By Georgi Daverov
Store Owner: in his fifties
Boy: in his twenties
We see the Store Owner behind the desk, busy with a daily routine as the boy enters, caring a shoulder bag filled with leaflets.
Boy: Excuse me!
Owner: Yes, please!
Boy: There is an open–air slaughter on the square next Friday and I. . .
Owner: Me like slaughter! Love it! (Pause) Proceed.
Boy: Yeah. Well. That’s.., that’s actually great. I do it with a bunch of friends. That’s truly our premiere slaughter and…
Owner: Is it in English?
Boy: Come again!
Owner: English. Is it in English?
Boy: Is what in English?
Owner: This slaughter of yours, is it in English? ‘Cause otherwise I’ll be challenged.
Boy: It’s a silent slaughter, sir.
Owner: Mhm, never been to a silent slaughter before, how much is a pre-sale?
Boy: It’s free pro.
Owner: Mhm… (Pause) Interesting!
Boy: See, the thing is, we wanna slaughter as many people as we possibly can so I figured we can may be…
Owner: . . .slaughter me? (Pause) . As much as I’d love to I’m unable to attend. Friday is a busy one.
Owner: My daughter on the other hand (shouting towards the kitchen) MURIEL, my daughter has no plans, I believe. I always thought she was born for this. She has it inside her, you know.
Boy: Look sir, that’s great, but (otherworldly overweight girl walks out the kitchen)... fuck me she has it inside her. What is it, a lamb that’s inside her?
Owner: Told ya!
Boy: Holy molly!
Owner: Told ya, didn’t I?
Boy: Yes. You. Did!
Owner: Take a look at these flakes.
Owner: Isn’t that an inviting piece of bacon. How about you take a knife, huh? Slice that big, fat throat, rip the shit outta her insides.
Boy: How about that?
Owner: You wanna give it a try?
Boy: You mean. . .
Boy: What? Like right now?
Owner: Be my guest.
Boy: I’m afraid free-style slaughtering is not exactly my area of expertise.
Owner: Mark my word, kid. I won’t be judgmental.
Boy: Say no more! (Pulls out two gigantic machetes from under his coat, starts slaughtering the girl)
Owner: (Impressed) Nice one brother,… that’s what I call a blood bath (boy baths with a blood soaking sponge)… she’s loving it, look at her, look at her face,… ops, face is gone… how about a nice ending ,… come on,… chop – chop,… a-a-and a curtain(covers the body). Perfect timing! Perfect timing, you promising young man!
Boy: Thank you.
Owner: Spectacular, spectacular.
Boy: You think so?
Owner: What an outstanding…
Boy: Thank you.
Owner: …breathtaking slaughter!
Boy: Thank you.
Owner: Seriously, where did you get those moves?
Boy: They came to me naturally.
Owner: What do you mean?
Boy: Well, daddy was a butcher, you see, mother was a swine so…
Owner: It was the surroundings.
Boy: Indeed, he caught her in her sleep with a circular saw.
Boy: My father was all about classy.
Owner: You are a lucky guy, my friend.
Boy: Blessed. However ,(Pause) nothing comes without an effort.
Owner: Of course. Should’ve been years and years of training.
Boy: You can say that again. I had like seven sisters.
Boy: …pigs like their mother. Every single one of ‘em.
Owner: Seven benevolent elephants to master your skill on.
Boy: Wait. I think I have a photo somewhere.
Owner: Oh, don’t bother.
Boy: There it is. You see the one with a lemon in her mouth?
Boy: That’s my kid sister.
Owner: She looks terrific in that plate.
Boy: Delicious, isn’t she?
Owner: No doubt
Boy: OK. (Puts the photo back into his pocket) Well, anyways, as I said, premier is next Friday so I wondered we could may be leave some flyers by…
Owner: FUCK NO! What are you talking about, leaving flyers in my bar, motherfucker, ‘you crazy? Bitch!
Boy: ‘You kidding me? I just wanna leave e few brochures by you, no big deal.
Owner: No big deal? You come in here with that sweet slaughter talk, having a chit-chat with me, getting under my skin. You act like a friend, butcher my daughter and shit. All of a sudden you try spamming the place behind my back!
Boy: What do you mean behind your back, I asked you straight away.
Owner: You’re fired!
Boy: I don’t work for you.
Owner: Then you’re hired.
Owner: It’s God’s rock!
Boy: This doesn’t even make sense.
Owner: Listen you juvenile delinquent, you either leave my bar this instant or I’m calling the authorities!
Boy: How did you call me?
Owner: Yes. (Pause) AUTHORITIES.
Boy: You calling me authorities, you know who you ‘talkin’ to, my friend?
Owner: Was that a line from a movie scene?
Boy: Don’t change the subject!
Owner: It was a line from a movie scene, wasn’t it?
Boy: Stop this!
Owner: Was that from “Hotshots”?
Boy: Just answer the question!
Owner: What question?
Boy: DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU ‘TALKIN’ TO?
Owner: It’s you, I’m talking to you.
Boy: Well, I’m known. (Pause)Every single corner store in that city, forget about it, I’m known all over the fuckin’ world.
Owner: You are? (Pause) Really?
Boy: Shut up! (Pause) What are you doing, walking out on me?
Owner: I’m not walking out on you.
Boy: I said shut up!
Owner: Seriously, It’s my bar, where am I gonna go?
Boy: You don’t walk out on me. I walk out on you.
Owner: (Pause)OK (Pause) You’ re not walking. Is it “Mean Streets”?
Owner: It’s “Mean Streets,” isn’t it? The movie scene, you’re doing.
Boy: Enough with the damn movie scene
Owner: “A Fish called Wanda”
Owner: “The Beatles”
Boy: That’s not a movie.
Owner: There is a movie
Boy: It’s called “A hard day’s night”
Owner: No, It’s called “The Beatles: From Liverpool to San Francisco”
Boy: That’s a documentary
Owner: Does it matter?
Boy: YES, it does matter, NO, it’s not “The Beatles: From Liverpool to San Francisco”
Owner: Was it “Donnie Brasco?”
Owner: It is, it is “Donnie Brasco.”
Boy: May be.
Owner: God, you suck as an actor. Stick to slaughtering.