Saturday 16 April 2011

Chris Port Blog #198. 'The Party' Scene 14. Fighting over cigarettes.

© Chris Port, 1994. All rights reserved.

Scene 14.
Narrator, Trouble 1, Trouble 2, Brenda.
Fighting over cigarettes.

NARRATOR
She’s not the only one. People get so easily wound up these days. I mean, take these two. (Indicates Trouble 1 who is talking to a girl and Trouble 2 who is standing near Trouble 1’s jacket). Now, most fights start over nothing. A spilled drink. A wrong look. Someone parking in your driveway. People have been killed over less. I mean, logically, how many things are that important they make you want to kick someone’s teeth into a mouthful of broken polo mints? Road rage? Well, its not logic, is it? It’s something else. What’s called the ‘escalating “yeah?” syndrome’.

The preamble to most fights is pretty much the same. Grievance. Counter-grievance. Challenge and counter-challenge. “Yeah?” and counter “Yeah?” rising ever higher in pitch until eventually something has got to give way. And usually, it’s the other bastard’s front teeth.

(Trouble 1 leaves the girl he is talking to. He approaches Trouble 2 who is smoking a cigarette. Trouble 1 goes to retrieve his jacket next to where Trouble 2 is standing).

TROUBLE 1
‘Scuse, mate. (He picks up his jacket and feels inside the breast pocket. He frowns and then feels the inside pocket).

TROUBLE 2
Anything wrong?

TROUBLE 1
Me fags. I put me fags in this pocket and they’re not here.

TROUBLE 2
Oh. You sure?

TROUBLE 1
Yeah. Where’d you get that fag from?

TROUBLE 2
What?

TROUBLE 1
That fag. Where’d you get it from?

TROUBLE 2
I got me own.

TROUBLE 1
Show me.

TROUBLE 2
What’s it got to do with you, mate?

TROUBLE 1
I want to see what brand they are.

(Trouble 2 takes out a packet of Sovereign from his breast pocket).

TROUBLE 2
Here. Alright? (He goes to put them back in his pocket but Trouble 1 snatches them out of his hand). Oi!

TROUBLE 1
These are mine! You thieving git!

TROUBLE 2
No they’re not! Give them back! (He goes to snatch the packet back again but Trouble 1 holds them out of reach).

TROUBLE 1
I smoke Sovereign. You nicked them from me jacket.

TROUBLE 2
You calling me a thief?

TROUBLE 1
Yeah. Want to make something of it?

TROUBLE 2
Loads of people smoke Sovereign you knob-end. I bought these tonight down the corner shop.

TROUBLE 1
Yeah? I ain’t seen you smoking tonight ‘til you stood near me jacket. And now me fags are gone. What am I supposed to think, eh?

TROUBLE 2
Nothing to do with me mate. Now, are you going to give me fags back or am I going to smack you in the mouth?

TROUBLE 1
You’re asking for it, mate.

TROUBLE 2
Yeah?

(They start squaring up to each other).

TROUBLE 1
Yeah?

TROUBLE 2
Yeah? Reckon yourself then, do you?

TROUBLE 1
Yeah? Come on then, mate.

(Trouble 2 lays into Trouble 1. Brenda sees them, rushes over and splits them up).

BRENDA
Stop it! Break it up now. (Trouble 1 and Trouble 2 subside and glare at each other). Now, what are you fighting about?

TROUBLE 2
He’s got me fags.

TROUBLE 1
He nicked them. They’re mine.

BRENDA
You shouldn’t be smoking anyway.

BOTH TROUBLES
Oh don’t start!

TROUBLE 1
They’re my fags. He nicked them from me jacket.

TROUBLE 2
Lying git. I got them down the corner shop.

BRENDA
(To Trouble 1). Which pocket did you put them in?

TROUBLE 1
(Picking up his jacket and indicating breast pocket). This one. He’s been standing next to it all night.

BRENDA
Check your other pockets.

TROUBLE 1
I definitely put them in this one.

BRENDA
Check your other pockets.

(Trouble 1 grumpily checks the right side pocket).

TROUBLE 1
Nothing.

BRENDA
And the other side.

(Trouble 1 puts his hand in the left side pocket, frowns, then pulls out a packet of Sovereign cigarettes).

TROUBLE 1
Oh. I got me fags.

TROUBLE 2
You arsehole. Give me back mine.
(Trouble 1 throws packet to Trouble 2).

TROUBLE 1
Sorry mate.

TROUBLE 2
Piss off.

TROUBLE 1
Yeah?

BRENDA
That’s enough. It’s all sorted now. Go on. (She gestures for Trouble 1 to go away).

TROUBLE 2
(Opening packet and looking inside). Hold on. I haven’t smoked this many. Oi! You’ve got my fags. These are yours.

TROUBLE 1
Don’t know what you mean, mate.

(Trouble 2 moves towards him. Trouble 1 runs and they both exit).

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