Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth

Author:Jez Butterworth [Jez Butterworth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781780010151
Publisher: Nick Hern
Published: 2012-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

ACT THREE

Five o’clock. A Spitfire flies over. A distant crowd cheer. The church bell sounds.

Enter DAVEY and LEE. Both in sunglasses. LEE has his ‘FARE WELL LEE?’ T-shirt on, and a goldfish in a bag. DAVEY is holding a giant toy rabbit, cuddly, practically the size of him. They each have candyfloss. DAVEY and LEE lift up their sunglasses and look around.

LEE knocks on the door.

LEE. Rooster. It’s us. Open up. (Knocks.) Rooster? Rooster. Open the door. (He bangs on the door.) Johnny, mate. It’s Lee and Davey. We’ve come… we’ve come to say sorry.

DAVEY. No we ain’t.

LEE. Shut up. Yes we have.

DAVEY. No we ain’t. We’ve come for whizz.

LEE. Shut up, will you.

DAVEY. I’ve come for whizz.

LEE. Rooster! (Knocks.) Rooster, mate?

Enter GINGER, in a pith helmet and shades, holding a coconut.

DAVEY. You all right, Corporal?

GINGER. Visual, mate. Very visual. Basically brilliant in the legs. Good in the middle. The top third’s iffy. Blinding headache. Basically, it feels like I’ve got, like, this incredibly heavy hundred-pound weight on my head.

LEE. Permission to take hat off.

GINGER. What? What hat?

LEE. The one on your head, mate. The one you won on the bric-a-brac.

GINGER. What are you talking about? (Looks up.) Oh, that. That won’t come off.

LEE. Try.

GINGER. I’ve tried. I can’t get it off.

LEE. You want a hand?

GINGER. No, don’t fucking touch it.

LEE. Mate. Give me the coconut.

GINGER. Don’t take my coconut.

LEE. Ginge –

GINGER. I’m serious. Do not touch my coconut.

LEE. You’re just high. Put the coconut down.

GINGER. Fuck off. Don’t make me use this.

LEE. Drop it. Drop the coconut…

GINGER. Do – Not – Make – Me – Use – This.

LEE. Okay. Just put it down. On the floor. One. Two. Three.

GINGER puts the coconut on the floor.

And rest. How was that?

GINGER. I don’t want to talk about it.

LEE. All right. Do this. All right. Copy me. Ready. One. Two. Three.

LEE mimes taking a hat off. GINGER lifts the pith helmet off.

GINGER. Oh God. That’s better. That’s so much better. That was like a vice. That was awful. It was like my ears couldn’t breathe.

LEE. You’re all right now, mate. Settle. Regroup.

GINGER. I’m back on top. That is so much better. I was momentarily in trouble there. (To LEE.) Is he there?

LEE. I don’t know. (Knocks.)

DAVEY. Here, Ginger. I just got a texter from 2 Trevs and one Trev said he’d had a punch-up with the other Trev, and they’ve split up.

GINGER (stops). What?

DAVEY. They’ve disbanded. 2 Trevs is no more. They’ve gone home. You want to get up The Cooper’s car park. Your public awaits.

GINGER. But… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m… I’m…

DAVEY. It’s your big break, mate.

GINGER. I’m roasted.

DAVEY. Use it, mate. Boss the stone, mate. Get up on top and boss it. Your canvas is The Cooper’s car park, your brush Beyoncé and ‘The Birdie Song’. It is time to bring the ruckus.

GINGER. I don’t have my decks. My records.

DAVEY. Then go get your records. Get a move on. Time waits for no man. Carpe diem.

GINGER. Hang on.

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