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by Seung Cho

Cast of Characters

John . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Jane . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Joe . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Mr. Brownstone  . . . . . . . . . . . 45





(They each sit in front of slot machine.)

JANE:  Can't believe we got through using the fake ID.

JOHN:  I've always wanted to come to the casino.

JOE:  Yeah.  Finally a cool place to hang out where we won't be constantly bushwhacked.

JOHN:  Uh!  After a long ravishing day at school, we just want to be left alone.

JANE:  There is like no safe place for us to hang out.  We can't hang out in front of the grocery store, we can't hang out at the park, we can't hang out in the street.  The only place where we are safe from that him is behind the shitty dumpster.

JOHN:  Mr. Brownstone.

JOE:  That old fart just won't leave us alone.

JANE:  He has to make our lives miserable.

JOHN:  I'd like to kill him.

JANE:  I'll be damn if he doesn't die.  I wish that old fart would have a heart attack and drop dead like old people are supposed to.

JOHN:  Make room for the new generation, you old fart!

JOE:  All he does is follow us around and nag and threaten us.

JANE:  Doesn't he have anything better to do?

JOHN:  I don't think he does.  He's like a parasite.  He lives off of the misery he inflicts on us.

JOE:  If he's a leech we'll be able to yank it off and squash him beneath our boots.  But he is a full grown man.

JOHN:  A freakin' teacher.

JANE:  A teacher.  Oh god.

JOE: That man has no sense of decency.

JOHN:  Eight hours a day is enough.

JANE:  What more does he want from us, always stalking us around.  We're just kids.  Leave us alone damn it.

JOE:  Such a wicked old flapper.

JANE:  Giving me a D when I only forgot to turn in two homeworks.

JOE:  Coming over to my house and talking to my mom for laughing that I don't have phone service yet in my new house.

JOHN:  Giving me an after school detention and ass-rape me for making a harmless joke.

JOE:  Oh.  You mean that joke about his name?

JOHN:  I just said that his name sounds like kidney stone of the ass and that that's why he is always gruffy and angry.  His shit is so thick and so oddly shaped that he can't go and all his shit are piled up in his intestines all the way up to his chest.  He probably rips his sphincter to relieve a single gram of turd after two hours of pushing, sweating, teeth clenching, screaming in frustration, and holding breath for a half gram of green mold shit.

JOE:  That's why he can't sit still and leave us kids alone.  You were just expressing your opinion, John ... And he probably gets a lot of splash back too when he's pushing that hard.

JANE:  I agree totally.  It must feel like a woman giving birth or something ... He ass-raped you.  He's such a rapist.

JOE:  He ass-raped probably half of the kids in the class.

JOHN:  He ass-rapes us all.  Isn't that what high school teachers do?

JOE:  Such an old constipated wicked man.

JOHN:  I wanna kill him.

JANE:  I wanna watch him bleed like the way he made us kids bleed.

JOHN:  I wish I'd win the five million dollar jackpot.  (John moves over one to the five million dollar slot and starts playing.)  Is it me or do I smell evil around here?

JANE:  Not just evil but old too.

JOE:  Old is bad enough.  You mix evil with old, and rotting turd-hell on earth.

MR. BROWNSTONE:  (Lowering his voice.)  You fucking little kids.  Don't you publicly humiliate me!  You know what I can do to you at school on Monday?

JOHN:  I feel a satanic presence around me.  Do you guys feel it?

JOE:  Absolutely.

JANE:  Do you remember ... what's his name.  Mr. Brownstone.  Our current math teacher.

JOE:  Ha!  That old fart!  I hate that man!

JOHN:  Do you know what he reminds me of.

JOE:  What?

JANE:  Tell us, John!

JOHN:  The song by Guns N' Roses called Mr. Brownstone.  The song was about their heroin addiction.

JANE:  Oh, I love that song!

JOE:  That is my favorite song of all time.  It goes ... (sings.)

I get up around seven
Get outta bed around nine
And I don't worry about nothin' no
Cause worryin's a waste of my ... time.

JANE: (sings.)

The show usually starts around seven
We go on stage around nine
Get on the bus about eleven
Sippin' a drink and feelin' fine.

JOHN, JOE, JANE: (sing.)

We've been dancing with
Mr. Brownstone
He's been knockin'
He won't leave me alone.

JOHN: (sings.)

I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do
So the little got more and more
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better
Said a little better than before.

JANE: (Jane repeats what John just sang.)

JOHN, JOE, JANE: (sings louder.)

We've been dancing with
Mr. Brownstone
He's been knockin'
He won't leave me alone

JOHN: Here comes the best part. (Sings.)

Now I get up around whenever
I used ta get up on time
But that old man he's a real muthafucker
Gonna kick him on down the line.

(Stops singing.)

That's what Mr. Brownstone, our teacher, is -- a real muthafucker!

JANE: Just leave the fuck us alone, muthafucker!

JOE: This is far worse than any heroin addiction. We would rather be addicted to the most powerful heroin than be fucked by this old muthafucker!

JOHN: (sings louder.) That old man he's a REAL MUTHAFUCKER gonna kick him down the line!

MR. BROWNSTONE: (Menacing evil look appears on his face.)

JOHN: (Smiling, he turns, inserts quarters, and pulls the handle of the slot. The symbol lines up and he wins the jackpot. The bell rings, the siren goes off. His smile turns into a daze.) What? I won? I won?  (Jane and Joe beam at him.)

JANE:  You won!

JOE:  You won, my man!

JANE, JOE:  Mmmm, mmm.  Mmm, mmm.  (Joe and Jane throw their arms around John.  Jane kisses the right side of his face, Joe kisses the left side of his face.)

JOHN:  (Holds up the five million dollar ticket in the air.)  We're rich!  No more Mr. Brownstone!  No more Mr. Brownstone, you old muthafucker!  Fuck you old man.  We're rich, we're rich!  (Blue uniformed casino official comes to them with two security guards.  A smile appears on Mr. Brownstone's face.)

CASINO OFFICIAL:  Congratulations --

MR. BROWNSTONE:  (Bends his waist, pretends to be a senior citizen, and talks in an old dry voice.)  That's mine.  These seventeen year old kids pushed me over when they saw that I won.  These underaged gangsters shouldn't even be in here.  These disrespectful hooligans!

CASINO OFFICIAL:  Is that so!  (After checking their driver's licenses with the onsite police officer, he signals the security guards to take them out.)

JOHN:  No!  No!  Please sir!  No!

CASINO OFFICIAL:  Get outta here kids, and don't come back!  (Snatches the ticket from John and hands it to Mr. Brownstone.)

CASINO OFFICIAL: (to Brownstone)  I am so sorry about those gangsters, sir.  We'll beef up our security.  Are you alright sir?  (He hands Mr. Brownstone the ticket.  Brownstone smiles.)

JOHN, JOE, JANE:  (As being dragged out.)  You won't get away with this, Brownstone!  You old muthafucker!  Muthafucker!  Muthafucker!

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