Friday, October 3, 2008

Desolation, Day Four

Friday, October 3, 2008
Lights up on a suburban cul de sac. Johnny, Eric and Barry play football. Johnny is instantly recognizable as the most gifted proponent of the art of three-and-in. We watch him run rings around his playmates for a time, before:

Johnny's Mother: Johnny! Your dinner.

Johnny catches the ball.

Johnny: Gotta go.

Eric: Fuck. Fine then. See you after.

Johnny: I'm not coming back out. I have to go to training.

Eric: Oh right.

Barry: Can you leave us the ball?

Johnny: Nah, sorry.

Barry: Yeah, ok.. See you later.

Johnny: I'm not coming back out.

Barry: Jesus. Fine. See you tomorrow then.

Johnny: Yeah, maybe.

Eric: The fuck do you mean maybe? We play three-and-in every fucking day after homework.

Johnny: Yeah, but...

Eric: Yeah but what?

Johnny's mother: (drunkenly) Johnny, get your fat ass in here now and eat your fucking cornflakes!

Johnny: I have to go.

Eric: Yeah, yeah. See you later.

Johnny leaves, with ball.

Eric: Cunt.

Barry: Well...

Eric: Well, what?

Barry: He had to go in.

Eric: Yeah. But he could have left us the ball.

Barry: It's his ball. His Ma doesn't let him. Anyway, I've got a tennis ball, we can use that.

Eric: And the fuck was he talking about 'maybe'?

Barry: I don't know.

Eric: He thinks he's so fucking great.

Barry: I guess.

Eric: What do you mean, you guess?

Barry: Nothing. Let's play with the tennis ball.

Eric: Oh, for fuck's sake.

Barry: What?

Eric: It's not the same thing is it? And anyway, you can't play three-and-in with two people.

Barry: So we'll play heads and volleys.

Eric: With a fucking tennis ball?

Barry: What?

Eric: There's only one cunt around here who can flick a tennis ball up with his foot, and that cunt just fucked off and left us alone.

Barry: Jesus Christ. He had to go in. And he doesn't owe us anything. He can do what he wants. Let's just fucking play.

Eric: Fuck you.

Barry: What?

Eric: Fuck you.

Barry: Jesus. Whatever.

Eric: Fuck you.

Barry: Don't you think you're over-reacting a little?

Eric: Fuck you, I said.

Barry: Fine. I'm going in.

Eric: No, you're fucking not.

Barry: Yes, I am. You're being a cunt.

Eric: Am I now?

Barry: Yes.

Eric: Maybe I am. But you're not going in.

Barry: Yes, I fucking am.

Eric: (produces hunting knife, approaches Barry, plunges knife into Barry's abdomen) No (stab) You're. (stab) Fucking. (stab) Not. (stab)

Barry lies bleeding. Eric picks up the tennis ball. Bounces it interestingly, thoughtfully.

31 Johns and Janes for the comment whore:

problemchildbride said...

I may be woofing up the wrong vegetation entirely here but Johnny's still smoking in Dublin cul de sacs, right?

Ellie said...

hmmm

Lottie said...

**tip toes out lest she been seen and set upon**

gimme a minute said...

problemchildbride:
Thanks for your comment!

I have no idea what you're talking about, of course.

ellie:
Thanks for your comment!

Hmmm, yourself.

lottie:
Thanks for your comment!

I'm lovely, really. Ask anyone.

Deborah said...

Brilliant.

Radge said...

I AM that tennis ball.

Diarmuid said...

Before you say thanks for my comment let me say thanks for this post!

It's truly excellent and has opened my eyes to a whole new way of thinking which I didn't think was possible before. It's amazing to me how much we can learn from blogging. In fact, just the other day I realised I'd been stabbed in the face by a down and out that I was researching a blog post about so I sat down at my computer and I realised that many other Irish bloggers had also been stabbed in the face by vagrants.

Thanks to them I was able to to perform complicated surgery on myself and despite being a bit shaken up I'm better than ever ;-)

I love blogging more than my left arm.

tina said...

Brilliant :)
I like your blog.

red said...

thanks for taking everyone back to earth.

Ben said...

This made me laugh. Don't thank me for my comment.

Very very good :)

Darragh said...

Late to the game but well done sir. You're a fantastic and creative writer. *cap doffed*

W. Somerset Maugham said...

Not since Proust's 'In search of lost time' have I been so stimulated by a literary work, the skilfull use of wordplay tingles the very senses, in fact, I think I shall have go and 'crack one off'..

stipes said...

He was a bit of a cunt for taking the ball, even though it was his

Darran said...

Barry must have deserved it!

Medbh said...

Nice vignette, Gimme.
I watch the same thing play out in the park every night, only minus the blatant bloodletting.

gimme a minute said...

Deborah:
Thanks for your comment!

That's it.

Radge:
Thanks for...fuck it.

You got bounced?

Diarmuid:
Thanks for your comment!

You're welcome for the post!

I'm glad you found something to relate to in it!

I agree with everything you say!

You should link to your blog, then I can link to it, and you can link to me, and we can meet up and give each other real live status updates! :-) :-) :-)

Tina:
Welcome Tina and thanks.

That one is irony free.

Red:
Earth sucks, I need the company.

Ben:
It's my bleugh, I'll fucking thank you if I like.

Glad you laughed.

Darragh:
Christ, is there anything anybody can do to generate a negative response from you? Doesn't it get really fucking wearing being nice all the time?

W:
Shove it up your razor's edge..

Stipes:
That's your opinion.

Thanks for your comment!

Darran:
Welcome.

For sure he did.

Medbh:
There's a blogosphere in your local park?

fatmammycat said...

Guffaws with laughter. You will agree with me right?

stipes said...

Your welcome, I'm sure

Radge said...

Twice.

Damien Mulley said...

Great post, better comments.

gimme a minute said...

Fatmammycat:
I will and I do, oh great guffawer.

Stipes:
Thanks for your comment!

Radge:
I hope they were both interesting and thoughtful, both.

Damien:
I only write for the opportunity to be rude to people on a one to one basis.

Sir.

Caro said...

Excellent.

Green Ink said...

Heh. As Johnny used to say.

Conan Drumm said...

Yeah, I see it.

Johnny's soccer mom Ma looks just like Sarah Palin after a few flagons. Eric is the young Joe Pesci and Barry's on his first gig out of Billie Barry's outfit.

gimme a minute said...

Caro:
Cheers, Ma'am.

Green Ink:
We hardly knew him, huh?

Conan:
Call that bitch Lisa Richards.

Let's get this motherfucker cast.

Conan Drumm said...

Too many cooks, eh?

"We crane in on Johnny, and flash freeze forward in cuts as he weaves past Eric and Barry before

running normal speed as Johnny blasts a shot into the 'goal'."

gimme a minute said...

Conan:
Giz a job.

K8 the Gr8 said...

Ah jayses you have me in stitches with your commenting even more so than the post! Nailed :)

gimme a minute said...

K8:
Thanks you.

I want a phone for best comment. And I wouldn't be giving it back either.

badgerdaddy said...

I know I'm a bit late but... Well, I think I came a bit when I read that.

gimme a minute said...

Badgerdaddy:
You say the sweetest things.

 
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