Fried Bacon [Part Four] (8.15.12)

#15: FRIED BACON

(PART FOUR)

Written

by:

Sean Pollock

  

SCENE FIVE

(Lights up on Nora on the couch, the morning after the festival. Enter Ricky after a few beats, in only his underwear, very hungover)

NORA: Good morning.

RICKY: (groggy) Hi.

NORA: How are you feeling?

RICKY: Like death.

(Silence)

RICKY: Oh god…I need some water or I’m gonna puke.

(He goes offstage. He runs back on stage, chugging a pitcher of water. He spills water all over himself. Ricky and Nora laugh. He sits on the couch. A silence)

NORA: Can you keep a secret?

RICKY: Sure.

NORA: I’ve never been drunk before last night.

RICKY: (after a beat) Wow. (beat) Can you keep a secret?

NORA: Sure.

RICKY: We’re probably going to leave soon and I’m probably gonna have to quit working at Dairy King in the next week.

NORA: Where are we going?

RICKY: I don’t know…but I can just tell it’s time to go again. Florence has already set it, and now that we have you…she feels the need to move on.

NORA: (beat) Do you want to?

RICKY: Do I want to what?

NORA: Move on.

RICKY: Kinda. After a while killing policemen and eating their remains is tiring. But…I love it, I guess. (beat) To be honest, I’m really doing it because of Florence. I love that woman. (beat) But I also love Anthony, Lex and Johnny too.

(A silence)

NORA: Are you guys…all…together? Like in…one weird…group relationship?

RICKY: I guess you could say that. It’s complicated. We’ve all made love, we all make love to each other, but overall everyone has fucked everyone at this point and none of us really believe in monogamy, so it’s sort of a free-for-all. (beat) The idea of a monogamous relationship would be breaking Florence’s rule, that nothing is too permanent. Which is true, I guess. She says not to limit yourself to one lover. You learn something from each one you have. And if you get attached to one for too long, you’ll get bored, or worse, grow to hate them.

(A silence)

RICKY: And I agree with her. I’ve learned many different things from all of them.

(A silence)

NORA: Are Johnny, Lex and Anthony your lovers too?

RICKY: Yeah.

(A silence)

NORA: Why did you decide to talk to me?

RICKY: I wanted to.

NORA: Why didn’t you before?

RICKY: I was afraid.

NORA: Why?

RICKY: We’re not supposed to make close relationships with other people. I have to make this job because we need to pay for getting new clothes, drugs and booze, and while a lot of it is paid in money we make from our bacon—it’s not always enough, and sometimes its hard to dedicate myself to these people because some day I might grow to hate them and leave them.

NORA: Because nothing is too permanent, right?

RICKY: Yeah.

(Enter Florence)

RICKY: Hi.

FLORENCE: Shh. Give me that water.

(He does)

FLORENCE: I feel sick.

RICKY: Chopped up cops and excessive alcohol consumption aren’t always the best mixture.

FLORENCE: Oh hush, we’re on a crusade.

(She drinks)

FLORENCE: We got to drive that guy’s car away to some field and set it on fire so no one will find it. They’re probably already lookin for him. (beat) Does anyone know if we got the paper yet?

RICKY: To hell if I know.

(Florence exits outside, and then re-enters with a paper)

FLORENCE: And we did.

RICKY: Anything about us?

(She reads. She turns a few pages and then—)

FLORENCE: Yep. Page 3. Mysterious Cop Death Total Rises. Oh this is great.

RICKY: What does it say?

FLORENCE: Nothing. Never mind. Riccardo, you and I have more important business to attend to.

RICKY: What would that be, my darling?

FLORENCE: Well…I was thinking…you know how next week is National Cop Week?

RICKY: No.

FLORENCE: Well…it is. Now, I was thinking this could work in our favor. We go to the police station and offer to host a policeman breakfast at our house for this Monday. We dress up fancy, we make invitations, they come over, we poison their food, they die. We escape in the morning giving us just enough time to hit the road.

RICKY: It sounds risky.

FLORENCE: Well of course its risky. This whole operation is risky.

RICKY: I don’t know, Flo—

(Florence slaps him)

FLORENCE: NEVER CALL ME FLO, YOU STUPID CUNT FUCKER.

RICKY: Stop yelling! I’m so hungover!

FLORENCE: I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE HUNGOVER YOU COCK SUCKING CHEAP PROSTITUTE SACK OF GARBAGE, YOU’RE DOING AS I SAY.

(She kicks him)

FLORENCE: (to Nora) Sorry to raise my voice. I just do it when I want things to go my way. (beat) Now, c’mon Ricky.

(Ricky and Florence exit into Florence’s bedroom. Lights fade)

SCENE SIX

(Nora addresses the audience)

NORA: That morning, even though my head hurt so bad and I felt so weak and hungover for the first time in my life, I finally got Ricky to talk to me and open up. It was beautiful. (beat) To be honest, I never did quite understand why he said he loved Florence if she treated him so terribly. But I guess through this whole experience I’ve assessed there are two different groups of people. Group A: are people who are constantly treated like shit and Group B: people who treat other people like shit, but don’t take shit from other people. Ricky and I fell into Group A, Florence into Group B. But within Group A—the group Ricky and I were in (the people who are constantly treated like shit)—there are two other kinds of people. People who are treated like shit and secretly enjoy it because they’re submissive and People who are treated like shit and hate it but are too scared to raise their voice and say “Hey, I’m tired of being treated like shit”. The people who are treated like shit and hate it but are too scared will someday grow over their fear of speaking out against the crowd and with hope, turn into Group B—people that treat other people like shit and don’t take shit from other people (the group Florence is in). And everyone wants to badly to be strong and domineering and fit into Group B, but so many of us just take shit from other people. Even cops, deep down. They take shit from the government, don’t they? And maybe they just…don’t back down because they’re too scared. So although cops would appear to be in Group B, the people that treat other people like shit and don’t take shit from other people, are actually in Group A. Who knows.

(Lights rise on Ricky and Florence in a police station wearing ridiculous 1960’s vintage outfits. Florence looks like a 60’s housewife: an apron and a cute blue dress, along with period sunglasses and a Jackie O shawl wrapped around her head. Ricky looks like a slick businessman: plaid lounge suit, large glasses, fake afro and a porno mustache. Lights slowly rise on them, walking into the station. At the front desk, sits a SECRETARY)

SECRETARY: Hello, how can I help you guys today?

FLORENCE (in a southern accent): Hi, yes, my name is Florence Cumberdale. Nice to meet yew.

(They shake hands)

FLORENCE: W(h)hy I do declare, it is mighty toasty in this here office! But it is quite lovely. Yew see, ah have a lot of memories in po-lees stations. My daddy was a po-leece man, yew know.

SECRETARY: Was he now?

FLORENCE: Oh yes. He was a great po-lessman. The best. He rescued babies from burnin’ buildins…saved our lil ol southern town drug dealers dealin that de-vil’s cabbage, murderers…all sorts of terrible awful people!

SECRETARY: How very admirable.

FLORENCE: Because those people are sick. Sick and awful people, I swear to lawd jesus up in heaven that those people will find eternal sufferin and pain in Hell! Praise Jesus! Praise America! God Bless the USA!

(Ricky gives her the nudge)

FLORENCE: Uh…but, at any rate. I’ve print out some invitations for the policemen here so that they can join me and my husband on our annual policeman breakfas’ Monday night. They’ll be…scrambled eggs…donuts—cops love donuts, and lots of fried bacon!

RICKY: Lots of fried bacon.

FLORENCE: We love havin companee, and would love to have nun other than our very own policemen take a night awf of fightin’ crime and kickin back, relaxin and chowin down on some good ‘ol home made food! Here, take some invitations.

(She gives the Secretary some invitations from her purse)

SECRETARY: Ok m’am, before I accept any invitations I need to see some identification before I send these out to the police officers.

(A silence)

RICKY: Uh…we don’t have any of that…fancy ID nonsense or nothin. I dun left it in the car. We ain’t no illegal mexi-cans though. I can promise yew.

SECRETARY: Alright, that’s fine. I trust you both. I mean, like you guys are some weird serial killers or something. You guys are the kindest people to stop in all day. Thanks for stopping in, and may you have a blessed day! Have some hard candy!

(They take some from her desk)

FLORENCE: Oh, you too! Thank yew!

SECRETARY: My pleasure.

(They exit. Ricky bursts out laughing)

RICKY: What the fuck was that accent?

FLORENCE: I have no idea, it just slipped out!

RICKY: (imitating her) W(w)hy I do declare! My daddy was a polees-man!

FLORENCE: I don’t know where it came from!

(They laugh. A moment. Florence and Ricky kiss. Lights fade…)