Booksiea

Spam Sketch

By: Georgi Daverov

Page 1, Let that be referred to all who find spamming annoying. You are not alone.

Spam

By Georgi Daverov

Characters:

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.

Boy: But…

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.

Boy: Speechless

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. . .

Owner: Yes!

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.

Owner: Classy!

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.

Owner: All…

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?

Owner: Yeap.

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.

Boy: What?

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”?

Boy: What?

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”

Boy: No.

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?”

Boy: Huh?

Owner: It is, it is “Donnie Brasco.”

Boy: May be.

Owner: God, you suck as an actor. Stick to slaughtering.