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Permanent Record (a prison musical)

This story has open issues

Permanent Record (a prison musical)

By bartbryars


PERMANENT RECORD
(The Musical)
By Bart Bryars
Copyrighted © 2006
*Based on the true-life experiences of Bart Bryars


ACT ONE


Intro Scene (Receiving & Admittance Room, Prison)

“The Stripsearch”

The Setting: ROBOCOP is standing before a counter. He is putting stuff in a large envelope.

ROBOCOP
Alright, I'm placing the following items in an envelope to be mailed to an address of his choice for inmate 03157-003. As I call them off: An empty wallet. 3 photographs. Various legal papers. 1 legal pad. 1 pair of white athletic socks. 1 pair of camouflage hightop tennis shoes. One pair of blue jeans. One Batman t-shirt. 3 guitar picks...Step forward, please. Stop at the red line.

(BART steps forward out of the darkness to the red line and stops. He is completely naked in the harsh fluorescent light.)


ROBOCOP
Open your mouth...stick out your tongue...move it side to side...up and down...wipe your hands through your ears, one at a time...like this, back and forth on your left side...now right side...bend your head forward...shake out your hair with your fingers...hands above your head...hands out in front of you...over...wiggle your fingers...reach down and lift up your nut sack...alright, now drop it...turn around...one foot at a time, pick it up and wiggle the toes...other foot...o.k. bend over, grab your ass with both hands and spread your cheeks and give me 2 good coughs...alright, grab your bedroll and your spitbag and put those orange issues on, then sit down and wait.

(Bart grabs his bedroll and spitbag and exits into the darkness.)

Lights down.

Scene #1 (The Prison Cell)

The Setting: BART enters cell and packs his "roll" in his locker. MALTE is on the bottom bunk, reading and obviously ignoring him. BART takes a seat in the chair.

BART
How's it going? I'm Bart.
(Extends his hand for a handshake)

(MALTE looks up from his book for a moment at BART’S offered hand, then goes back to reading his book.)

(BART, dejected, looks all around the room, gets up and walks to the cell bars, grabs them with both hands, looks outward and sighs deeply.)

MALTE
My name is MALTE.

(BART turns around and then seats himself in the chair again.)

BART
What are you in for?

MALTE
A dime and a nickel...stacked.

BART
Huh?

MALTE
15 years.

BART
Oh.
(Pauses)
I meant what "crime" are you in for?

MALTE
You sure ask a lot of questions.

BART
Sorry. I didn't mean to…

MALTE
(Interrupts)
Cocaine smuggling.

BART
Wow! That sucks.

MALTE
Yes, it does.
(Long pause.)

BART
You must have had a lot.

MALTE
Yes, I did.
(Another long pause.)

BART
How much have you done?

MALTE
None. It makes me too jittery.

BART
Huh?

MALTE
Nervous. Uptight. Paranoid, too.


BART
Oooh. No, I meant how much "time" have you done?

MALTE
I've walked most of it down, now. So, I'll be out in the world in a couple of minutes or so.

BART
You're finished?

MALTE
No. Like I said, I've still got a couple of minutes left.

BART
A couple of minutes "today"? Like, this morning?

MALTE
Boy, you're a real fish, aren't you?...Listen, time is relative in here. A couple of seconds could mean an actual couple of weeks, or a couple of months, or even years. It all depends on who's talking and about how much time they're referencing to. For instance, when I say 'I'll be out in a couple of minutes', I'm really meaning to say a couple of 'years'. See what I mean?

BART
Sorta. I guess.
(Pauses)

BART
So, I've got a few 'days' left to do.

MALTE
It's your bit, brother. Do your own time and call it what you want.

BART
What if you got life?

MALTE
All day.

BART
Life without?

MALTE
All day and a night.

BART
I think I'm getting it.

MALTE
Yeah, you'll get it.

(Long pause while BART ponders)

BART
Do you read a lot?

MALTE
Do you talk a lot?

BART
Sorry.

(Long pause)


BART
Are there any famous criminals in here?

MALTE
You mean INfamous?

BART
Yeah, like any names I would recognize from t.v. or the newspapers?

MALTE
EVERYBODY'S fucking famous in here...Hmmm. Ever heard of The Philadelphia Four?

(music/hi-hat snare starts)

BART
Wow! They're in here?

MALTE
Two are. But that's all that's left.

BART
Oh.

MALTE
The Bolt-Cutter Bandit?

BART
No way! That sicko dude?

MALTE
What about the "Coca"-Cabana Airlines?

BART
In Tampa? And they made that movie about it, right?

MALTE
That's the one.

BART
Wow!

MALTE
That's me, actually.

BART
You're kidding me!

(MALTE shakes his head.)

BART
You're famous, dude.

MALTE
Like I said, EVERYBODY'S famous in here.

BART
Everybody?

MALTE
Everybody. Even you!...Let me tell you a little bit about 'em!

“WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD”
Sung by MALTE
(From Scene 1, Act 1)

JOEY'S DOING LIFE WITHOUT 'CAUSE HE SHOT A COP
SERVED IN VIETNAM, TOO MANY SPECIAL OPS
SMILEY GOT A DIME FOR COOKING CRYSTAL METH
HIS TEETH ARE FALLING OUT, HIS WIFE IS WRITING LESS
BIGGIE'S ON APPEAL, ILLEGAL SEARCH AND SEIZURE
HE'S IN THE LAW LIBRARY TRYING TO BEAT IT
MURPHY IS A GUNRUNNER FOR THE I.R.A.
HE GOT 25 YEARS TO LIFE, NO MORE ST. PADDY'S DAY

WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD
YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK REALLY GOOD
KILLERS AND RAPISTS AND ROBBERS AND THIEVES
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD

SPARKY IS A LETTER-BOMBER, HIS GIRL WAS MARYANNE
AND WHEN SHE BROKE HIS HEART HE BLEW OFF BOTH HER HANDS
ICKY ONLY GOT A NICKEL 'CAUSE HE COPPED A PLEA
GOT IT BUSTED DOWN FROM MURDER 1 TO MANSLAUGHTER 3
JUDGE WAS A JUDGE, JUDGING EVERYBODY
UNTIL HE TOOK AN UNDERCOVER BRIBE IN MILWAUKEE
CHESTER IS A BABY-KILLER EVERYBODY KNOWS
AND WE ALL HOPE HE DIES INSIDE HERE BEFORE THEY LET HIM GO

WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD
YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK REALLY GOOD
PERVERTS AND DRUGGIES, SUPREMISTS AND PIMPS
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD

POPS IS A COUNTERFEITER, CRACKING FOR PAROLE
BUT THEY CAUGHT HIM MAKING HOOCH, THIRTY DAYS IN THE HOLE
EDDIE HAS A GLASS EYE, DIDN'T WHEN WE MET
CAUGHT A LOCK-IN-A-SOCK 'CAUSE HE DIDN'T PAY A DEBT
MISSY IS A SISSY IF YOU WANNA MAKE A SWITCH
NEVER HAD IT BETTER BEING EVERYBODY'S BITCH
AND RICO IS A REFUGEE, GOT HERE ON A BOAT
AND HE DON'T KNOW WHY HE'S STUCK INSIDE, PROBABLY NEVER KNOW


WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD
YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK REALLY GOOD
KILLERS AND RAPISTS AND ROBBERS AND THIEVES
WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD


Scene #2 (The Prison Chow Hall)


The Setting: Inmates are going through the chow line, grabbing their trays from a stack and moving down the line cafeteria-style.

ANTWAN
Motherfuckin' turkey rolls again, yo!

JACKSON-EL
At least they got rice today. Not too bad if you mix 'em together.

ANTWAN
Trade you mines for your cake.

JACKSON-EL
Bet

ANTWAN
Bet

(All the BLACK GUYS get their trays filled and all sit down together, engaging in indistinguishable idle chatter...)

CHAINSAW
So he's standing in line at the commissary and right before he gets to the window, he fuckin' pukes right on the cop standing there!

BOB
Whaaaat?

CHAINSAW
Yeah! Fuckin’ lame ass! So then the cop smells the puke. Hmmm. Alcohol. Pulls dude outta the line for a shakedown. Dude passes right the fuck out! Face down to the ground!

BOB
Straight up, no bullshit?


CHAINSAW
Fuckin' A, man! I'm telling you, they make some hellified hooch down in F-Unit.

(All the WHITE GUYS get their trays and all sit down together and continue on, engaging in indistinguishable idle chatter...)

FERNANDO
So 2 leather belts with Tejano stitches on edges, and 3 bandito wallets?

PELON’
Si.

FERNANDO
I can make them by next weekend, holmes. When you get the visit?

PELON’
Domingo.

FERNANDO
No problemo, ese. You got the jalepenos today?

PELON’
No jalepenos.

FERNANDO
Le verga!

(All the BROWN GUYS get their trays and all sit down together and continue, engaging in indistinguishable idle chatter...)

(BART gets his tray and sees an open seat next to the BLACK GUYS and goes to sit there. Before he sits, he asks them...)

BART
Is anyone sitting here?

(The BLACK GUYS stop talking and eating in unison, slowly turn their heads, all looking directly at BART and staring him down.)

(BART looks at each of them, and decides he should sit somewhere else.)

(He sees an open seat among the LATINOS, and the exact sequence occurs again.)

(Finally, he walks over to the WHITE GUYS’ table, where there are no seats left. The WHITE GUYS all look up at him, then a couple of them move down the bench at the table, leaving an open space for BART to sit.
MALTE nods his head for BART to sit there, and BART does so. The idle chatter resumes among the three separate groups, as BART and MALTE talk...)

BART
Dude, that's harsh.

MALTE
What's harsh?

BART
Didn't you see what just happened to me?

MALTE
That's just life in the joint. Everybody sticks to their own kind.

BART
Why?

MALTE
I don't make the rules. That's just how it is.

BART
So only white people hang out with white people. Blacks with blacks. Hispanics with hispanics.

MALTE
Look around the chowhall, Einstein.

BART
But why? I just don't get it.

[The three groups launch into song.]

REDNECKS, NIGGERS, AND WETBACKS
(From Scene 2, Act 1)

[blacks to the whites]

Rednecks and hillbillies, good ole boys in pick-up trucks
White boys ain't got no rhythm, white girls ain't got no butts
Ku Klux Klan and nascars, confederate flags and Andy Griffith
Country music, country boys, country bumpkins, and country bigots
Discriminating, O.J. hating, always trying to keep a brother down
Thank god the rebels got defeated, and the schoolboard lost to Brown
Honky, Bubba, money-grubbing blue-eyed devil so filthy rich
Tobacco chewing, micro-brewing, white crackers ain't worth a shit

[browns to the whites]

First you took Texas, then you take California
Put fences along Tijuana, we dig tunnels in Arizona
Long hair and heavy metal, bikers and gringos and yanquis
Swastika tattoo no bueno, and we don't need no stinking hippies
With serial killers and hockey, you play football with your hands (por que?)
Jail us for bringing you cocaine, but you taught us supply and demand
Punk-rockers always slam-dancing, rich people always snow skiing
You treat all Latinos like garbage, like not even human beings


______________________________________________________


[blacks to the browns]

Beaners, wetbacks, fence-jumpers and taco vendors
Tricked-out Toyotas, banditos and communistas
Low-riders and too many babies, gangs in the barrio
20 people, one apartment, Julio on the stereo
Cowboy hats, cowboy boots, big beltbuckle and Wrangler jeans
Bandanas, Speedy Gonzales, a fresh mullet and a turquoise ring
Medellin and Bogota, bloody cocaine cartels
No english-speaking, tequila reeking, refried beans and Taco Bell (Ewww!...what's that smell?)


[whites to the browns]

Spics, vatos, lettuce pickers, East L.A. now Minneapolis
Third-worlder, poncho-wearing, bull fighting and the Virgin Mary
Mexicans, Colombians (same!), Cubans and Bolivians (same!)
Sneak across the Rio Grande, playing funny-assed accordions
Illegal aliens, illegal immigrants, illegal foreigners and the like
Brazil, Peru, Jamaica, too, and whatever else ain't white (ain't right!)
Jalapeno, big mustachio, and waaaay too much damned cowbell
Ever-thieving, I.N.S. deceiving, hot tamales and Taco Bell (Ewww!...what's that smell?)


___________________________________________________________


[whites to the blacks]

Niggers and jungle bunnies, fried chicken and gangster rap
Jigaboo with a jerry-curl, big fur coat and a Cadillac
Basketballs and corn-rows, gold teeth and nappy afros
Welfare babies, chitlin' gravy, ghettos filled with pimps and hos
Watermelon, baby-powder smelling, ebonics and the Black Panthers
Shaquanda, Leshon, Shaniqua, Deshawn, Erkel, Weezie and Fred Sanford
Always bitching about "the man", blame it all on whitey and the klan
Pickaninny, coon, poppa-ooo-mow-mow, Little Black Sambo, garbage man


[browns to the blacks]

Spook and a spade and negritas, you kill and you rob and carjack
To lottos you give all your money, to projects you sell all your crack
Lips like a giant pinata, and hair like a big brillo pad
Tell your sisters it's good to be black, but better to be only half
You drink the malt liquor like water, and rims that go spinning around
You can't even swim in the water, baby-daddy nowhere to be found
Marching and picketing too much, "acting white" if you're smart at the school
We don't like the Negro Modelos, and no 40 ounce malt liquor bull

Scene #3 (The Rec Yard/Weight Pile)

The Setting: Dudes are just hanging out around the weight pile. Some of them have weight belts on. One guy is jumping rope. One guy is doing pull-ups. All kinds of exercising going on. Next to MALTE and BART are….

JUNIOR on bench, benchpressing, while CHAINSAW, his spotter, yells:


CHAINSAW
….7…….8……C’mon, push it, motherfucker!.......9……..One more! C’mon, you got it!......Ten! Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!

(CHAINSAW helps JUNIOR rack the weights.)

(BART has been looking at them, then says to MALTE, who is sitting on another bench doing 2-handed curls with a set of dumbbells.)

BART
That guy’s really strong.

(MALTE just stares at BART without saying a word.)

(MALTE gets finished with the weights and steps up off of the bench.)

MALTE
Your turn.

(BART sits on the bench and starts to lift the dumbbells.)

BART
Here goes nothing.

(BART starts doing the reps with the weights. He does 3 or 4 on each arm, tires out, sets them down and looks at MALTE.)

BART
This sucks.

MALTE
Don’t be a puss.

BART
It ain’t that this is too hard. It’s too, uh...boring.


MALTE
The penitentiary’s boring. But if you don’t find something to take your mind off of that slowly ticking clock, you’ll go mad.

BART
I think I’m already mad.

MALTE
Perhaps angry mad. Not crazy mad. Yet.

BART
What else?

MALTE
What else what?

BART
What else is there to do in here besides lifting weights and watching gameshows and soaps?

MALTE
Hmmm. You could play bridge with the old goombahs.

BART
Who?

MALTE
Old mob guys. They also have a bocci-ball set-up. If you could call it that.

BART
Hmm. I don’t think so. Anything else?

MALTE
You could make leather belts and wallets with the vatos.

BART
Hmm.

MALTE
Lotsa sports. You could play softball or basketball for your housing unit. Mostly a bunch of degenerate clowns. Lotta fights and arguments. Um, handball. But it’s just a wall and you’ve got to chase your balls down all day. There’s an art room, but you can do that in your house. There’s a music room, too, but none of the shit ever works and nobody plays…

BART
A music room? You mean for musicians to play instruments and all?

MALTE
Yeah. They’ve got a drum set and some guitars and amps and other stuff, I think. But, like I said, none of it ever seems to work. Inmates always tearing shit up, you know?

BART
Wow! That’s my favorite thing to do in the whole world. Jamming out and rocking out songs and stuff. I play guitar.

MALTE
Well, there you go.

BART
Can anybody sign-up?

MALTE
Sure. As long as you’re a convict.

BART
You play an instrument?

MALTE
No. Well, I used to fuck around with the guitar when I was younger. But I haven’t played in years and I probably forgot how to even play.

BART
So what. I’m not that good, either. I mean, I’m better at just writing songs and making stuff up to jam to. That’s what I’ve been trying to do before I got in trouble. Put a band together and play my songs I write.

MALTE
Good for you.

BART
Well, come on then. Let’s start a band, dude.

MALTE
I don’t think so.

BART
C’mon dude! Let’s start a band!


[BART sings song]

LET'S START A BAND
(From Scene 3, Act 1)

COME ON, LET'S START A BAND
WE COULD CALL IT "RAZOR WIRE"
WE'LL PUT ON A REAL BIG SHOW
YOU COULD HELP ME PUT UP FLIERS

I'M GONNA PLAY THE GUITAR
AND YOU COULD PLAY ONE, TOO
WE'LL FIND A KICK-ASS DRUMMER
LIKE KEITH MOON OF THE WHO

COME ON, LET'S START A BAND
WE COULD WRITE A BUNCH OF SONGS
WE'LL MAKE THE VERSES SHORT
AND THE LEAD SOLOS REAL LONG

WE'LL SING ABOUT DRINKING WHISKEY
I'LL SING IT IN A DEEP GROWL
SEX AND DRUGS AND ROCK-AND-ROLL
AND GIRLS WE CAN'T BE WITH NOW

COME ON, DUDE, LET'S START A BAND
IT'S BETTER THAN LIFTING WEIGHTS ALL DAY AND PLAYING MONOPOLY ALL NIGHT
COME ON, DUDE, LET'S START A BAND
IT'S BETTER THAN WATCHING SOAPS ALL DAY AND READING BOOKS YOU DON'T LIKE
COME ON, DUDE

COME ON, LET'S START A BAND
WE COULD CALL IT "PAROLE VIOLATORS"
HEAVY METAL FOR ALL THE KILLERS
LOVE BALLADS FOR ALL THE RAPERS

AND I'M GONNA PLAY THE GUITAR
PLAY IT LIKE JIMI HENDRIX
I'LL PLAY IT HARD AND PLAY IT LOUD
TIL I'M DONE WITH MY SENTENCE

COME ON, DUDE, LET'S START A BAND
IT'S BETTER THAN LIFTING WEIGHTS ALL DAY AND PLAYING MONOPOLY ALL NIGHT
COME ON, DUDE, LET'S START A BAND
IT'S BETTER THAN WATCHING SOAPS ALL DAY AND LOOKING AT BOOKS YOU DON'T LIKE
COME ON, DUDE

I KNOW THE DRUMS ARE HELD TOGETHER BY COATHANGERS AND TENNIS-SHOESTRINGS
AND I KNOW THE AMPS DON'T WORK SOMETIMES AND THE BASS ONLY HAS THREE STRINGS
BUT I DON'T CARE ABOUT NONE OF THOSE THINGS
COME ON, DUDE
LET'S START A BAND
HELL YEAH!
LET'S START A BAND
FUCKIN' A
LET'S START A BAND


SCENE #4 (Veronica’s Bedroom)

The Setting: VERONICA has just gotten out of the shower. She is wearing a towel and her hair is up in a towel, as well. She towels her hair for a moment, picks up BART’S picture from her nightstand and sets it on her desk and starts to write a letter. The following is not spoken by her, but narrated by her voice as she writes.


VERONICA’S VOICE
My Dearest Bart,
These words alone can’t even come close to describing how much I love you. I love you more than anyone or anything in this whole wide world. I miss your kisses and hugs so much. Every time I pass 423 I think about when you first told me that you loved me. It was the happiest I’ve ever been. I wish you were here right now and I could show you how much I miss you.

I can’t wait til you win your appeal and I can hold you close to me again. I hope your appeal goes faster than your lawyer said. But even if it takes a long time, I’ll still be here waiting for you. Becky asked me how long am I going to keep waiting for you and I told her “However long it takes”. I really mean that, baby.

I know it must be hell in there for you, but don’t you worry about me. I’m doing fine. Most days I just go to class, then straight to work, then straight home to study. No time for socializing, but that’s the way I like it. I’m saving up all my fun time for when you get out. That day is all I think about. Me and you together again. Happy again. Making passionate love with the sweet sound of the summer rain drifting through the window. And then falling asleep in eachother’s arms. It’s a dream I keep having over and over, every night. I miss you so much.

By the way, thank you for all the sweet poems you send me. I read them every night before I go to sleep. They are beautiful. You really have a way with words. You always make me feel like a queen.

I hope they aren’t being mean to you in there. I will come beat them up if they are. And I’m really glad the food is better than where you were before. I can’t wait to make my special lasagna for you when you come home. I know that will be sooner than you think. We just have to be strong for eachother. Strong together.

Please call me Friday night when you have your phone time. I’ll be waiting by the phone.

Well, I guess that’s about all for now. No matter how much being separated from you hurts, know that I love you with all my heart and soul and there will never be anyone for me but you.

I love you forever and ever,
Veronica


(VERONICA puts the letter in an envelope, addresses it, squirts some perfume on it, then sets it down on the desk. She picks up BART’S picture, plops on the bed, pulls a pillow tight to her chest, and starts to cry.)

Lights down.

Scene #5 (The Prison Band Room)


The Setting: The band is all tuning up and making a hellacious noise.

BART
Alright. Alright. Listen up, y’all……Hey!....Hey!......HEEEEYYY!

(One by one , the band stops fucking around and pays heed to BART, who’s standing at a microphone taped to a mop handle taped/tied to a folding chair.)
BART
Alright. Thanks for coming to our very first band practice. I’ve already met each one of you, but you may not know eachother. So, I’m going to introduce y’all one by one to everybody else, starting with DAVE on drums.

(DAVE hits a tom-tom roll, accented at the end with a cymbal crash, which promptly falls over when he hits it. The other inmates/bandmates stare and do not crack a smile as DAVE bends over to pick the cymbal back up.)

BART
Uh-hmm. And on bass guitar, TWELVE.

(TWELVE hits a killer funky bass riff, then abruptly cuts it off and says,)

TWELVE
That’s only 75%, muthafuckas!

BART
(To MALTE)
What’d he say?

TWELVE
This bitch only got 3 strings, yo!

BART
Really?
(BART shakes his head and sighs)
…Alright, well, on guitar with me is MALTE.

MALTE turns a knob on his guitar and the amplifier starts squealing with distortion. He turns to the side and the distortion stops for a second, at which time MALTE strums an open G chord and lets it sustain. He turns back around and the distortion is there again, overtaking the guitar chord until the squeal is unbearable and he then turns the knob on his guitar back off.

BART
Wow. That was, uh,….(searching for the right word)…loud. And finally, on percussion we’ve got RIGOBERTO.

(RIGOBERTO just waves at everyone and smiles broadly.)

BART
So, I guess what we’re gonna do first is just jam a blues progression. I assume everyone knows what that means. 12 bar, I, IV, V type. In E. Blues scale, pentatonic minor. DAVE, start us off with a shuffle or a downbeat or whatever else. Just keep it sorta midtempo, alright?

(DAVE nods his head. Then, he starts nodding his head to a tempo and begins a beat. It’s kinda herky-jerky, but the beat gets established. Everyone else is looking at BART, waiting for a cue. BART sees them all looking at him and points to TWELVE. TWELVE immediately starts jamming along. The bass part is simple and repetitious and in the proper key, but he is thumping it funk-style and it is clashing with the beat DAVE has established.)

(MALTE joins in next. Then RIGOBERTO. And finally, BART. They are all in E, but they are not meshing well at all. They are all playing different “feels” and it is all clashing horribly and sounds like a bunch of random noise.)

Curtain.


ACT TWO


Scene #1 (Prison Rec Yard/Weight Pile)


The Setting: Dudes are hanging out at the weight pile. The are three sections to the weight pile. There is the bench press, where the BLACK GUYS are benchpressing together. There is the leg press and squatting set-up, where the WHITE GUYS are doing squats together. And there is a chin-up bar and a sit-up incline where all the LATINOS are working out together. There is loads of testosterone and sweat flying around. It is very intense. There is lots of hollering and counting and repping and posturing. It’s as if there was a contest to see who can be the most macho as a group.

(As JACKSON-EL, who is benchpressing, is racking his weights, he pinches his thumb.)

JACKSON-EL
Ahhh! Goddamn!!!

(HE looks around and notices CHAINSAW looking at him.)

JACKSON-EL
What the fuck you lookin’ at, Billie?

CHAINSAW
You talkin’ to me?

JACKSON-EL
Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you, muthafucka!

CHAINSAW
Fuck you, bitch! I’ll kill you!

(JACKSON-EL and CHAINSAW lunge at eachother and start fighting and tousling. CHAINSAW is thrown to the ground and then throws one of the dumbbells at the JACKSON-EL, which misses and strikes a bystander, PELON’, instead. PELON’ then joins the fray. As all hell is breaking loose, all the OTHER INMATES are standing around cheering on their respective racial participants. They are also holding eachother back, letting the fight run it’s course. At one point, JUNIOR hands CHAINSAW a shank that he has pulled out of his sock.)

JUNIOR
CHAINSAW, t-t-take this!

(CHAINSAW takes the shank and as HE is rolling around on the ground fighting the JACKSON-EL and PELON’, he stabs at JACKSON-EL but hits PELON’ in the side. PELON’ immediately groans and hits the ground.)

ANTWAN
Uh-oh! 5-0, 5-0! Watch out, y’all! (etc…)

(JACKSON-EL and CHAINSAW untangle. CHAINSAW throws the shank out of view. PELON’ stands up and holds his side, which is bleeding.)

(ROBOCOP & OFFICER McCLUNG show up and one grabs JACKSON-EL, the other grabs CHAINSAW. They rough them up a bit and march them away as the lights go out.)

SCENE #2: (The silhouettes)

(Silhouette #1 is of a GUARD beating a handcuffed and restrained INMATE with a billystick.
ROBOCOP is simultaneously singing BAD COP.)

(Followed immediately by:)

(Silhouette #2 is of a GUARD sitting across a table from an INMATE, calmly talking and taking notes on a notepad. OFFICER McCLUNG is simultaneously singing GOOD COP.)


GOOD COP, BAD COP
(From Scene 2, Act 2)

[Silhouette #1, ROBOCOP sings ‘Bad Cop’]

YOU MIGHT SAY I'M SADISTIC
THE WAY I GET OFF AND GO BALLISTIC
WHEN THEY CALL THE GOON-SQUAD,
OF WHICH I'M A MEMBER
MARQUIS DE SADE
WITH A STEROID TEMPER
WIELDING MY ABSOLUTE POWER
I GET A HEADRUSH WHEN THEY COWER
I WRITE 'EM A SHOT
IF THEY QUESTION MY CONTROL
GUILTY OR NOT,
I SEND 'EM OFF TO THE HOLE

‘CAUSE I’M A BAD COP
I AIN’T A GOOD COP, HELL NO
YEAH, I’M A BAD COP
AND I’LL NEVER STOP BEING SO

I'M A ROBOCOP ON A MISSION
A MASOCHIST TO THEIR SUBMISSION
I LIKE TO READ THEIR MAIL
AND PRY INTO THEIR LIVES
LOVE MY JOB IN JAIL,
STEALING PICTURES OF THEIR WIVES
I'M THE MASTER, THEY'RE MY SLAVE
SO THEY BETTER NOT MISBEHAVE
'CAUSE I CAN BUST 'EM AND BEAT 'EM
AND NEVER BE QUESTIONED
ABUSE AND MISTREAT 'EM,
FEED MY OBSESSION

‘CAUSE I’M A BAD COP
I AIN’T A GOOD COP, HELL NO
YEAH, I’M A BAD COP
AND I’LL NEVER STOP BEING SO


[Silhouette #2, OFFICER McCLUNG sings ‘Good Cop’]

YOU MIGHT SAY I'M TOO FRIENDLY
A MISTER ROGERS IN THE PENITENTIARY
BUT I REALLY BELIEVE
YOU CAN CHANGE WHEN YOU'RE FENCED IN
MAY BE NAIVE,
BUT I'VE SEEN REDEMPTION
I TREAT ALL THE INMATES HUMANELY
LIKE THE GOLDEN RULE STATES PLAINLY
I DO UNTO OTHERS
LIKE I WANT TO BE DONE
'CAUSE THEY COULD ALL BE MY BROTHER,
OR MAYBE MY SON

‘CAUSE I’M A GOOD COP
I AIN’T A BAD COP, HECK NO
YEAH, I’M A GOOD COP
AND I’LL NEVER STOP BEING SO


NEVER GOT MY COFFEE LAXATIVE-LACED (KNOW WHY?)
NEVER GOT A CUP OF PISS IN MY FACE (KNOW WHY?)
'CAUSE I NEVER HARRASS 'EM,
I NEVER STRIPSEARCH 'EM
NEVER TYPECAST 'EM,
WE TALK ABOUT CHURCH AND
ANYTHING ELSE THEY WANNA TALK ABOUT
LIKE WHAT THEY WANNA DO WHEN THEY GET OUT
THEY'RE PRETTY MUCH NO DIFFERENT
THAN ME AND YOU
EXCEPT THEY LIVE IN THE EQUIVALENT
OF CRIMINAL ZOO

‘CAUSE I’M A GOOD COP
I AIN’T A BAD COP, HECK NO
YEAH, I’M A GOOD COP
AND I’LL NEVER STOP BEING SO


SCENE #3: (The Prison Rec Room/Auditorium)


(The BAND is on stage getting ready to play a gig for the general population. There are SEVERAL INMATES in folded chairs sitting directly in front of the stage. They are, once again, separated by race in groups. They are eating popcorn out of brown paper bags and drinking cokes. They are engaged in idle chatter and are obviously bored and have the angry look of prisoners with too much time left on their sentences and no women or booze to make this a real show. This is a tough crowd.)

(The BAND is tuning up and checking their amps and such. They are wearing various combinations of prison issue clothing and sportswear (sweatpants, t-shirts, sunglasses, etc…). They look and act disorganized and ragtag.)

(BART comes out from the side of the stage and walks up to the mic. He is wearing sunglasses and has his hair done up rock-and-roll style. He says a couple of inaudible things to his bandmates (out of earshot), then speaks into the mic:)

BART
What’s going on, y’all? Thanks for coming out. We’re gonna play a few tunes I wrote in the world. Hope you like ‘em…….(he looks around to his bandmates, and they all nod at him as if to say they’re ready to go.) Alrighty guys. Ah 1, 2, 3, 4….

(The BAND launches in to “SHE’S MY MUSCLE CAR”.)

SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
(From Scene 3, Act 2)
[Sung by BART]

HER LIPS ARE CHERRY RED LIKE A '65 MUSTANG
I'M GONNA FILL HER UP WITH MY HIGH OCTANE
SLEEK AND LOW LIKE A CORVETTE STINGRAY
DRIVES ME ALL NIGHT, BURNS MY RUBBER ALL DAY

SPEEDY LIKE A 4-BARREL DUAL-EXHAUST DODGE
LET'S ME PARK MY HOTROD IN HER GARAGE
SHE SHIFTS MY GEARS, SO GOOD WITH MY STICK
IDLES SMOOTH, ACCELERATION QUICK

SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
SHE KEEPS HER MOTOR CLEAN
SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
MY SUPERCHARGER QUEEN


I POP HER BIG OLE TRUNK WHEN I NEED A JACK
I RIDE HER SO HARD IT MAKES HER ENGINE-BLOCK CRACK
SHE MAKES YOU EAT DUST LIKE A G.T.O.
351 CLEVELAND IN HER GRAN TORINO

GONNA LUBE HER UP, GONNA CHANGE HER OIL
GONNA MAKE SPARKS FLY FROM HER IGNITION COIL
BARRACUDA, SUPER-SPORT, CHEVELLE, MONTE CARLO
ROADRUNNER, RALLY-SPORT, AND FIREBIRD CAMARO

SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
SHE KEEPS HER MOTOR CLEAN
SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
MY SUPERCHARGER QUEEN

SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
SHE KEEPS HER MOTOR CLEAN
SHE'S MY MUSCLE CAR
MY SUPERCHARGER QUEEN


(As the song is being played, the INMATES slowly react, one by one, in their separate racial groups.)

(After the first verse and chorus, the BLACK GUYS start goofing and making fun of the band. One of the BLACK GUYS sees a broom off to the side of the stage and gets up and grabs it and then jumps on stage and starts sweeping at BARTS feet like they do at the Apollo Theater, much to the delight of his BLACK FRIENDS. Then, the other BLACK GUYS stand up and throw their popcorn bags and cokes at the stage as they are walking out. The BLACK GUYS are very amused and laughing as the SWEEPING GUY jumps off the stage and joins THEM as they leave the show, making gestures of disapproval. THEY are talking shit with eachother and making fun of the BAND as they leave the show.)

(Next, the LATINOS all get up in unison and shake their heads as they also leave in disappointment as the second verse ends and the second chorus starts.)

(Lastly, the WHITE GUYS, who have all been standing with their arms folded, start to shake their heads as they all leave together, at the end of the last chorus.)

(The song is cliché as hell and is so cheesy. It is stock rock and roll. Nothing too fancy. The melody is monotone, the chords are straight and non-riffy. The BAND is obviously not clicking together, and they are forcing it. As the three different groups leave in disappointment, the BAND, one by one, slowly starts putting less and less into what they are doing. By the time the WHITE GUYS leave, they have all pretty much quit trying to play and BART is playing the song by himself. After he realizes this, he stops, looks at the other BAND MEMBERS, sighs and looks down and shakes his head in disgust.)


Lights down.


SCENE #4 (Veronica’s Bedroom)

The Setting: VERONICA is seated at her desk again, writing BART another letter. She is wearing a towel and her hair is up in a towel, again (obviously having just gotten out of the shower, like in her first scene). BART’S picture is on her nightstand, which is next to her bed. As she writes, her voice narrates…

VERONICA’S VOICE
Dear Bart,
I am so sorry for not visiting you as much lately. It’s just that things have been getting busier for me since I started the new job. And since Becky’s car broke, she’s been sharing my car. Even on the weekends. I can’t really tell her no because she is my roommate and I need her rent money. Plus she helped me get through a lot of stuff the past year. But I promise I’ll try to come visit you more often.

I am so sorry about your appeal, too. I can’t believe they can get away with doing that. At least you have another level to go to. Becky’s dad thinks you’ll have a better chance with the state “supreme” court. I hope so. You need something to go your way, for once.

I saw your mom at K-mart last weekend. She said your dad is getting better. I am happy for them.

I know you think I’m drifting away from you or cheating or that I don’t love you anymore, but please try to understand what I’m going through while you’re in there. I still love you, but it just keeps getting harder and harder to keep this “love” that we have alive. I’m not saying I want to be with anyone else. You are the only man I’ve ever been with, and I can’t imagine anyone else making me feel the way you do. It’s just…just…


“HARD TO HANG ON”
(Sung by VERONICA)
(From Scene 4, Act 2)

IT’S JUST SO HARD TO HANG ON
WHILE I’VE STILL GOT YOUR PILLOW, YOU’RE GONE
I STILL KISS YOUR PICTURE EVERY NIGHT
AND I STILL WANT TO WIN THIS FIGHT

KNOW I STILL THINK ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME
AND YOU KNOW THAT MAKES ME LOSE MY MIND
‘CAUSE THAT CRAZINESS IS LONELY AND SAD
SO HARD TO HANG ON BUT I WANT TO LAST

SO HARD TO HANG ON AND I’M TRYING HARD
IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD I’M ALWAYS ON MY GUARD
‘CAUSE EVEN THOUGH ALL YOUR BOYS ARE SCARED OF ME
YOU KNOW, TIME HAS A WAY WITH YOUR MEMORY

YOU KNOW, IT’S JUST SO HARD TO HANG ON
ALMOST FEELS LIKE YOU’RE A GHOST IN MY HOME
AND I’M JUST A ZOMBIE WHILE I WAIT
FOR A MIRACLE OR A PAROLE DATE

ALL I KNOW IS THAT I LOVE YOU NOW
LOVE TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN SOMEDAY, SOMEHOW
BUT WHEN YOU’VE GONE AWAY SO FAR FOR SO LONG
IT’S JUST SO HARD TO HANG ON

VERONICA’S VOICE
Love ya,Veronica

Lights down.


SCENE #5: (Prison Cell)


The Setting: BART and MALTE are playing Monopoly in their cell. BART rolls the dice.

BART
Connecticutt Ave. Pass. Go ahead.

(MALTE rolls the dice.)

MALTE
B & O. I’ll buy that.
(MATE makes the transaction with the Monopoly bank and grabs the deed.)

(BART rolls the dice again.)

BART
Hmm. 11…Tennessee Ave…Hmm……..I just can’t figure it out.

MALTE
Four 20’s and a C-note.

BART
No, not that. The fuckin’ band, man. How come we suck so bad? I mean, it’s like no matter what song I write, it always comes out sucking when the band plays it…I’ll take Tennessee. Gimme some change, dude.

MALTE
Not everybody in the band can rock.
(He rolls the dice again)
Seven. 200 for passing “Go” and I’ll take that Community Chess card.
(Picks up card from gameboard.)

BART
Are you kiddin’ me? They’re ALL better than me, and I KNOW I rock pretty damn hard.
(Picks up dice.)

MALTE
(Reads from card.)
“Error in my favor. Bank owes me $50.”
(Flips card, holding it for BART to read, as he’s grabbing a $50 bill from the bank.)

BART
(Rolls dice.)
Even you’re better than I am.

(Malte dips his head and shakes it)

BART
What?


MALTE
I don’t mean rock, in the sense of playing instruments well or in capability terms. I’m talking about rock as a genre of music. You know, rock-and-roll. And what I mean is…well, look around at your band. None of them “are” rock-and-roll, like you. They may play the rock-and-roll notes you show them, but it’s not coming from their heart. Their soul.
(MALTE rolls the dice.)

BART
8 puts you in jail, dude.

MALTE
Damn! I bet the food’s better in Monopoly jail than in here, though.
(Moves his piece across the board.)

BART
Ha ha!
(BART picks up the dice and starts shaking them in his hand and then blows on them, once.)
So we suck because nobody rocks but me?
(Rolls the dice.)

MALTE
Here’s the way I see it. Listen closely. When you play your music behind these walls, there are basically three groups of inmates who need to be entertained or amused in some fashion. Whites, blacks, and browns. Understand what I’m saying?

BART
I think so.

MALTE
So, each song you play must bring something for each of these groups to…enjoy. To feel like you’re speaking to them directly.

BART
Every song?

MALTE
Every song. Now, you think TWELVE is a good bass player?

BART
He rocks balls. Of course.

MALTE
You think black guys like bass guitar?

BART
That’s all they wanna hear.

MALTE
See where I’m going with this?


[MUSIC]

EUREKA! VOILA! (BASS, PERCUSSION, & GUITAR SOLO)
(From Scene 5, Act 2)
[Sung by MALTE with *(BART) responses]

[Movement #1]

WHAT MAKES JAMES BROWN SWEAT?
WHAT MAKES A BROTHER AND A SISTER GET ALL WET?
WHAT DRIVES THE BUTTS WITH THAT FUNKY GROOVE?
WHAT MAKES YOU GET ON UP? WHAT MAKES YOUR ASS MOVE?

IT'S BASS!
(YOU MEAN GIVE YOU THAT FUNKY BASS LIKE BOOTSY IN THE RUBBER BAND?)
THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID BASS!
(I KNOW A BASS PLAYER CALLED TWELVE)
AND TWELVE IS BLACK AND BASS IS A BLACK THING
BASS!
(YOU MEAN GIVE YOU THAT FUNKY BASS LIKE GRAHAM IN THE FAMILY STONE?)
THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID BASS!
(I'VE GOT A BASS PLAYER CALLED TWELVE)
WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE AND LET HIM DO HIS THING?
HIT IT!

[bass guitar solo]


WHY DON'T YOU START YOUR SONG WITH A BASS RIFF, FIRST THING?
............................................................................................................................
LIKE A FINGER-LICKING FRIED CHICKEN WING
……………(SNARE!)…………..
KICK IT ON ONE.....................(AND THE THREE AND?)...........................YES!...........
KICK IT ON ONE, NOW THE HI-HAT FITS IN
NOW YOU'VE GOT THE BLACK INMATES ATTENTION
THAT'S HOW YOU GET THE BLACK INMATES ATTENTION
THAT'S HOW YOU GET THE BLACK INMATES ATTENTION
THAT'S HOW YOU GET THE BLACK INMATES ATTENTION
BASS!

BART
Wow! That makes total sense. But, say I’ve got the black guys going and all, that’s awesome. But, the latinos, uh , “browns” as you say, they all walked out, too. What do I do about them?

MALTE
RIGOBERTO plays what?

BART
Percussion?

MALTE
Brown guys like percussion?

BART
That’s all they wanna hear. Sometimes with horns.

MALTE
Right. But, see where I’m going with this?

[MUSIC]

[Movement #2]

CABASAS AND TUBOS AND GUIROS AND CLAVES
FROM SPAIN TO BRAZIL TO CUBA TO MEXICO
CONGAS AND BONGOS, COWBELLS AND TIMBALES
PERCUSSION'S THEIR SEDUCTION. SE HABLA ESPANOL?

YOU WANNA HABLA ESPANOL?
(OF COURSE, I DO!)

PLAY RHYTHMS OF THE BOSSA NOVA
MERENGUE AND SALSA AND ISLAND CALYPSO
REGGAE AND MAMBO, FLAMENCO AND TANGO
LIKE CUBA HAD TITO, YOU'VE GOT RIGOBERTO

(SO HAVE HIM PLAY LATIN PERCUSSION
WHILE I KEEP A-ROCKING AND ROLLING.
THEN ALL THE HISPANICS WILL LOVE IT?)
NOW YOU'RE HABLA ESPANOLING!
HABLA ESPANOLING!
HABLA ESPANOLING!
HABLA ESPANOLING!

BART
I guess white guys just wanna hear guitar?

MALTE
Specifically, guitar “solos”.

BART
Solos.

MALTE
Why do you think they were the last to walk out of the show? They were hoping, anticipating, waiting for you to lay a guitar solo on them.

[MUSIC]

[Movement #3]

THEY DON'T CARE HOW THE CHORUS GOES
FORGET THE WORDS, THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW
DON'T NEED DETECTIVES TO KNOW THEIR M.O.'S
WHITE BOYS JUST WANNA HEAR GUITAR SOLOS

SO ROCK THE HAMMER LIKE YOU'RE JIMMY PAGE
TEXAS SWING IT LIKE YOU'RE STEVIE RAY
MAKE ROVER MOVE OVER
LET JIMI TAKE OVER
AND RIP IT LIKE IT'S PURPLE HAZE

BEND IT JUST LIKE YOU'RE SLOWHAND
PLAY IT LOUD AND FAST AS YOU CAN
SHREADING AND WAILIN'
LIKE YOU'RE EDDIE VAN HALEN
KEEPS THE WHITE BOYS EATING OUT OF YOUR HAND
IT KEEPS THE WHITE BOYS EATING OUT OF YOUR HAND
IT KEEPS THE WHITE BOYS EATING OUT OF YOUR HAND


(A voice comes over the p.a. system.)

VOICE
Count time.


Lights down. Curtain


ACT THREE

Scene #1 (Cell)

The Setting: CHAINSAW is giving CHARLIE a tattoo on his back, which is already covered in ink.JUNIOR is hanging around at the cell door and is keeping an eye out for guards.

CHARLIE
No shit!

CHAINSAW
No shit at all, cuz! No shit for almost 2 weeks!

JUNIOR
Uh, what the fuck are y’all t-t-talking about?

CHARLIE
You ain’t heard about Pops?

JUNIOR
Uh, no. What hap-hap-happened to him?

CHAINSAW
A coupla weeks ago ROBOCOP checked him into the medical hole after a visit. Said he saw his wife pass him a balloon in a kiss.

JUNIOR
Uh, m-medical “hold”?

CHAINSAW
No. The “hole”, dumbass! You know, like 30 days in the hole?

CHARLIE
Except you’re chained to a fucking bed and there’s no toilet.

JUNIOR
Huh?


CHARLIE
So the cops can see what’s in your shit.

JUNIOR
Like a balloon full of, uh, w-w-weed.

CHAINSAW
Smack. Dipshit.

JUNIOR
Th-that old motherfucker’s almost, uh, 90. D-Damn!

CHAINSAW
86.

(JUNIOR notices BART walking up to the cell.)

JUNIOR
Hold up. Uh, sandwich man c-c-coming.

(CHAINSAW doesn’t look up from his tattoo work.)

BART
What’s happening, JUNIOR?

JUNIOR
It’s, It’s all you, uh, dude.

CHAINSAW
What you got tonight, hotshot?

BART
Ham, cheese, mustard, mayo.

CHARLIE
Real ham?

BART
Turkey ham.

CHARLIE
Figures.

CHAINSAW
Gimme 2. Want one, Junior?

JUNIOR
Does a fat baby, uh, f-f-f-f-fart?

(CHAINSAW shakes his head.)

CHAINSAW
Make it 3, then. Go ahead and put it on “my” account, hotshot.

(BART reaches into his socks and pulls out the 3 sandwiches and hands them to JUNIOR)

CHAINSAW
Put ‘em on my rack, JUNIOR.

(JUNIOR puts the sandwiches on the bed.)

BART
Alright. Well, thanks, dudes.

JUNIOR
Hey, man, uh, you work in the elec-elec-electronics shop, right?

BART
Sorta. Just clerking, really. I can’t fix shit.

CHARLIE
Well, what’s the line on Pops? He works there, right?

(CHAINSAW digs his tattoo needle a little deeper.)

CHARLIE
Ow!

(CHAINSAW shoots a disapproving glare at JUNIOR, resumes his tattooing and shakes his head.)

BART
Well, the last I heard is ROBOCOP thought he swallowed a balloon of heroin on a visit a couple weeks ago. And he’s been in the hole and he won’t shit for, like, over a week or so.

JUNIOR
Uh, hmmm.

BART
At least that’s what OFFICER McCLUNG says.

(Silence. Broken by…)

CHARLIE
Well, they went up in him this morning at the County hospital and got it.

(CHAINSAW digs in deeper with the tattoo needle again.)

CHARLIE
Owww! Shit, dude!

BART & JUNIOR
What?

CHAINSAW
They fucking took him to the real world hospital and went up in him with a fucking proctoscope, and pulled the smack right out of his ass.

CHARLIE
(laughing)
I can’t believe he held his shit that long. That’s fucking crazy!

CHAINSAW
Well, he’s just a mean ol’ stubborn bastard. Fucking old school, cuz.

JUNIOR
You m-mean they went directly into his asshole with the, uh, procto, uh, whatever, and p-pulled the balloon f-full of dope out?

CHAINSAW
You’re a fucking genius, Einstein.

BART
Unbelieveable! Wow! I can’t believe he’s fucking doing heroin at his age.

CHARLIE
He wasn’t “doing it”, dumbass.

(CHAINSAW digs the tattoo gun into CHARLIE’S back again.)

CHARLIE
Ow! Godammit!

(CHAINSAW stops, shakes his head in disapproval, then resumes.)

BART
Oh….(realizing)Oh, I guess there’s some disappointed dudes who were counting on a fix, or whatever.

(CHARLIE and CHAINSAW slightly nod their heads. Awkward silence. Then,…)

BART
Alright, dudes. CHAINSAW, that’s 9.50 on your books.

(CHAINSAW stops tattooing, looks at BART in a deadpan, then resumes tattooing.)

(BART walks away.)

JUNIOR
See ya later, uh, B-B-Bruce Springsteen.


Scene #2 (Prison Chow Hall)


The Setting: The inmates, self-segregated as usual, are eating in the chow hall.

CONRAD
… so then this muthafuckin’ billie picks up a weight and throws it at my nigga!

JACKSON-EL
Dig, man. These muthafuckin’ white boys is tryin’ to regulate shit. So, I think it’s time for all us real niggas to lay down the law. You know what I’m sayin’?

ANTWAN
Word.

JACKSON-EL
So Friday night little Elvis’ band’s doing a show in the rec room. We gonna fuckin’ strap down and go up in ‘em. You know what I’m sayin’?

ANTWAN
Shit, nigga. You know me, homie. I’m down.

CONRAD
What about them Mexican muthafuckas, too?

JACKSON-EL
We gonna hit them, too. All them bitches got to know they ain’t runnin’ nothing. You know what I’m sayin’?

ANTWAN
Racist muthafuckas think they still in the world.

JACKSON-EL
You know what I’m sayin’, G?


CONRAD
So it’s on, then?

JACKSON-EL
Let’s shoot a move, my niggas.


SONG [WE AIN’T GONNA BITCH UP]

RUSTLE AT THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW
(From Scene 2, Act 3)

WE AIN'T GONNA BITCH UP
(Blacks)
[Sung by JACKSON-EL, ANTWAN, and CONRAD]


WE'RE GONNA BUST THEIR HEADS OPEN TO THE WHITE MEAT
IT AIN'T JUST A CHIN-CHECK
GONNA HIT 'EM IN THE NECK
I DON'T CARE IF I CATCH A NEW BEEF
PECKERWOODS AND ESES
STICK 'EM WITH MY NEW BLADE

WE AIN'T GONNA BITCH UP
'CAUSE WE'RE STRAIGHT UP
LET'S SHOOT A MOVE
WE'RE NUTTIN' UP

FRIDAY NIGHT I'M GONNA PUT MY SNEAKERS ON ME
NO DRY-SNITCHING TO THE HACK
GONNA BLOW THEIR WIG BACK
I'M DOWN WITH THE JITTERBUGS AND O.G. HOMIES
DON'T FUCK AROUND WITH MY NIGGAS
WE AIN'T SELLING WOLF TICKETS


WE AIN'T GONNA BITCH UP
'CAUSE WE'RE STRAIGHT UP
LET'S SHOOT A MOVE
WE'RE NUTTIN' UP


KEEP BUMPIN' YO' GUMS AND RUNNIN' YO' HEAD
YOU'LL NEVER EVER PUNK US OUT, UH-UH, THAT'S DEAD
YOU'D BETTER CATCH OUT, WE AIN'T GOT NO KICKINS
A SHARP PIECE IS WHAT YOU GET FOR YOUR DISSIN'

WE AIN'T GONNA BITCH UP
'CAUSE WE'RE STRAIGHT UP
LET'S SHOOT A MOVE
WE'RE NUTTIN' UP

CHAINSAW
…..so then this big-ass fucking monkey says, “What the fuck you looking at?”, and the shit just jumped off from there.

CHARLIE
Goddamned niggers think we’re soft. Always starting shit ‘cause they think we won’t bust a grape.

CHAINSAW
Well, now the word is the nigger’s a fake muslim. JACKSON-EL or Bey or whatever. And he’s got all the other fucking niggers in the joint cliquing up and they’re supposed to jump on us at the rec room Friday night.

JUNIOR
BART’S band’s p-p-playing, right?

CHAINSAW
Yeah.

JUNIOR
They still s-suck?

CHARLIE
Yeah, they still suck.

JUNIOR
So, what are we gonna d-d-do?

CHAINSAW
Well, I’m doing basketball numbers, so I’ll never see the world, anyway.
(Shrugs)
Guess I’ll bust out my piece and get it sharp.

CHARLIE
Well, you know this is my 4th bit, so I got the bitch. So, I got your back, dude.

(Both of them look at JUNIOR)

JUNIOR
I’m down. I’m tired of being p-punked out.

CHARLIE
What about the Brownies?

CHAINSAW
Fuck ‘em. If they’re there and they got a beef, I ain’t scared. I’ll fuck them up, too.

JUNIOR
Yeah, them motherfuckers are always sh-shitting in my sh-sh-shower.

CHAINSAW
Alright, then. Friday night. Spread the word.

SONG [THEIR ASS IS OUT]


THEIR ASS IS OUT
(Whites)
[Sung by CHAINSAW, CHARLIE, and JUNIOR]

I'M SHARPENING MY SHANK
WHAT? YOU THOUGHT I AIN'T?
YOU KNOW I'M DOWN, MY BROTHER
'CAUSE I'M A REAL MOTHERFUCKER

THEIR ASS IS OUT
SO CATCH A SQUARE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
YOU KNOW WHEN AND WHERE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
DON'T YOU PRESS YOUR BUNK
DON'T STAY IN YOUR HOUSE
DON'T YOU BE A PUNK
GOOD LOOKING OUT


TALKING OUT THE SIDE O' THEIR NECK
SHOWING TOO MUCH DISRESPECT
SPREAD THE WORD, SHOOT A KITE
WE'LL MAKE 'EM PAY FRIDAY NIGHT

THEIR ASS IS OUT
SO CATCH A SQUARE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
YOU KNOW WHEN AND WHERE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
DON'T PRESS YOUR BUNK
DON'T STAY IN YOUR HOUSE
DON'T YOU BE A PUNK
GOOD LOOKING OUT

I'M CALLING ALL THE HOGS
OLD-TIMERS AND ROAD DOGS
GONNA TWIST THEIR CAP, SPLIT THEIR WIG
GO UP IN 'EM WITH STEEL, YA DIG?

THEIR ASS IS OUT
SO CATCH A SQUARE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
YOU KNOW WHEN AND WHERE
THEIR ASS IS OUT
DON'T PRESS YOUR BUNK
DON'T STAY IN YOUR HOUSE
DON'T YOU BE A PUNK
GOOD LOOKING OUT

MARIO
….and then ese goes like this,
(imitates a roundhouse stabbing motion)
but instead of hitting the negro, he hits PELON’ right in the side.

CHINO
Ah, la verga!

FERNANDO
I’m telling you, holmes, we need to stand up for PELON’. The gringo y negro never even say “I’m sorry”.

MARIO
I heard they were laughing about it.

CHINO
Maybe I will laugh when I stick them in the fucking head!

FERNANDO
You will have your chance on Friday night, mi amigo.

CHINO
Por que el Viernes en la noche?

FERNANDO
La Banda Bartolo is performing another concert in the rec room Friday night. All of us emes are going to show up and pay them motherfuckers back for what they did to PELON’.

CHINO
I got a razorblade on a toothbrush.

MARIO
I got a big, shiny bonecrusher, vato.

FERNANDO
Emes for life?
(Looks at the others, who then nod in unison.)
Emes for life, holmes.


SONG [GONNA JACK ‘EM UP]

GONNA JACK 'EM UP
(Browns)
[Sung by FERNANDO, MARIO, and CHINO]

A RAZOR, A BANGER, A BURNER, A SHIV
DON'T CARE IF THEY DIE,
OR WHETHER THEY LIVE
BECAUSE OUR AMIGO GOT STUCK IN THE YARD
STRAPPED LIKE PONCHO VILLA, WE ARE

GONNA JACK 'EM UP
BONE-CRUSHER STYLE
AIN'T NO BACKING UP
AIN'T YOU HEARD ABOUT MY FILE?
GONNA JACK 'EM UP
WITH MY HOMEMADE KNIFE
GONNA JACK 'EM UP
'CAUSE I'M A EME FOR LIFE


GONNA CRACK SOME SKULLS ON VIERNES NOCHES
DOT SOME EYES AND STICK SOME HOMBRES
RUGHEADS AND BILLIES, YOU'D BETTER CHECK IN
OLA! CUCARACHA! NOTHING COMING FOR THEM

GONNA JACK 'EM UP
BONE-CRUSHER STYLE
AIN'T NO BACKING UP
AIN'T YOU HEARD ABOUT MY FILE?
GONA JACK 'EM UP
WITH MY HOMEMADE KNIFE
GONNA JACK 'EM UP
'CAUSE I'M A EME FOR LIFE


SCENE #3 (Prison Band Room)

The Setting: BART and MALTE, with guitars still strapped on, are in the band room and have just finished rehearsal. RIGOBERTO is leaving out the door.

BART
Thanks again, RIGOBERTO. You were really awesome today.

RIGOBERTO
No problem, amigo.Thank you. I like this new songs.

BART
Me, too. I think we’re on to something.

RIGOBERTO
Yes, the new song are very good for me.

BART
Alright, dude. See ya.

MALTE
Adios, RIGO.

(RIGOBERTO nods, closes the door and leaves.)

(Long pause…….)

MALTE
These new songs are really good.

BART
You really think so?

MALTE
Of course. What’s not to like? Don’t you like them?

BART
I love ‘em. I guess I’m just leery ‘cause nobody’s liked my shit, so far.

MALTE
But this new batch is way different. You’ll see. The show Friday night? Watch them go crazy.

BART
I don’t know, dude. It’s a tough crowd. Maybe if we had women and booze instead of popcorn and cokes.

MALTE
You worry too much. It’s going to be different this time. Trust me.

(Another long pause……)

BART
I don’t think we should do the show.

MALTE
What are you, crazy? We’re totally ready. The whole band’s got their parts down and everybody’s pumped up over our new style.

BART
It’s not that, dude. You hear about what some of the inmates are planning to do at the show?

MALTE
I heard about it. So what?

BART
So what!!!? They’re planning a fucking racial riot, that’s what.

MALTE
Listen, I’ve been in this penitentiary 8 years now. These clowns have been talking about doing that at least a dozen times. Nothing ever happens. Just a lot of talk.

BART
Well, I think they’re for real this time.

MALTE
Even if it is, you’ll have a good weapon.

BART
What?

MALTE
Your guitar. Ever heard of Sid Vicious?

BART
Yeah, I’ve heard of Sid Vicious.

MALTE
The point is, you’ve GOT to play the show. You can’t do your time scared.

BART
I don’t know, dude. I’m just feeling like I don’t want to.


SONG [IT’S A RACIAL RIOT]


IT'S A RACIAL RIOT
(From Scene 3, Act 3)
[Sung by BART]


I DON'T WANNA PLAY MY GUITAR NO MORE
NO A MINORS OR B SEVENTH CHORDS
DON'T WANNA PLAY A PENTATONIC SCALE
NO Z.Z. TOP, NO J.J. CALE

'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
BETTER KEEP QUIET ABOUT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
OR ELSE YOU'RE GONNA BUY IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT
GONNA BE A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
IT'S A RACIAL CRISIS (FRIDAY NIGHT)
NO MATTER HOW YOU SLICE IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
THERE'LL BE A RACIAL RIOT
(RACIAL RIOT?)
RACIAL RIOT!

I DON'T WANNA SING MY FAVORITE SONG
'CAUSE I'D JUST CHOKE AND I'D SING IT WRONG
DON'T WANNA PLAY THROUGH A NICE CHORD PROGRESSION
DON'T WANNA PLAY FOR THE GENERAL POPULATION

'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
BETTER KEEP QUIET ABOUT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
OR ELSE YOU'RE GONNA BUY IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT
GONNA BE A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
IT'S A RACIAL CRISIS (FRIDAY NIGHT)
NO MATTER HOW YOU SLICE IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
THERE'LL BE A RACIAL RIOT
(RACIAL RIOT?)
RACIAL RIOT!


DON'T WANNA SING THE NEW SONG I WROTE
DON'T WANNA EVEN PLAY ONE SINGLE NOTE
I DON'T WANNA BEND MY GUITAR STRINGS
I WON'T PLAY IT DIRTY, NOR PLAY IT CLEAN


'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
BETTER KEEP QUIET ABOUT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
OR ELSE YOU'RE GONNA BUY IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT
GONNA BE A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
IT'S A RACIAL CRISIS (FRIDAY NIGHT)
NO MATTER HOW YOU SLICE IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
THERE'LL BE A RACIAL RIOT
(RACIAL RIOT?)
RACIAL RIOT!

I DON'T WANNA COUNT OFF 1,2,3,4
DON'T WANNA COME BACK FOR ANOTHER ENCORE
I DON'T WANNA TAKE THE BAND TO THE BRIDGE
I DON'T WANNA PLAY NO MORE PRISON GIGS

'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
BETTER KEEP QUIET ABOUT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
OR ELSE YOU'RE GONNA BUY IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
'CAUSE IT'S A RACIAL RIOT
GONNA BE A RACIAL RIOT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
IT'S A RACIAL CRISIS (FRIDAY NIGHT)
NO MATTER HOW YOU SLICE IT (FRIDAY NIGHT)
THERE'LL BE A RACIAL RIOT
(RACIAL RIOT?)
RACIAL RIOT!


SCENE #4 (Veronica’s Bedroom)

The Setting: Veronica is hastily getting ready for a date, putting on her make-up, fixing her hair, etc…She has on a skirt, sexy blouse, and high-heeled shoes. Where Bart’s picture was (in her 2 earlier scenes), there is now a picture of a new guy. The following letter is not read live or aloud by her, but is narrated by her voice over the p.a. as she is getting ready.

VERONICA’S VOICE
Bart,
We have been through so much over the past year, I don’t even know where to begin.
I have loved you since the moment I first saw you that night at 423.
You were so fine up there on stage with your band.
I couldn’t believe you would even talk to me.
You have always treated me like a queen and made me feel so special. I didn’t even care where you got the money to buy me all those nice things.
I was so happy.
Like a kid in a candy store.

But, I’m not a kid anymore.
I’ve had to grow up in a hurry ever since you got in your trouble.
There have been some really rough times for me over the past year.
I’ve had to learn to take care of myself.
I couldn’t move back in with mom and dad, and I couldn’t afford to keep renting your condo.
I’ve had to make my own way. By myself.

It’s been hard on you, too. I know that.
But, it’s been even harder on “us”.
And it’s taken it’s toll on me. I’m at the end of my rope. I need a break.
Some time to myself to sort things out.
To seriously start thinking about my life and my future.
And whether or not “we” have a future together.

I honestly don’t know if I can take 6 more years of this.
Maybe we should just try to give our relationship a break for awhile.
I think it would do us both some good.

I know you are strong and you will someday come out of prison a better person.
Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
I just need some freedom to live a normal life and to be able to grow and learn.
Like other normal girls my age get to do.

I still love you and I will come to visit you whenever I can.
But, I think we should give our relationship a break.
I hope you understand. And you know I don’t mean to hurt you.

Well, that’s about all for now. Got to get some sleep.
You can write me back if you want to.
If you don’t, I understand.


(VERONICA picks up her purse and starts to rush out the door, but before she closes it, she goes back to the desk and picks up the pen to sign her name to the letter. Hesitates, then…)

VERONICA’S VOICE
Veronica

(VERONICA turns out the light and rushes out the door for her date.)

Lights Out.


SCENE #5 (Prison Cell)


* THE INSTRUMENTALS*

(ROCK MUSIC)


The Setting: CHAINSAW & JUNIOR are in their cell. CHAINSAW, sitting on the lower bunk, is filing the tip of his shank (a 7-inch crude icepick-looking piece with a makeshift wooden handle) with a folded piece of sandpaper. JUNIOR is kneeling at the foot of the bunkbed and fumbling around with something. He pulls a small “palm-shank” from somewhere on/under the bunk, then stands and shows it to CHAINSAW. CHAINSAW nods and smiles. CHAINSAW gets off the bed, then they both stash their weapons in their socks and leave the cell.

Lights Out.


(MUSIC CHANGES TO FUNK)

The Setting: ANTWAN & JACKSON-EL are in their cell. ANTWAN is kneeling before the

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bartbryars
bartbryars
About This Story
Audience:
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Posted:
21 Mar, 2011
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