Five Beers
Cast:
Ollie
Pat
Setting: Bar. Two tools on two stools.
(lights up, drunken laughing and gasps throughout, they should be moving drunkenly, lots of physical interaction)
Ollie: And then... that one time...
Pat: ...by the river in Gus's ford?
O: No! Ya fuckhead! I meant the other time... the river, that time, that was good, don't get me wrong going on about the river, now what's that shit... was it Springsteen playing and...
P: ... no way, not fucking Springsteen, I woulda remebered if it was fuckin' Springsteen... I mean... Bruce!! I woulda, man, remembered and shit... Bruuuuuuuuuuucccee!! Yeah, and so what was the time...
O: Bad Company... wasn't Springsteen then, Bad Company...
P: Bad Company! Love that band!
O: ... the Bad Company playing, you got... this was on Nestor's lake, I think... yeah, cuz I had the case of Hamms... and can't fucking find Hamms anymore... and Bad Company's playing and the Hamms and you got like your pants were like... the Hamms...
P: Saw some Hamms yesterday and the Fuck'n Go...
O: No shit... what's the Fuck'n Go?
P: Fuckin' Fuel 'n Go...
O: Oh shit! That's fuckin' funny! You're a fuckin' funny mutherfucker, you are! Fuel 'n Go, and you know that but you call it... uhh... what did you call it?
P: Uhhh... called it the Fuck'n Go. I did cuz...
O: Fuckin' funny... fuck'n go... that's a good one... 'steada Fuel, you say... Fuck and fuck!
P: Made it up myself, you never heard that one before?
O: No! So funny! I think I pissed myself! Fuck'n Go! I Fuck'n went!
P: Nah... ya just dumped some more beer on your pants, you're fucked up, you are...
O: Yeah... I guess... I feel a little bit... tipsy... just a little, fuckin' not drunk...
P: You're fuckin' shitfaced.
O: Seriously though... you can get Hamms there?
P: Right there.
O: Well, shit! On Nestor's lake and the Hamms is rolling around on the boat, and that shitty radio's playing Bad Company, and the engine died, and the fucking wind!
P: The wind, bad wind... I didn't like it.
O: Kinda smelled all funny, and we got no power, and no fuckin' uhhh... things to like, uhh... with the things...
P: Paddles?
O: No paddles, and the wind and it's a big fuckin' lake, and no paddles at all, no, no, no paddles, just the lake with wind and the...
P: Hamms, we had Hamms.
O: Yeah... and Bad Company and the radio and the wind pushing us toward the golf club side of the lake...
P: Yeah... fucking right to the uhhh, golf... course... and the party...
O: Big woohaa they throw every year that big what's the fuckin'... the name... the big thing with the rich folks and the nice cars...
P: That's a charity ball some sorta shit like that... they all fuckin' dancing in that huge tent... orchestra...
O: Looked like the prettiest, twinkly sorta place I'd ever seen...
P: Ohhh... yeah... the fuckin' lights everywhere... like Christmas in July...
O: Fuckin' July? Ya fuckin' numbnuts, memory you ain't got, fuck... like Christmas in July in September is what ya meant to say...
P: September?
O: Like July in September... like ninety degrees, school's back in... the kids are at school, but we... we all graduated... nothing to do but cruise Nestor's lake in late night boat rides...
P: Drinking Hamms...
O: Boats we didn't even own or have any sorta technical rights to either operate or have in our possesssion like that one lawyer always said it...
P: Lawyer... yeah... fuckin' forgot... Lawyer don't drink any Hamms...
O: More for us! Haaa-haa!
P: Douchebags!
O: So we hit the shore... decide to check out the lights...
P: Bring along the Hamms, sounds like a party, bring along the Hamms, and we say when we get close... that it didn't sound like our sorta party in anyway...
O: Hardly any laughing...
P: Just sorta these chuckles... people with like really tight, their mouths all closed, tight mouths... that kinda laugh sorta thing...
O: They weren't playing no Bad Company either...
P: Yeah... so you?
O: No, it was me.
P: That's what I said, fuckbucket!
O: So, I go back to boat, and bring the radio up to the back of the tent, crank the fuckin' Bad Company!
P: No! It was Springsteen!
O: I thought you said it wasn't Springsteen... Bad Company you cranked...
P: In the boat was Bad Company! Springsteen when I had the radio by the tent; Springsteen's playing... fuckin' "Rosalita"...
O: Fuckin' classic song! Awesome! Like fifty minutes long!
P: Great song, undisputed by all!
O: I crank the radio up, hold it over my head.
P: Figure we bring the rock to those stuffed pricks.
O: But the batteries don't like the new volume so much... and, and, and!!! Fuckin' hilarious!
P: The radio shuts up quick, the, the uhhh... the what do you call it, the... uhh... the battery door...
O: The whole fuckin' compartment opens and like 16 D batteries smack me on the head...
P: Fuckin' classic...
O: Fuckin' hurt like hell, thought I was being attacked by some axe murderer or shit, fuckin' right on the head... those batteries... funny now, though...
P: Funny all the fuckin' time...
O: The party's still going, no one heard the Bruce, I'm jumping around swearing cuz my head's been crushed by batteries...
P: So, I have the idea.
O: The idea.
P: The idea.
O: The idea.
P: The idea.
O: The fuckin'...
P: The idea.
O: The fuckin' idea, man...
P: Restore your dignity.
O: Fuckin' batteries.
P: I show you the big... uhhh... whatsits... the things...
O: Ratchets.
P: Those ratchets, hold the straps... the straps...
O: The straps hold the huge fucking poles...
P: These poles... the whole west side of the tent...
O: Three poles, right?
P: Five poles.
O: No, no, no, no, it was three poles... five straps...
P: Three? Five? I...
O: Two at each corner. Then the center, there's one.
P: Right... that's right... so these ratchets... I show you how they work, cuz I helped set up my aunt's wedding tent that summer...
O: Yeah... the wind...
P: The fuckin' wind is pulling those straps tight...
O: Real tight... those fucking things are powerful... but the wind...
P: The wind, it comes and goes... the wind dies, you the pole bounces back a little toward the stake... meaning you can mess with the ratchet, open it up...
O: Five ratchets...
P: The wind, and we got five Hamms left...
O: And the old reel we found in the boat...
P: Perfect.
O: Fuckin' perfect-as-ever perfect...
P: So, the wind dies the pole bounces back, we grunt and open each one wide...
O: Like a big metal alligator.
P: Alligator goes open wide, and we shove the Hamms can in the jaws.
O: Then close the ratchet over the can... now the fuckin' ratchet is locked in place...
P: But not the, not the, the regular ratchet lock! A full can of beer. Beer can. Can of Hamms beer holds it locked down...
O: Do that with all five of them bastards...
P: My fuckin' hands were bleeding from all the pulling and forcing...
O: Then the fishing line...
P: Tie one end to each beer tab, gather'em all together, head down to the shore by the boat...
O: Wait for the biggest fuckin' wind of the night.
P: And PULL!!
O: Shit!
P: Oh shit, that was some sight!
O: Oh, shit! Beer spraying outta those cans!
P: Fuckin' jaws crush those cans in a snap...
O: Half a snap...
P: The straps slide through the ratchets, the poles...
O: I can still hear the screaming.
P: Yeah.
O: Right on the orchestra.
P: People running outta the other end...
O: They spot us, and get suspicious...
P: But... too late...
O: We're in the boat and headed out!
P: Except.
O: Yeah. Motor doesn't work.
P: That's why we're at the golf club thing in the first place.
O: Unfortunately, neither one of us were good swimmers.
P: Shit.
O: I did too.
P: Five years. Five fuckin' years.
O: What a waste... five prime beers of our youth we'll never get back again.
P: Wasted five perfectly good Hamms.
O: And two violinists.
P: Sad.
O: We are no longer allowed to purchase or otherwise have in our possession any qauntity of Hamms Beer.
P: Too bad. It's so refreshing.
O: Well, just yesterday I made it under one thousand.
P: Shit, you're under one thousand already?
O: Already, it's been six years since we got out, Pat.
P: But I got over twelve hundred hours left.
O: Yep, just nine hundred ninety-eight for me, came in on some weekends.
P: Then you can... you can.
O: I get to buy Hamms again.
P: Shit, you're scoping that shit already...
O: Now I know where it's at, you scoping it for me.
P: The Fuck'n Go, shit...
O: Still kills me, fucking name, fucking funny.
P: Shit... you hoppin' my Hamms?
O: The fuck?
P: I said, you fuckin' hoppin' my fuckin' Hamms, Ollie?!
O: Fucking crazyass?
P: You're hoppin' my Hamms, Ollie!
O: No! No! Man, just, no... fuck!
P: My fuckin' legitimately scoped Hamms, Ollie!
O: My hours'll be done before, you can't even scope it yet!
P: Bullshit, Ollie! My fuckin' legit scoped Hamms fuckin' beer, Ollie!
O: I get it first... I'm done, the probation done, me, I get it!
P: Fuckin' no way! It's not about the fuckin' probation hours, Ollie, my fuckin' Hamms!!
O: Community service hours, Pat, mine, done so I get the Hamms!
P: You wouldn't know the Hamms was at the Fuck'n Go, without me fuckin' scoping it!
O: Bullshit, woulda found it, the hours done, the ol' Hamms detector switches on, I find, I find, beer... Hamms.
P: Bullshit!
O: Bullshit, bullshit!
P: I found it! I scoped the fuckin' Hamms... off, no fuckin' hoppin' my Hamms... no, not yours...
O: I got like almost a thousand hours left... not like I'm gonna get it now... we both know I can't do that...
P: Not yours!
O: We... like six months, then I can buy it...
P: No you fuckin' can't, Ollie... I scoped the fuckin' Hamms, Ollie!!
O: Fine ya fucker! Fine!
P: Yeah?
O: Fine, yeah.
P: Yeah?
O: Fucking yeah, alright!
P: Really?
O: Fuck...
P: Oh.
O: ...... Won't be the Hamms you scoped in six months, dickweed.
P: You fucker!!!
O: Just saying, not the same Hamms, you scoped this... not the same, new shipment...
P: Fuckin' is, fucker!
O: Some other jackass'll hop it before then... someone else with your Hamms.
P: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck.... you're fuckin' right... fuck!!
O: Yep.
P: Fuck.
O: Yeah.
P: Shit...
O: What do ya do 'bout it?
P: Shit...
O: What do ya do?
P: Fuck.
O: You said that.
P: Okay, okay, okay, okay................. we gotta get that Hamms.
O: What?
P: Gotta get it.
O: The Hamms?
P: We gotta get it.
O: We ain't allowed to purchase or otherwise have in our possession any qauntity of Hamms Beer.
P: No, I know that, but...
O: Not 'til the probation period's done, Pat, ya fuckin' know that, you fuckin' with...
P: I know that, but...
O: Cauz like six years man, fuckin' hard ass six years, only six months left, you only...
P: Yeah, 'bout seven months... but...
O: Then it's done.
P: Right, but...
O: It's done, and the Hamms is ours...
P: But...
O: Buy all the fuckin' Hamms we want.
P: We don't...
O: Fuckin' take a bath in Hamms, the beer refreshing.
P: We get it, so no one else can hop it, before we're done, then we drink it together...
O: Fuck'n Go's closed anyway, not this late, not open.
P: No problem... we break in, grab the Hamms and go...
O: We can't have any in our possession... means we can't, can't uhhh... possess it.
P: Yeah, we'll store it under my neighbor's shed... fucker ain't touched that thing in a loooonnggg fuckin' time.
O: No, fuck no, Pat!
P: Be good for the Hamms, age it for seven months, shit'll be sweet... dirt-aged, good shit...
O: Five years we did, five, fuck, no, I can't...
P: Someone'll hop the Hamms, Ollie. Can't have that... can't have the...
O: Fuck.
P: Can't have the Hamms hopped, my buddy! See, we hide it, no possession, right...
O: Seems like, but...
P: So that's the idea...
O: The idea?
P: The idea.
O: The idea.
P: The fucking idea.
O: Perfect-as-ever perfect?
P: Wouldn't fuck with ya, man.
O: We don't possess it?
P: No, so we don't get in trouble. Probation's still good.
O: We're good?
P: Break in, free the beer, transport it to my neighbor's shed... boom... it's done...
O: It's done?
P: Done.
O: Done.
P: Done.
O: Five years, man...
P: Shit... you're right.
O: Was a long time, Pat.
P: Yeah... then we'll grab some jerky too.
O: Jerky?
P: Why not. But, don't fuckin' lose sight of the goal... it's really 'bout the Hamms.
O: For the Hamms?
P: Fuckin' right.
O: Okay.
P: For the Hamms.
O: The Hamms.
P: Fuckin' A.
O: Yeah, the Hamms.
P: The Hamms.
O: Fuckin' A!
P: We better head...
O: Bar's closing down...
P: And we got a ways to walk.
O: Good thing 'bout losing your license, ya can drink more.
P: Yeah, let's go... Hamms is waiting.
(head offstage as lights start fading, their voices grow more distant)
O: Shit.
P: Windy as fuck tonight.
O: Wind smells kinda funny, Pat.
P: The Hamms, Ollie, the Hamms.
O: Yeah, the Hamms.
(lights out)
(end)
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