An Avant-Garde Play in One Act
— Cast —
The Victim’s Friend
Scene: A street in the French Quarter of New Orleans, late at night. Two men stand outside the door of a bar, smoking and speaking to each other.
The Perpetrator enters, slowly advances to the men.
Perpetrator:You seen my dog?
Perpetrator:My dog. My dog, Crash. You seen my dog? His name is Crash. He needs me.
Victim:Naw, man, I ain’t seen your dog.
Perpetrator:Now, how you know you ain’t seen my dog? You know my dog? How else you gonna know you ain’t seen him. He’s a three-legged dog. I take care of him. He needs me. His name is Crash. Whatcha know about my dog?
Victim:Man, I don’t know nothing about your dog. Now lemme alone.
Perpetrator:Fuck you, sucker! I’m looking for my dog. (He pulls a handgun from his back pants pocket. Points it at the Victim.) My dog, man! You got my dog? Where’s my dog Crash? (He swings the gun in an arc and smashes it against the Victim’s face. He hits him again, several times, repeating lines about his dog. The Victim falls to the ground, bleeding. The Perpetrator continues to beat him about the head and face. Finally, his anger abates. He calms himself down, and rises to his feet. He speaks to the Victim’s friend.) You seen my dog Crash?
Victim’s Friend:(A beat.) I think I saw a guy take a dog inside a few minutes ago.
Perpetrator:A little three-legged dog...?
Victim’s Friend:Yeah. Inside.
The Perpetrator enters the bar through the door, the gun in his hand. A pause. The Victim’s Friend runs offstage.
Now Why did I call this post Inspiration? Click here and see why. And, by the way, on the 400 block of Burgundy is a bar called The Three-Legged Dog.
You can’t make this shit up...