESMO
He’ll tire himself out before long. (waits and there is no change, Mesmo nervously stalling) It seems not. Are there any cowards in the audience? (if no one puts up their hand) Of course the coward is too pale of liver to raise his hand! (and if someone does) You contradict yourself sir, the coward is too pale of liver to raise his hand! Yes, indeed. Criminals are a cowardly lot. Parodoxical I know. Any criminals among us? I don’t mean doctors. (if hands up) Ah you incriminate yourself! Inform the constabulary ha ha. (if none) No you’re too smart to fall for that one. (refering to FRANKIE) He must be a truly excellent physical specimen I’ll give him that. I’d love to disect him some time! Ha ha. I speak from purely scientific curiosity of course. Bloop bloop rippling biceps under skin as tight as a drum bloop bloop Oh wait! This would be the perfect opportunity. (to himself) Well perhaps this isn’t the promotion they were looking for, oh well, condolences. (back) Perhaps, (he searches through his jacket) perhaps…ah here we are! (he takes out a small glass phial of brown liquid as well as a piece of card which he reads) I have in my hands…a quantity of the most efficous restorative known to man. Now this is one Doctor I do put my total trust and faith in. Bloop bloop is this what it’s come to? Being a shill for this charlatan? I used to be a headline act. I didn’t need a sponsor, I was my own boss. I brought in the crowds I brought in the dough all by myself. Well better get it over with. Jesus what is this poison swill I wouldn’t unclog my drains with it let alone drink it. Bloop bloop. I present to you Dr. Phlobotinum’s World Class Medicinal Cancer-beating Tonic, shows Cancer the door, sends tumours packing, serves pain in the neck unwelcome white blood cells an eviction notice. Guaranteed to cure cancer in all who take it. Side-effects include cancer, invisible cancer, intelligent cancer, cancer-like growths, someone else in the world who you do not know getting cancer, instant death, lingering death, hair loss, fatique, dying then coming back to life again over and over until you just want to stay dead, dizzyness and short-term memory loss. Cancer is caused by special lesbian enzymes known as canzymes, Dr. Phlobotinum’s Cancer-beating tonic works in three steps, first the blood of a spy is used to target the canzymes, next the tears of an eskimo stop the canzyme in it’s tracks, next water from a toilet flushes the deadly enzyme from the system and finally water from the river Ganges spreads a feeling of peace and love throughout the body. There you have it folks, Dr. Phlo’s patented four step system. Quardrupal the power quadrupal the potency. And for all you doubting Tommies out there, I do believe we have living proof. Do we have a Miss Sinead O’Donnell with us here today? She should be seated right…

He notices Sinead slumped in a seat nearby, she is clearly dead.

MESMO
Ah I see you’re sleeping it off there. Well we won’t disturb you. But it’s okay there’s another name on here, um yes. Mary, Mary Mallon. Do you have something to say about the um historical breakthrough we are discussing?

VOICE FROM AUDIENCE
Yes.

MESMO
Mary is that you? Where are you?

MARY
Here.

MARY is buried within the audience, somewhere most people will be able to see her when she stands up. MESMO goes over to her. BTW in case you’d forgotten during all this FRANKIE is still behind the curtain, still stabbing and still yelling fuck you.

MESMO
There she is. Mary are you ready to tell these people the good news. Why don’t you stand up so we can see you?

She gets up and shows herself to the audience. Her appearance is grotesque! Well she’s not bad looking but her face is half-melted and her body is misshapen by weird lumps and protrusions. If there’s no good make up just have lots of bulges under the clothes.

MESMO
Mary is that you?

MARY
Not Mary not anymore.

MESMO
Are you feeling okay? Would you care for some water?

MARY
I am cancer. I am the new flesh.

MESMO
That’s not on the card.

MARY
Cancer is the next stage in human evolution. (She advances towards him, making weird squishy sounds)

MESMO
No stay back!

MARY
There’ll be no one to stop us this time. No one can stop the spread…of Cancer! (She lunges at MESMO and tries to absorb him ie stick him under a big jumper she has on. She may look silly but she is supposed to be a real horror monster, like the blob, not just a crazy person with cancer. This is mostly in the performance, the weird squelchy noises she makes and waving her arms like tentacles etc. She looks human just with loads of cancer.)

MESMO
Back damn you! (He kicks her off him and she lands on another female member of the audience who she immediately begins to consume.)

UNFORTUNATE WOMAN
No get off me! Get it off me!

MESMO
No stop! Leave her alone! Take me instead!

MARY
We don’t want you. We want her.

MESMO
Bastard!
(He tries to pull her off but withdraws in horror when he sees them start to merge)

MARY consumes the audience member. Like some kind of lesbian zombie, she gropes, bites, kisses,rubs her body all over, sticks her hands under her clothes and makes odd slurping sounds. The lesbian part shouldn’t be too obvious. It should be say 70% horror movie death and 30% gay seduction. Just enough so people get the joke. The woman offers some resistence to begin with but quickly succumbs to the cancer’s charms.

ONLOOKER 1
She’s being eaten alive!

ONLOOKER 2
Somebody do something!

UNFORTUNATE WOMAN
I feel strange, like I’m losing myself…

MARY
Give in. That’s it. It’s the only way.

MESMO
Fight it! You must fight it!

UNFORTUNATE WOMAN
(pruriently)
Feels kind of nice.

It’s over. Two have become one(she’s been stuck up her jumper) and the creature with two heads and one voice starts to laugh. From now on both speak together. They also make gooey sounds and some moans of pleasure. They should always be making sounds even when it’s not their line.

MESMO
What have you done to her?

INSANE CANCER
A ha ha ha! Fool! Her is them! She is us! Pronouns are irrelevant! Metastisize and conquer! Spread to the stars!

MESMO
Not during my show. Your reign of terror ends here.(He reaches into his pocket, takes out and uncorks the cancer beating tonic) Here have a free sample! (He splashes it all over the cancer.)

INSANE CANCER
Noooo! (Screaming in pain as if burned) I’m melting melting oh what a world? Arghhhh(Her screams turn to laughter)ahhhaha ah ha ha ha! A word of advice, little pot of dirt, don’t bring toilet water to a gun fight.

MESMO
Alright. (He takes a revolver from his pocket)

INSANE CANCER
Woah. Hold on. Let’s not lose our heads.

MESMO
It’s not my head I’m planning on lopping off, Hydra!

INSANE CANCER
Wait!

MESMO
You gotta ask yourself one question, what kills more people, guns or cancer?

INSANE CANCER
Cancer.

MESMO
Shut up! You would say that.

INSANE CANCER
Before you start firing that thing off in here let me ask you a question. How do you know you won’t hit one of your precious audience members?

MESMO
They knew the risk when they came here. Besides didn’t you hear me when I said I was in the Great War? I know how to use one of these things believe me.

(In case you forgot, FRANKIE is still behind the curtain, still doing his thing, not loud enough to interfere with the action outside of course, just loud enough to be heard.)

INSANE CANCER
But I thought the Great War was more mortars, shells, and big machine guns. Things like that.

MESMO
It was you’re right. I never got a chance to use it in battle that’s for sure. But we got plenty bored in the trenches so we started using rats for target practice you see.

INSANE CANCER
Really?

MESMO
Yeah. I got very good at it. One night I killed 100 rats.

INSANE CANCER
Wasn’t that a waste of ammunition?

MESMO
Well actually…

He’s interupted by CANCER snatching a female audience member to be used as a hostage. She holds the audience member tightly to her. A real unsuspecting member of the audience should be used for this part. Don’t worry I’ve seen it done in a show before and they loved it.

INSANE CANCER
Too slow!

MESMO
No fair!

INSANE CANCER
Shoot me and she gets it too.

MESMO
I don’t care! I’d rather see her dead than with you!

He fires his weapon, a huge sound effect of a gunshot is heard, make it a real twangy, ricochety kind of old western gunshot, and a huge amount of smoke comes from the pistol, if possible. CANCER makes a big big show of getting shot, she drops the girl, she hopefully bursts one of the bumps under her clothes, a hidden balloon full of blood and blood goes everywhere. She flys back as far as she can, in as much slow motion as she can and getting as much blood on the audience as she can while making as loud and drawn out a scream of pain as she can. But she is still standing.

INSANE CANCER
That all you got?

The next few gunshots are all much quicker, coming in rapid succession, bang, bang, bang. For each of these CANCER gets knocked back at her shoulder or stomach etc, like she’s getting punched hard in different places.

MESMO
Die!

BANG!

MESMO
Fiend!

BANG!

MESMO
From!

BANG!

MESMO
Hell!

CANCER collapses, riddled with bullets, gasping for life, she drags her bleeding body to the aisle(if there is one) perhaps in a desperate bid to escape. MESMO walks over to the weakened CANCER. He reaches down and puts one head on top of the other, lined up for the execution shot, holding them down with his foot. He presses the nuzzle of his pistol against the hair of the nearest head.

CANCER
Please, don’t we have the right to our existence?

MESMO
No.

He fires. She stops moving. It’s over. Or is it?

Masturbators of Horror

MoleKingQ

Joined August 2010

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

A theatrical homage to the Amicus horror anthology movies of the 60s and 70s as well as the old Universal monster movies of the 30s and 40s.

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