larry slade is full of it: act 2, scene 2

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic

jane makes vic a salad. explosions ensue.

SCENE 2

 

VIC’s Apartment, Dinnertime

 

VIC sits at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette while cable news blares in the background. JANE enters with a bag of groceries. JANE and VIC stare at each other. She removes lettuce from a bag; Vic takes a drag. She removes broccoli; VIC takes another drag. She removes some tomatoes. VIC flicks ash into his hand and rubs it around until his palm is totally grey. 

 

VIC: I don’t know what good you think that will do. 

 

JANE: Vegetables are good for you. Only idiots and little kids don’t know that. 

 

VIC: Well, I’m certainly not a fully-developed adult. 

 

JANE: Come on, you’re almost 70. 

 

VIC: Our president’s older and they say he has the mind of a toddler. 

 

JANE: I’m not doing this...it’s boring. 

 

VIC (impressed): Oh, is it?

 

JANE just ignores him and goes to the kitchen. 

 

VIC: You won’t be able to find anything… And there’s no point cleaning up. You heard the doctor--I’ll be dead soon anyway. 

 

JANE: He didn’t say that. 

 

VIC: Well, that’s what I remember. I distinctly recall--

 

JANE: Gaslighting.

 

JANE rummages through cabinets, removing items throughout. Meanwhile, VIC gets up from his seat and crosses to her, ending up right in here face. 

 

VIC: Who are you, The Squad?

 

JANE: Hey. I like them. 

 

VIC: Like them? What’s there to like?

 

JANE: A lot. 

 


VIC: Well, I suppose if you like your public servants to be ignorant of basic civics.

 

JANE: That was a gotcha moment. 

 

VIC: And if you like idiots who want to wreck the entire social order so they get more “likes.”

 

JANE: Stop. 

 

VIC: I mean, the Anti-Semite is the only vaguely fuckable one. 

 

JANE: Stop. You’re a socialist. 

 

VIC: There can be no socialist state. It’s a contradiction in terms. 

 

JANE starts cutting up vegetables for the salad, growing more and more frantic as she does. 

 


JANE: Why aren’t you throwing bombs?

 

VIC: I’m not stupid. Those sheep are too comfortable to ever wake up. 

 

JANE: I thought you hated Trump. 

 

VIC: I do. 

 

JANE: You sound just like him. 

 

VIC: When in Rome, sweetheart. 

 

With that, JANE takes the knife she’s been cutting with and swings at him. Shocked but present, he backs up and falls down, knocking over the table with the ashtray. It rains down on him. He smiles, wide. 

 

VIC: What would AOC say? 

 

JANE: I don’t care. You’re eating this salad. 

 

JANE crosses to VIC, looks down at him contemptuously, picks up the table, and brushes some ash from her arm. VIC keeps smiling. 

 

JANE: Get in your chair. 

 

VIC: I rather like it down here. 

 

JANE: Are you serious. 

 

VIC: As a heart attack. Pun very much intended. 

 

JANE makes a noise like a caged animal. She bends down and links arms with her father, pulling him up, ever so slowly. After several failed attempts, she manages to pick him up and dump him in the chair. She crosses to the salad and flings some into a bowl, grabs a fork, and marches back over to VIC. She sits across from her father and puts bowl and fork in front of him. He hasn’t moved this whole time, and he doesn’t now. She shakes her head.

 

JANE: Eat it. 

 

VIC: …

 

JANE: Eat it!

 

VIC: …

 

JANE: Eat it, you fucking asshole!

 

VIC: ...

 

JANE: FIne. 

 

She reaches over and pinches his nose. He still offers no resistance. She forkes some salad and holds it close to his mouth. After a long time, he gasps and she sticks the fork in. He gafs and pushes her hand away. He spits out the food, a trickle of blood following it. After a beat, he swings at the salad bowl, sending the contents flying. JANE gets down on her knees to clean it up. VIC starts to laugh. She starts sobbing. He tries to keep laughing, but he can’t. Slowly, he calms down, eventually becoming stone-faced.

 

VIC: If you think it’s gonna be that easy… You can’t do this without Alex. You know that. She was always the smart one. You know that. No, you better just leave me alone. Well?

 

JANE stops crying. She stands up and goes to the couch, removes a blanket. 

 

VIC: What are you doing. 

 

JANE: I’m moving in. 

 

VIC: Where will you sleep? 

 

JANE: Your bed. 

 

VIC: Where am I going to sleep?

 

JANE: The couch. 

 

End Scene. 

 


Submitted: January 31, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Tony Chiba. All rights reserved.

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