Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Sideways

Novel By: JetBlakk
Humor



OK, OK, I am cheating again. This is another play I wrote a while back that was produced in Australia during the 2002 International Melbourne Fringe Festival, and the 2003 International Melbourne Comedy Festival. It was a real crowd pleaser, if you want to put it on just let me know. Incidently, it was written and produced a couple of years before a film of the same name, just for the record... View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4

Submitted:Apr 1, 2007    Reads: 117    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


SIDEWAYS

Written by

Aaron Smith

Copyright 2002 Aaron Smith

SIDEWAYS is a humorous take on the world of real estate, drugs, hemorrhoids and the secret of happiness. A lateral look at life and the quest for knowledge amongst the distractions of a modern world. The depressing reality of life has never seen so funny.

SIDEWAYS is set in any modern city. The period is now.

CHARACTERS

SHANE: 20-30 year old.� Unemployed. Deals drugs, takes drugs. He's street smart and hangs out with Mad Dog.

MAD DOG: 20-30 year old. Unemployed. Also deals and takes drugs. Comes from a well to do family. Considers himself a bit of an artist and a philosopher. He tells it how it is. Hangs out with Shane to get street cred.

EDDIE: 30-45 year old.� Real estate agent. A real loose cannon. Takes drugs, smokes, drinks and eats badly. Sexist, racist and violent the guy we love to hate.

DOCTOR: 30-45 year old. General practitioner. Has some issues. Mad Dog's big brother. Anal, suppressed and involved in a shady side line.

MICHAEL: 30-40 year old. Real estate agent. Straight, a safe player. Never seen the wild side of life. Suburban, middle class and on the verge of an epiphany.

WAITER: Just doing his job.

JEWELLER: 30-40 year old. A bit of a dreamer, doesn't have a good head for business. Mum gives him a hard time. Reluctantly knows Eddie.

SCENE 1

Techno music starts. Shane, a drugged up looking raver, is weighing and bagging small packages of white powder. Mad Dog, another drugged up raver, enters and places a beer in front of Shane and starts dancing to the music, Michael, a business man in a suit, also enters and starts dancing.

MAD DOG

You gotta think laterally, gotta find an angle.

SHANE

What?

MAD DOG

You gotta think laterally, gotta find an angle.

SHANE

What, as opposed to thinking straight. Snort any more of that shit mate and you'll

be thinking sideways.

MAD DOG

All the loop holes are sewn up, all the bases covered. That's the way they want it.

Think we're ever gunna get ahead working some job our whole lives.

SHANE

We're on the fucking dole mate.

MAD DOG

Exactly my point. See they think they have us just where they want us, but they

don't do they?

SHANE

Don't they?

MAD DOG

No they don't

SHANE

Who the fuck are they anyway?

MAD DOG

The collective them, the fucking machine. I hate those bastards. But we're

fucking them aren't we?

SHANE

How the fuck are we doing that?

MAD DOG

We're sitting here drinking eight dollars beers snorting shit, and we're not running

the race.

SHANE

What race?

MAD DOG

The rat race.

SHANE

So, you reckon cos' we're sitting here snorting shit and drinking eight dollar beers, on the dole; that we are fucking the collective them?

MAD DOG

Yep cos' we're smart, we think lateral, we've got an angle.

SHANE

Thought we needed an angle, thought that was your whole fucking point?

MAD DOG

We need a new angle.

SHANE

What's wrong with this one?

MAD DOG

It's shit.

SHANE

What's our angle anyway?

MAD DOG

The shit.

SHANE

The shit?

MAD DOG

The shit.

SHANE

What fucking shit?

MAD DOG

This fucking shit!

Points at the powder on the table.

SHANE

Now you're talking side ways.

MAD DOG

We are soldiers of fortune undermining the system, we're the rot. We're

merchants of chaos. We're fucking revolutionaries.

SHANE

We sell fucking drugs mate.

MAD DOG

It pays for the eight dollar beers and it pays for the shit.

SHANE

We wouldn't need to sell the shit if we didn't snort the shit; and if we didn't snort

the shit we wouldn't drink so many eight dollar beers. If we didn't drink so many

eight dollar beers we wouldn't need to sell the shit. If we stopped snorting the shit, we wouldn't be in the shit.

MAD DOG

Wanna line?

SHANE

Shit yeah

Both snort lines both drink their beers.

MAD DOG

So we need a new angle.

SHANE

Oh Christ, not this shit again.

MAD DOG

There's more than one way to skin a cat mate.

SHANE

OK.

MAD DOG

Take a bag of fruit for example.

SHANE

A bag of fruit, you're nuts.

MAD DOG

A bag of fruit can make all the difference

�(Silence)

It can change a man.

SHANE

Oh I think I'm with you. It's like this friend of a friend of mine. He had hemorrhoids. For years he was always complaining and sticking all these different creams on his anus ring, but nothing worked. Eventually his flat mate got so sick of hearing him complain and watching him scratch his arse, that he made him go to the doctor. The doctor stuck his finger up his arse and said he'd got a swollen vein sticking out of his anus ring, which is basically what a hemorrhoids is.

MAD DOG

What the fuck are you talking about? Stop saying anus ring, it's doing my head

in.

SHANE

I'm talking about fruit, like you. See the doctor told this guy to eat more fruit,

more fibre. To make the swollen vein go back up his anus ring.

MAD DOG

I'm not talking about anus rings you sick fuck. I'm talking about a bag of fruit, a

fucking suit for Christ's sake.

SHANE

Oh.

MAD DOG

With a suit a man can do anything.

SHANE

I'd never wear a suit, neither would you.

MAD DOG

Maybe we should, it would give us an angle.

SHANE

What, with shoulder pads?

MAD DOG

I saw this film once about a guy that robs convenience stores in America,

wearing a suit. He always got away with it, cos' the suit made him invisible.

SHANE

Was it a magic suit?

MAD DOG

Don't be a dickhead.

SHANE

Well how can a suit make you fucking invisible?

MAD DOG

You're missing the point.

SHANE

No, the point is missing from your , well ...point.

MAD DOG

A suit allows you to blend in, gives you an air of authority, respectability,

credibility. Put a liar in a suit and we will believe him, put a psychopath in a suit

and we will trust him. It's all about psychology.

SHANE

So where's the angle?

MAD DOG

OK, Take this friend of a friend of mine. He's just a scumbag, you know like you and me.

SHANE

Speak for your self mate.

MAD DOG

Anyway, he hires a suit and goes into a jewelry store and asks to look at some

big diamond ring. Cos' he's wearing a suit, they trust him. They get it out and let

him hold it. Then, he sticks it under the counter with a piece of chewing gum and

pretends to drop it on the floor.

SHANE

How did he know the chewing gum was there?

MAD DOG

He put it there before he got the ring.

SHANE

Was he chewing the gum or holding it on his finger when he walked into the

store.

MAD DOG

He was chewing the fucking gum, who'd walk into a jewelry store with a piece of

gum stuck on their finger?

SHANE

I wouldn't trust someone in a suit chewing gum, sounds dodgey.

MAD DOG

Yeah but you don't work in a jewelry store.

SHANE

Point taken.

MAD DOG

Anyway, he says to the shop keeper that he dropped the ring on the floor. They all look for it. The shop keeper freaks out and calls the cops. They come, they

search him, they find nothing and have to let him go. Half an hour later his

girlfriend goes in and picks the ring out of the gum, from under the counter and

splits.

SHANE

Why don't they look under the counter? I would, If someone walked into a jewelry

store, chewing gum, and asks to look at a ring, then when he says he's dropped

the fucking thing and you can't find it and he isn't chewing gum anymore. Where

else would you stick a piece of gum when you've finished with it?

MAD DOG

You're missing the point again, it's a good angle. He was thinking laterally

SHANE

Yeah if you know a really dumb jewelry store owner.

(silence)

OK, I get it, I've got angle. A suit and a business card.

MAD DOG

That could work, what's the angle.

SHANE

Well a friend of a friend of mine, would wear a suit and have a business card that

said he was a real estate agent. Actually I think he was a real estate agent. He

would knock on people's doors and offer to do a free evaluation of their property,

and some of them would say yes and show him around their house.

MAD DOG

Oh that's fucking brilliant that is!

SHANE

Ah, but here's the angle. While they were showing him around their house he

would case the joint. Then a couple of days later, he'd go back, in his suit and

knock on the door. If there was no answer, he would just kick the fucking door

down, walk in, cool as a cucumber and rip the place off. Man, this guy would go

and break into someone's house even if he was just hungry, to make a sandwich,

even if they were home in a different room.

MAD DOG

I don't know man, he sounds like a real fucking psychopath.

SHANE

Thought you said you'd trust a psychopath in a suit.

MAD DOG

I'd never trust any prick in a suit

SHANE

Me neither man, me neither.

Shane exits, Eddie, another business man in a suit enters, Mad Dog Exits.

SCENE 2

Eddie is bent over, facing the audience, with his trousers round his ankles, the Doctor is behind him, it looks like they are having sex.

EDDIE

That's it, yes, ohh, arhh, how big is it?

DOCTOR

It's really swollen, fully engorged.

EDDIE

Arhh

DOCTOR

How's that?

EDDIE

It hurts.

DOCTOR

I'll be gentle

EDDIE

Oh please do.

DOCTOR

I want to go a little deeper.

EDDIE

If you must.

DOCTOR

Brace yourself.

EDDIE

Ahh.

DOCTOR

Yes, that's it, I can feel all the way now.

EDDIE

Have you finished yet?

DOCTOR

Not quite.

EDDIE

Ohhh.

DOCTOR

Does it hurt when I do this?

EDDIE

Yes.

DOCTOR

And this?

EDDIE

Fuck yes

DOCTOR

The Doctor stands back, and walks away from Eddie, he has a look of sadistic pleasure on his face.

Ok, you can pull your trousers up now.

EDDIE

Eddie pulls his trousers up.

Well what do you think doc?

DOCTOR

Doctor picks up his folder and starts writing notes, he's not looking at Eddie.

You have a hyper-extended thrombosis of the sphincter.

EDDIE

Jesus, that sounds serious.

DOCTOR

Not really, in layman's terms you have a swollen vein sticking out of your anus ring.

EDDIE

What the hell is that?

DOCTOR

Hemorrhoids.

EDDIE

Oh.

DOCTOR

Doctor writes out a script and hands it to Eddie, then puts down his folder.

I can prescribe something to help reduce the swelling. However, for any real improvement you have to seriously re-asses your diet.

EDDIE

You want me to eat fucking rabbit food, ...hippie shit.

DOCTOR

You have to reduce your intake of processed foods and eat more fruit and vegetables.

EDDIE

Fucking rabbit food.

DOCTOR

This is your body's way of saying...

EDDIE

I'm not eating rabbit food, real men eat meat.

DOCTOR

Listen. The hemorrhoids are merely the tip of the iceberg. Your blood pressure is high, cholesterol level through the roof, you smoke too much and eat too many rich foods. You are in a high-risk group for heart attack. I'm telling you straight, you have got to change your ways or you will be sorry.

EDDIE

Eddie struggles to pull his shirt back over his head as he speaks.

Too much, you're telling me that my living too much is killing me?

DOCTOR

Doctor walks back to his desk and starts writing again.

I didn't say that.

EDDIE

The path to self knowledge is not through moderation but through madness and excess, that's what they say isn't it?

DOCTOR

Not looking at Eddie as he continues writing.

Maybe, however, 'they' also say that the brighter the light of the candle, the faster it burns.

EDDIE

Well that's just great isn't it? Sixty-hour weeks, working my way up from the bottom; for what? To be told that my lifestyle is killing me. The smokes, the booze, the good food... it's my stress relief Doc.

Doctor walks back over to Eddie and starts looking inside his ears.

DOCTOR

Maybe you shouldn't work so much, then you wouldn't need to indulge in so much 'stress relief'

EDDIE

I can't cut down on my workload. I have expenses, the mortgage, the credit cards, the kid's school fees. I have to maintain an image. I damn well like these luxuries; they make life worth living. I'm not going to live like some ordinary smuck, struggling. Fucked if I'm going to be a battler, 'scuse my French, but fuck that Doc.

DOCTOR

Doctor starts looking inside Eddie's mouth, who has his tongue stuck out.

It's your choice. However, as your doctor I must advise you that you either give up smoking, go on a diet and start to do some exercise, or face the possibility of a premature death.

EDDIE

The lights dim, Doctor freezes, Eddie backs away as he speaks at the Doctor.

Death. Death has such finality. I don't want to die. I'm too young. Jesus, death. Blackness, cold silence, for eternity.

Eddie faces the audience.

What happens after death. Is there a God? No fucking way.� Religion, it's just for the weak and feeble minded, so they can cope. So they can delude themselves from the unimaginable, that after they die, they cease to exist. Heaven, what a scam, do the right thing your whole life, for what? A cloud and a harp? What a crock.

Eddie drops to his knees and starts to manically pray, pleading to God..

Oh God please forgive me, don't send me to hell. I know I've been a bad person.

I'm sorry that I picked on that German kid at school. I shouldn't have said that his dad was Adolph Hitler, that my grandfather killed his grandfather. I shouldn't have smashed up his push bike.

How was I too know he'd end up becoming some psycho mass murderer, I was just a kid. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'll change my ways, I won't swindle any more pensioners, or newly weds. I'll even pay my taxes for Christ sake.�

Eddie stands up, brushing off his knees, regaining his composure.

�(beat) Don't see why I should though, really.� I mean you are the supreme architect, you made me the way I am, who I am I to question your design. They say you work in mysterious ways. Maybe I'm just doing God's work.

Eddie returns to his original pose with the Doctor. The Doctor unfreezes, continuing to look in his mouth.

Death! Doc, I've got the constitution a Mallee bull.

DOCTOR

Well, it's your choice.

The Doctor finishes looking in Eddie's mouth and returns to his desk.

EDDIE

Freight train couldn't stop me.

Eddie sits down, then jumps up in pain, rubbing his arse, he tries again slowly, sitting gingerly on the side of the chair, on one arse cheek.

You can always trace it back to childhood, can't you?

DOCTOR

Trace what back?

EDDIE

The way we are, how we act. Like the bully that was never hugged by his mum enough, or the mass murderer who was teased at school.

DOCTOR

Well it is considered that we have learnt 80% of what we know by the age of five.

EDDIE

No shit! Spent my childhood in front of the telly. So most of my head is filled with fucking Fat Cat and Friends, great.�

DOCTOR

Look we really should wrap this up; I have a lot of patients to see today.

EDDIE

I used to have this recurring nightmare when I was a kid. I was running down this road, it was always dark and I was always alone. I was running away from someone, or something that was chasing me. I never saw who or what it was, I just knew that I had to get away, that I couldn't let it catch me, it was terrifying. But the faster I tried to run, the heavier my legs would become, until they were like lead. Then the road would start to go all gooey and I would start to sink, with the thing catching up behind me. I would wake up screaming.

DOCTOR

The Doctor is still not really listening.

I see.

EDDIE

The dreams have started again Doc; I wake up every night in a cold sweat, panicking. It feels like the thing is getting closer. So I don't sleep much, too scared the thing will get me. Sometimes I think of killing myself, or worse. Sometimes I have really dark thoughts, like I want to do bad things. I feel like I'm losing my grip.

DOCTOR

The Doctor closes the door and leads him back to his desk, he looks interested in Eddie again.

Hmmm, sounds to me that the lack of sleep may be causing a psychosis that is compounding your underlying depression.

EDDIE

Depression, I never thought of myself as being depressed.

DOCTOR

The Doctor starts writing another script out for Eddie

Oh yes, it's the scourge of the modern world, most people suffer from it at some point or another. I will prescribe you some Valium and some Prozac, that should help cheer you up.

EDDIE

That shit's for yuppies and housewives. It would take the edge off me. Nah, in my line of work I gotta be sharp, on the ball.

DOCTOR

The Doctor rips up the script. And removes a pill jar from under the counter.

Yes, quite, look there is something. It's new, not on the market yet, well not officially. It should eliminate the nightmares. It may even increase your performance levels

EDDIE

Eddie looks excited as he reaches for the pills.

Now you're talking

DOCTOR

The Doctor is still holding the pill jar.

There may be some side effects, increased testosterone production,

EDDIE

No worries, I've got heaps already, bit more won't hurt.

DOCTOR

Especially if taken in conjunction with stimulants.

EDDIE

I'll be good, scout's honour

DOCTOR

And it's not cheap.

EDDIE

Eddie removes his wallet from his pocket.

Neither am I Doc.

DOCTOR

You'll have to keep it hush hush, at least until its officially released.

EDDIE

Eddie hands the Doctor his credit card.

Mum's the word.

DOCTOR

Actually, I'd prefer cash, err fifty.

EDDIE

Laughs as he hands the Doctor some money.

People have to put I lot of trust in you, don't they. I mean where else in society does a person take off their clothes, upon request, then bend over and have a stranger put a hand up their arse. With the exception of a hooker you really have a unique role to play. Telling people they are going to die, giving them drugs, it's a hell of a responsibility. How do you cope?

DOCTOR

I must maintain a professional distance from my patients, it is imperative.

EDDIE

Yeah, I guess.

DOCTOR

Doctor opens the door as Eddie walks out.

Next please.

As Eddie leaves, Mad Dog enters, they briefly look at each other, he has a bloody tissue stuck up his nose.

Lights fade to black.





0

| Email this story Email this Novel | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.