PIECE OF CAKE

02Iul09

12-round play – for pros

Characters:

GEORGE LASER – sales executive, around 25, alias “JOEL” – youthful, shy and flat voice;

ALIDRUC KERIM – coach/manager, aged 40, alias “GURU” – steady though unctuous voice;

BILL MUFFET – magnat/businessman, aged 30 plus, alias“NERO” – deep, thunderous voice;

ANNOUNCER – sports commentator – girl, high-pitched, brisk voice.

Preamble

The action takes place in a boxing ring.

ANNOUNCER: Laaadies and geeents! Welcome to the National Kick-Selling Preliminaries. The hall is full to overflowing on the night of the great show. In a few moments the candidates for the title shall make their way towards the ring. You are about to witness an unprecedented show of force and strategy. Prepare yourselves for blood and tears.

The audience starts to roar.

ANNOUNCER: This evening you will see a … miiilion dollar bout. For the first time in the ring, George Laser, alias Joel! Though youth and enthusiastic, he looks quite dishevelled. Are we going to witness the start of a new champion? Or shall we be witnesses to yet another live execution?

The audience responds with timid applause.
ANNOUNCER: Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, as Laser is coached by the well-known and magnificent former champion: master Alidruuuc Kerim! A true Guru of the ring, weary yet greenful, an exceptional professional who has not known defeat throughout his entire career.

The audience chants: “LEA-DER, LEA-DER!”

ANNOUNCER: Laaadies and geeents! So far undefeated, possessed of an admirable excellence of manipulation, a fragrant miracle of persuasion: in the lively enthusiasm of the gallery (THE AUDIENCE: “KI-LLER! KI-LLER!”) the extraordinary champion Biiil Muuuffeeet enters the ring! Also known as Neeerooo, he has five mentally retarded, two socially maladapted, four retards and three schizophrenics to his credit. What a great man!

Audience: KILL HER, KILL HER!

GURU: Are you ready?

NERO: He looks ready…

JOEL: Father, our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

GURU: It’s only a game…

JOEL: Thy Kingdom come.

NERO: Where is your mum?

JOEL: Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread.

GURU: Watch out your head…

JOEL: And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

GURU: (SHOWING) Play your feet thus…

JOEL: And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

NERO: I am the winner primeval.

JOEL: Amen.

ANNOUNCER: Two brave, decided men.

JOEL: Angel of God, my guardian dear…

NERO: I smell some fear…

JOEL: To whom God’s love commits me here…

GURU: Start your career…

JOEL: Ever this day, be at my side…

ANNOUNCER: Jekyll and Hyde…

JOEL: To light and guard, rule and guide.

NERO: You will be fried…

JOEL: Amen.

NERO: Again.

GURU: Three, two, one, leave your corner!

NERO: He’d have better brought a mourner.

GONG!
JOEL: You are done.

ANNOUNCER: The show has begun.

Round I

Deathly silence. Joel dials a number on his mobile phone – beeps can be heard.

ANNOUNCER: Seems like Joel is not familiar with the gloves.

GURU: Don’t forget: never lower your guard…

JOEL: (TIMIDLY, FAR OFF) Hello!

ANNOUNCER: A light, badly aimed punch.

NERO: YES!

GURU: Protect yourself always…

ANNOUNCER: Muffet counter with a punch in the mouth. Joel reels.

GURU: Move nearer!

JOEL: (STILL TIMIDLY) Hello, I am George Laser from Media News.

ANNOUNCER: Laser punches like a lady.

GURU: Cover up!

NERO: (LANDING A HARD PUNCH) And what do you want from me?

ANNOUNCER: Muffet catches him with his guard up and plunges his fist in his stomach.

GURU: Come on, hit him!

JOEL: (SLOWLY) I am calling in the hope you might accept me to present you, if I may…

ANNOUNCER: Laser corners the champion, though quite unconvincingly.

GURU: Come on, lad, livelier!

NERO: Be brief, money is time.

ANNOUNCER: Muffet comes back in the centre and retorts vulgarly.

GURU: Come on, lad, this is not a game of chess.

Audience: “LA-SER, LA-SER!”

JOEL: I wanted to present you our offer concerning your listing in…

ANNOUNCER: Laser seems to recollect himself, but kicks hesitantly…

NERO: My listing?

ANNOUNCER: …missing his target.

JOEL: (KICKS LIGHTLY) Well, of your company…

GURU: Move on, take him from the right.

NERO: Listing in what…?

ANNOUNCER: But the champion doesn’t miss and lands a hard blow between his ribs. Joel reels.

JOEL: In the catalogue…

NERO: (KICKS) I’m busy right now.

ANNOUNCER: Laser withstands the blow…
GURU: Kick him, lad, for heaven’s sake!
Audience (gradually turns into): “LOO-SER, LOO-SER!”

JOEL: (DIZZY) I beg your pardon.

ANNOUNCER: Joel is in a sad plight…

NERO: Okay, are you done?

GURU: Cosh him!

JOEL: May I call you back later?

GURU: Is he stupid or what…?

NERO: (WITH A WELL-AIMED BLOW, HANGS UP) You may.

ANNOUNCER: An uppercut that shuttered his brains.

GURU: Don’t let him get away.

JOEL: (DIZZY) Good day.

GONG!

Break 1

NERO: To hell with your offers!

ANNOUNCER: Let’s hope though we shall not waste our time tonight.

GURU: What was that?

NERO: (ORDERS) A fresh orange juice.

JOEL: He gave me a tough time.

GURU: I wasn’t referring to him, but to you.

JOEL: I really caught it in the neck.

GURU: Well, what did you expect him to do? Caress you? Ask you to attack him?

JOEL: He kicked me as if I were a cow.

GURU: He couldn’t possibly mistake you.

ANNOUNCER: A first warm-up round for the champion from which Laser got out quite banged.

JOEL: What was I supposed to do?

GURU: Strike him at least one good blow.

JOEL: But you said footwork is the key.

GURU: Lad, you have a problem with your head, not feet. You let him dominate you continually.

JOEL: He was busy.

GURU: And you thought he was expecting you, didn’t you? He had nothing better to do and was desperate you didn’t call. You bloody idiot!

ANNOUNCER: Guru seems to be encouraging him…

GURU:  And what was that crap (IMITATING) “May I call you back later”? Even if he was busy, you shouldn’t have left empty-handed.

JOEL: I tried, but he rushed me.

GURU : You should’ve broken his nose (SOBER): “When may I call you back: this afternoon or tomorrow morning?” Clear?

NERO: (STRETCHING AND ORDERING) I’m thirsty. Beer!

GURU: Even better: “one or two o’clock”?

JOEL: In the morning?

GURU: Nay, in autumn. Give him the chance of choosing, let him feel good.

Nero dozes off and starts snoring.

ANNOUNCER: Muffet is full of energy.

GURU: He’ll have the impression that it’s him who decides.

JOEL: I haven’t thought of that.

GURU: You’re not here to think, but to fight! Get it?

JOEL: Yea, boss.

GURU: (IRONICALLY) Well done! “May I call you back later?” What could he say? Yes or NOOO. And NO means Knock Out.

JOEL: (PENITENTLY) I’m sorry.

GURU: Don’t let him lead the talk. Be polite, but firm.

JOEL: I see!

GURU: Fortunately he didn’t say no.

ANNOUNCER: Nobody expected Laser to resist the first round.

GONG!

GURU : Now you go there and work! Think like a champ, (OFF) you moron.

ANNOUNCER: Seeecond round.

Round II

In his corner, Joel is throwing his fists absent-mindedly, more and more jerkily, left and right, while Nero keep snoring.

ANNOUNCER: The champion looks quite concentrated.
JOEL: (DIALING) Come on, pick up!

Phone ringing.
JOEL: (ON THE SECOND RING): Pick uuuup…

ANNOUNCER: Laser insists.

On the third ring Joel hangs up.

GURU: What are you doing, lad?

JOEL: (EXCUSING) I may be disturbing him.

GURU: See that I don’t disturb your façade. Call him till he picks up.

Joel hits redial.
NERO: Who the hell…?

JOEL: Please, pick up.

NERO: That shit again?

GURU: Don’t you hang up or I’ll kill you.

NERO: (AFTER THREE RINGS REJECTS THE CALL) Balls to your beeps!

JOEL: (PUTTING THE PHONE DOWN) He hang up.

GURU: Of course he did, you should have given him a moment.

JOEL: But, you said…

GURU: He might be in a meeting.

NERO: (ORDERS) Coffee, quick.

GURU: Now what! Are you expecting him to call you back?

JOEL: Well, maybe he hasn’t done.

GURU: What’s up, lad, tired already?

JOEL: (REDIALLING) No, boss.

ANNOUNCER: Joel does not give up.

NERO: (FUMBLING WITH THE PHONE) I’ll put it on vibrate, motherfuckers…
GURU: That’s it, don’t give up!

NERO: …maybe Godfather will call, though.

GURU: Keep trying till you strike home.

JOEL: (LETTING THE PHONE RING) Helloo!

NERO: (PHONE VIBRATES) He’s playing with fire.
JOEL (DESPERATE, KEEPS THROWING BLOWS IN THE AIR, STUMBLES AND FALLS) HELLOOO! HEEELL!

ANNOUNCER: Laser is full of force.
After five rings: (V.O.) “Beep. Please leave your message after the beep. When finished, hang up. Beep.”
JOEL: (HANGS UP AND PICKS HIMSELF UP) Nooo. Not again!

GURU: Don’t throw in the towel, you have nothing to lose.

JOEL: My brains, boss.

GURU: Exactly, nothing to lose.
NERO: What if I took the battery out? Now be my guest to call as long as you want, moron.

ANNOUNCER: Is this the end of it?
GURU: Come on, one last try.

JOEL: (DIALLING) I could leave him a message.

GURU : ‘tis now or never.

ANNOUNCER: Joel is on his knees.

JOEL: I beg you, pick uuuup…
Voice-off speaking: “…the subscriber you have called is not receiving calls at this time. Please call back later.”
GONG!.

JOEL: (FALLS TO THE GROUND) Miserable!

Break 2

ANNOUNCER: So far Laser has been nothing but a sparring-partner.

JOEL: “Beep” yourself.

NERO: (GRINNING, TO THE BARMAN) Whisky…

GURU: (HELPING HIM TO THE CHAIR) Up-a-daisy!

NERO: …and a Havana!

JOEL: “Beep” him and his mouth!

GURU: All right, that’s enough!

ANNOUNCER: Let us hope though that Laser shall start the bout.
JOEL: What the “beep”?

GURU: Listen, lad, you keep your “BEEP” in your trousers, not in your mouth. Understood? Let jerkoffs and faggots talk dirty.

JOEL: …stinking fascist and rotten bastard…
GURU: Hey, you may not curse him till you have the signed agreement in your hands.

NERO: (DRINKING HIS GLASS IN ONE SWALLOW) Damn you all to hell, you “beep” stupid salesmen…

GURU: Signed and sealed.

JOEL: Didn’t you see, boss, what that bloody motherfucker did to me?

NERO: Aborted beggars.

GURU: And what did you expect, lad? See him begging you to accept a few million out of his pocket?

NERO: Stinking bores.

JOEL: He could have said something: that he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t… Something, anything, bloody terrorist…

GURU: That you won’t see. They’re all the same: the more they need you, the more they torture you.

NERO: (ECSTATICALLY DRAWING ON HIS CIGAR) Oh yeah!

JOEL: But this is inhuman.

GURU: And if they don’t need you, they simply enjoy torturing you.

JOEL: But why?

GURU: Because this is their way of justifying their incompetence.

JOEL: Yet they run empires…

GURU: Built through tyranny and cheating.

JOEL: They are influential people…

GURU: Who are now getting their revenge for their unhappy childhood.

JOEL: They are powerful people…

GURU: Who tremble at the thought that their ignorance might be discovered.

JOEL: Why don’t they simply turn down our offer, then? Why do they give us false hope?

GURU: ‘Cause they are chicken and hard-hearted.

ANNOUNCER: Will miss Laser withstand one more round?

GURU: And how do you think he made all those millions, lad? By being honest, sincere and open-minded?

JOEL: How else?

GURU: You have to be bloody-minded, a real dog, get it?

Joel gives the chair a kick and whines in pain.

GURU: That’s more like it. Let me see… You look great. This is still better than selling insurance policies, isn’t it?

JOEL nods his assent.

GURU: Remember he’s off-guard after each blow. That’s when you use your left. Quick. And double. Tol-lol! Bang. But in the meantime you’ll still have to parry some of those rights.

JOEL: Did you see any pass my head?

GURU: None. They stopped right in it.

JOEL: Listen, boss, at least give me your phone so that he does not recognize my number!

GURU: Sure… and the hand of my daughter as a bonus? Be serious, think this is a fairy tale?

GONG!

ANNOUNCER: Will the small and innocent David manage to defeat the brave and mean Goliath?

Round III

JOEL: (DIALLING THE NUMBER) Hello. I’m calling back.

ANNOUNCER: Joel lounges across the ring and delivers a heavy blow to Muffet.

NERO: What for?

ANNOUNCER: …but the shock makes him lose his balance for a moment.

JOEL: I am Joel Laser…
NERO: (OFF) Quite bold, this guy.

GURU: Work his body…

JOEL: …from…

NERO: I know who you are. What do you want from me?

JOEL: (STARTING HIS MASSAGE) You know… the offer I’ve talked to you about.

ANNOUNCER: …recollects himself and attacks desperately.

NERO: What offer, lad?

ANNOUNCER: Actually I’ve got the impression Joel is giving him something like a massage.

JOEL: About the listing in the catalogue…

NERO: What catalogue? Don’t you ever tire?

ANNOUNCER: Muffet is withdrawing.

GURU: Do him a plastic surgery.

ANNOUNCER: Pardon! Muffet counter-attacks.

JOEL: …of most important persons in business envelope industry.

GURU: Give him a good going-over.

NERO: (STARTING TO PAY ATTENTION) And how do you know about my envelopes, pray?

JOEL: I found you in Brown Pages.

ANNOUNCER: Now he’s giving him a gentle pinch.

NERO: Oh, those scoundrels. They listed me free, just to receive an envelope.

ANNOUNCER: He seems to be doing a Heimlich manoeuver.

Nero’s back is heard cracking and he moans in pleasure.

JOEL: I thought you were number one in the business.

GURU : That’s it, humiliate him.

ANNOUNCER: The champion is like putty in Joel’s hands.

NERO: That is correct.

ANNOUNCER: Joel bends his hand behind him.

JOEL: And prewashed envelopes.

ANNOUNCER: …and now a right which makes Muffet turn around.

NERO: Looks like you did your homework, didn’t you?

GURU: Reshape him.

JOEL: Plus real estate envelopes.

ANNOUNCER: And that’s a good left.

JOEL: (MASSAGING RIBS) And the anonymous ones.

ANNOUNCER: Muffet must have felt that.

NERO: Whow, whow! You’re tickling me.

GURU: Come on, the fatal blow.

JOEL: Correct me if I am wrong. You have a monopoly in cellulose industry, control stationery distribution and own two of the three papermaking factories..

ANNOUNCER: A real shower of well-aimed blows.

NERO: All right, that was enough, send me that offer…

ANNOUNCER: The two embrace, one worn-out by the blows taken, the other by those given.

JOEL: I could bring it personally.

NERO: …by fax…

JOEL: As you wish…

NERO: …next week. And we shall see (HANGS UP).

JOEL: Helloo? He hung up.

GONG!

Break 3

ANNOUNCER: What a comeback!

GURU: Finally!

JOEL: I did away with it! Boss, I was so scared…

GURU: Listen, lad, courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it!
JOEL: I managed to send the offer and got out in one piece.

GURU: (STUDIYNG HIM): Only a detached retina and a loose tooth. Not bad, really!

JOEL: Thanks to  Heaven, it’s over! I resisted all three rounds.

ANNOUNCER: Joel clearly has potential.

GURU: Right! Only nine more rounds left.

JOEL: Whaaaat?

GURU: Maybe less, if you concentrate.
JOEL: How’s that, boss?

GURU: If you knock him out.

JOEL: Not that, I thought it was over.

GURU: You’ve just got through the baptism. The real thing begins now!

JOEL: But boss, I’m totally clapped-out.

ANNOUNCER: Joel is full of energy.

GURU: Look here laddie, this was just the warm-up. Do you want to turn professional?

NERO: (ORDERS) Brandy…

GURU : Or would you rather stay a lousy amateur?

NERO : And a glass of soda.

JOEL: Pro, boss! But not from the very first…

GURU: Know what? I say you make up your mind!

NERO: (DRINKS AND COMES TO) Pshaw! Now I’ll teach him a lesson.

JOEL: But I’m scared, boss! That bloke will either beat my brains out or leave me whacky for good!

GURU: There’s no other way. Swallow it and shut up!

ANNOUNCER: Joel is determined to win…

JOEL: Can’t take it anymore!

GURU: Shut up and dig!

JOEL:  Please, boss, I’ve had enough…

NERO: (ORDERS) One more… with gin.

GURU: And what do you think, lad? That I want to wash dishes because of you?

JOEL: I thought…

GURU: You thought what? Do you think that is someone interested of what are you thinking? I don’t give a “beep” what you thought? There’s only one thing that matters: what you do, not what you think!

JOEL: He’ll hack my shins, can’t take it anymore. I’m worn-out.

GURU: No shit! And tomorrow, next month, what will you eat, lad? Frustration with a garnish of anguish, right?

ANNOUNCER: Guru can barely stop him from pouncing before the ring bell sounds.

JOEL: He’s already pulled out two of my teeth. I’m afraid that if I lost my teeth I won’t be able to eat at all.

GURU: Never fear, you’ll eat smashed potatoes. And spinach as well, to build up your strength. Needs no chewing, just swallowing.

ANNOUNCER: Anyway, he resisted two rounds more than we expected him to.

GURU: One more thing, laddie. Smille all the time.

JOEL: Even on the phone?

GURU: Especially on the phone. You’ll sound more convincing, trust me!

JOEL: Ok, I’ll do as you say. Hope it helps.

GURU: By the way, have you said your prayers? The real thing begins now.

JOEL: Oh God, give me the strength to call and get an appointment, to accept postponements and get over rejections, and the wisdom to discern these. Schmuck!

GONG !

GURU : Good luck!

Round IV

ANNOUNCER: The bout is relaunched.

JOEL: (SMILES DUMBLY) Hello, Mister Muffet.

NERO: (DRYLY) YES.

ANNOUNCER: Muffet’s right is his best asset.

JOEL: George Laser speaking.

ANNOUNCER: Let us hope we shall see a show.

NERO: (OFF) That calf again! Blow!

GURU: Be aware, stay tune.

JOEL: One minute, please.

NERO: (KICKS WHILE COUNTING) Be quick, my nerve hurts. Sixty, fif-nine…

ANNOUNCER: Rights follow one another.

GURU: Dodge the uppercut and keep away from him.

JOEL: I hope you received my offer.

NERO: No. Fif-one, fifty…

ANNOUNCER: Another good right from Muffet.

JOEL: I sent it by fax last week.

NERO: The fax was out of paper. Fort-five, fort-four…

ANNOUNCER: Muffet is crushing him.
GURU: Counter-attack!

ANNOUNCER: JOEL is just a chunk of meat.

JOEL: And by post…

NERO: Changed address. Thir-three, thir-two…

ANNOUNCER: Joel makes an attempt to kick, but fails.

GURU: Wanna see a counter.

JOEL: And on your e-mail address.

NERO: Which one? Tweny-five, tweny-four…

ANNOUNCER: He seems to be playing with Laser. This is the word.

GURU: Insist.

JOEL: Both.

ANNOUNCER: Joel counter-attacks.

NERO: Oh, it was from you! Ni-teen, ei-teen…

ANNOUNCER: Nero is a monster.

GURU: Don’t let him kick you.

JOEL: Have you got around to looking it over?

NERO: Not yet. Fo-teen, thi-teen…

ANNOUNCER: Muffet caught his head.

GURU: Hey, are you going to kick him or strangle him?

JOEL: (IN A CHOKED VOICE) Shall I send it again?

NERO: Needless.

ANNOUNCER: Nero lands a fine uppercut which makes Joel kneel.

JOEL: (COWERING) Then I shall call back next week.

ANNOUNCER: Joel’s getting it real bad. Ten, nine…

NERO: I’ll be off…

ANNOUNCER: Nero gives him a kick in the stomach. Guru is scandalized.

GURU: This is a downright massacre.

ANNOUNCER: A real mean kick. Six, five…

JOEL: (CHOKING) Next month, maybe?

NERO: You may try.

ANNOUNCER: Joel caught a kick right in the mouth. Guru leaps inside the ring.

GURU: No, this is intoler…

ANNOUNCER: Three, two…

GONG!

Break 4

ANNOUNCER: Muffet shall be penalized for the end of this round.

JOEL: (SUFFERING) Boss, one question…

GURU: Bark it out!

ANNOUNCER: Joel resists like a rock.

JOEL: Is this going to go on for long?

GURU: Again with that? When you have the agreement in your hands you’ll have done with it.

JOEL: What if I cannot convince him?

GURU: There’s no such thing as “I CANNOT”!

JOEL: No?

GURU: Impossible it’s not possible! Non e posibile! CAPISCI?

JOEL: What if I cannot sell?

GURU: Look here laddie: nobody wants anybody to sell him something. But they’re all crazed about buying. Stand up, we’re tired. Let me take a break.

GURU sits on the chair.

JOEL: How can I make him buy?

GURU: Give him what he wants, not what you wanna sell. Tell him what he has to gain, he’ll surely be interested. Let’s see, give me a massage.

JOEL: All right, but how do I go about it?

GURU: I see you are pretty good at it. It’s like magic. A bit to the left.

JOEL : (STARTS KNEADING HIM) I was talking about selling, boss. Please, do teach me!

GURU: AIDA, lad, haven’t you heard of it?

JOEL: Of course I have! Verdi’s opera. But I haven’t seen it ‘cause I had tonsillitis.

GURU: They did you the wrong surgery: they removed your brain. And stitched a hymen instead…

JOEL: On my word of honour, boss! And then I caught scarlet fever.

GURU: Ecce homo! How have I wronged you, God? (STANDING) If I knew you were a virgin in sales… I’ve had enough! I’ll “beep” you (GIVES HIM A KICK UP THE BACKSIDE) till the brain in your pants is aroused.

JOEL: Ouch, my ass! What have I said, boss?

GURU: Shut up, you cesspool innocence! Hear me out: Aida, yes?

JOEL: Yeees…

GURU: Well, nothing?

JOEL: (INNOCENTLY) What?

GURU: AIDA, lad: A-Attraction, I-Interest, D-Desire and A…

JOEL: Aaa…

GURU: (ORDERING) Absinthe…

JOEL: Ahaaa…

GURU: (DRINKING) You blockhead! Aaa…ction. These are the steps you have to follow: attract him, (SIMULATING) show your silken breasts and rosy nipples. Then, to arouse his interest, lift your skirt and show him the paradise. Swiftly and subtly, as being chance. Make him want you: moisten your fingers till you have him on his knees (JOEL KNEELS DOWN) begging, completely aroused and turned on, and give it to him.

JOEL: (OFF, AROUSED) Cool, think I’ll ejaculate…

GURU: This is the hardest moment: don’t give in. Make him understand that his entire being shall be orgasmic if he surrenders. Open your legs slowly and at the same time stick the agreement under his nose; with his hand with desire he’ll sign automaticly.  He’ll come without even touching you…

JOEL: (OFF SATISFIED) Mee tooo…

GURU: And then he’ll be yours: he’ll surely be a good payer if you “beep” him as I taught you.

ANNOUNCER: Joel is changing his gloves with long lady ones.

JOEL: (PUTS ON LONG LADY GLOVES) I cure him of prostate, too.

GURU: He may be stupid, but he got from his father the company and all that money. He was quite thick-headed, but he had the hell of a luck…

JOEL: My father died in Labour…

GURU: (OFF) He’s wracked, poor fellow.

JOEL: …on Christmas day.

GURU: Forget that. Not only he’ll not know what he paid for, but he’ll be sure to have bought nothing but sheer pleasure. And that because he liked how you relieved him from pressure and cured him of impotence.

JOEL: Cool!

GURU: And in his head confounded with satisfaction he will dream how he soaked you and splashed you right between your ears. And when he wakes up, he’ll tell everybody how he deflowered and polluted you, having no idea that he’s doing you a good: all the other impotents shall flock to seduce and have you.

GONG!

JOEL: (SPRINGING TO HIS FEET) The gong, boss! Have to go.

GURU: (LOST) Go, but be aware: a smart is not a tart, even both rhyme with fart!

Round V

NERO is fawning, JOEL playing the tough.

JOEL: (PHONE RINGING) Hello?

GURU: That’s it, be tough!

ANNOUNCER: Joel has taken fresh heart.

NERO: (CALLING SOMEBODY) Hello! John Muffet speaking.

JOEL: One spare moment?

GURU: Good job, lad.

JOEL: (KICKING, NERO, ALLEGEDLY CATCHING IT) All right, but make it short.

GURU: No mercy.

ANNOUNCER: Joel is unleashed.

NERO: About the two completed residential complexes.

JOEL: Financial solutions with accumulation of capital?

NERO: We are willing to let you have one for a twenty per cent commission.

JOEL: Unit-linked? You mean insurance, right?

Action – reaction, conversely: effect-cause.

NERO: (TAKING IT) That’s out of question, less than sixteen per cent won’t do.

JOEL: (STRIKING THE AIR) Insure what?

ANNOUNCER: Chaos reigns in the ring.

NERO: (TAKING IT) That is totally untrue, nothing but quality materials have been used. Long durability.

JOEL: (KICKING) Death or disability?

GURU: What’s wrong with you, lad, are you sick?

ANNOUNCER: The audience is annoyed.

NERO: (TAKING IT) We undertake to remedy any and all faults within two months.

JOEL: (KICKING) Yeah, right! If I die I get one hundred thousand pounds?

GURU: Not bad. Finish him off!

NERO: (TAKING IT) No way, Jose! Eight per cent would mean trading at a loss.

JOEL: (KICKING) Come again? …and I’m supposed to pay for twenty years?

NERO: All right, fifteen per cent, but we keep the car park.

JOEL: And if I sign today I get a bonus?

GURU: That’s it, give him one free for me. In his guts!

NERO: Okay, thirteen per cent. Without utilities though.

ANNOUNCER: They shall be penalized for non-combat.

GURU: Cure him of cirrhosis!

JOEL: Enough with that. I’m not interested.

NERO: (TAKING IT) It’s impossible, why don’t you believe me?

JOEL: (KICKING) Just because!

NERO: (TAKING IT) I swear on my honour.

JOEL: (KICKING) Just drop it, will you!

GURU: What are you doing, lad?

ANNOUNCER: The audience wants to see blood.

NERO: (TAKING IT) Fine, eleven per cent if we sign tomorrow.

JOEL: (KICKING) Why don’t you call back in three years or so? (HANGS UP)

GURU: Are you kidding me?

NERO: All right, nine per cent, I’ll say goodbye. (HANGS UP)

JOEL: Dev’lish insistent fellow. I might consider training him.

GURU: He disgraced me.

NERO: Poor fool! I would have let it go even for five per cent, only to get rid of it.

Audience: BOOO, BOOO!

GONG!

Break 5

TO BE CONTINUED

Filed under: myspace crisis, teatru   |  Leave a Comment