Notes from New Sodom

... rantings, ravings and ramblings of strange fiction writer, THE.... Sodomite Hal Duncan!!

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Nowhere Town: Act ONE Scene I

Act ONE, Scene I: A Gig

Curtain opens on a rock gig. JACK and JOEY are on a platform filling the back right quarter of the stage, along with the rest of the band, facing stage-left. JACK, with flame-orange spiky hair, and wearing an antique military-style jacket and black leather jeans, is archetypal old school punk – a queer Johnny Rotten. JOEY, with biker jacket, jeans and long, dark hair looks like one of the Ramones.

Behind them – ie. stage-right - is a counter which remains throughout the play – serving as bar, shop counter, etc.. Backdrop to the platform is a road sign, one of the band’s props, which says “NOWHERE” in large letters and, underneath, “population: zeroes”. Stage-left, bouncers stand in a line to hold back the offstage “crowd”. As the band plays, every so often the bouncers reach offstage to pull out a crowdsurfer, who is then hustled up to the front to exit stage left. Some of them try to climb up onto the platform – with JACK egging them on - but are dragged away by the bouncers. Throughout all this, JACK is bouncing around the stage like a wild man, snarling and angry, dodging plastic pint tumblers, taunting the crowd.

SONG: Nothing In My Sight

A balls-to-the-wall hardcore punk rock anthem with a riff in the verse somewhere between Paranoid and Ace Of Spade, the chorus a kind of sing-along anthem, though, almost celebrating its own nihilism.

JACK:

No gods. No masters.
No global robber barons.
There’s nothing wrong? There’s nothing right!
There’s nothing’s left; there’s nothing in my sight.

Nothing in my sight

No red. No green.
No black. New scene.
See the world in a cold white light.
Nothing’s left; there’s nothing in my sight.

Nothing!

Cause there’s nothing to fight for.
Nothing to die for
Nothing to live for.
Nothing to declare.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing in my sight.

Jubilee celebrations [JACK shakes his head in disgust; he can't be bothered singing the same old same old]

Yah-de-yah-de- Masturbation!

JACK goes to walk offstage, as the rest of the band try to keep the song together, JOEY going into a guitar solo. GUY (in cricket whites and old school tie, with a pencil moustache – Malcolm Maclaren meets John Waters), comes on from stage right. He whispers in JACK’s ear. JACK shakes his head. GUY has his hands palm-upwards, placatory. The audience can’t hear what he is saying but he points towards the offstage crowd – they’ve paid good money for this. JACK shrugs dismissively. GUY cajoles him.

JACK [shouting over the music]: Who gives a fuck about the fucking jubilee?! [offstage, the audience – i.e. the REGULARS - cheer]

GUY just gives him a patient look and JACK, point made, goes back to the front of the stage with a resigned look on his face, throws himself back into the song.

Jubilee celebrations
For a fucking coronation.
Loyal subjects. Divine Right! [JACK makes a Nazi salute]
Nothing’s left; there’s nothing in my sight.

Nothing in my sight

Anarchist! Nihilist! [pointing at the crowd, accusing them, with total hostility]
Fuck that. Get pissed.
Did you forget that nothing is true?
One law: do what you wanna do.

Nothing!

One of the REGULARS breaks through the security barrier, tries to get up on stage, but is dragged off by a bouncer.

Cause there’s nothing to fight for.
Nothing to die for
Nothing to live for.
Nothing to declare.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing in my sight.

No victim. No hero.
I’m just another zero.
Looking for a cause to fight.
Can’t see for the nothing in my sight.

Nothing in my sight

No hope. No fear.
My way has come clear.
I got nothing to lose tonight.
Ground zero’s here, my time is right.

[JACK bellows - a wordless, animal roar]

Cause there’s nothing to fight for.
Nothing to die for
Nothing to live for.
Nothing to declare.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing.

JACK stalks the stage, as the music gets wilder.

Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!
Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!

JACK punches the air, points at the offstage crowd with belligerent accusation as he screams this line over and over again.

Nothing in my sight!

Immediately the song ends, Joey unplugs his electric guitar and walks off stage-right. JACK dances and struts around, taunting the crowd, amid sounds of shouting and smashing glass.

JACK: Come on, ya motherfuckers! Whores and motherfuckers! Fuck you! [dodging another tumbler] Ah, you throw like a fucking girl!

CHORUS [Entering stage-right]: What do you need to make a punk? Spit and venom? Blood and spunk?

JACK: Come on. Gimme everything you got.

CHORUS: A sprinkling of Stardust, a pinch of Pop. A little bit of Rotten, Vicious fop.

JACK: Bottles, grenades, whatever you’ve got…

CHORUS: Our boy, Jack Flash, here’s got the lot. The snarl, the strut, the sneer, the snot.

JACK: You nearly got me, but you missed again

CHORUS: Antichrist Superstar, Leopard Messiah. Top of the world, ma, couldn’t get much higher

JACK flicks a two finger salute at the unseen crowd.

CHORUS: His band, Fagsmoke, has stormed the charts. World tours, strange incidents in foreign parts -- they've got it all. They've got it made. He only needs to click his fingers to get laid. The only question then is why -- if this is true, why then, exactly -- does our Cracked Jack want to die?

JACK staggers offstage. Exit CHORUS.

***

Labels: ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home