MR. UNIVERSE
Page 17
GRIP and BEST BOYD are eating lunch near the blanket but not on it. They are each reading a gay porn magazine.
GRIP. Did anybody see the ship yet?
BEST BOYD. Nope.
GRIP. Is anybody keeping watch?
BEST BOYD. Of course somebody’s keeping watch. Relax.
GRIP. I just got the creeps, that’s all.
BEST BOYD. Nobody can fault you for that.
GRIP. This place is so goddamn quiet.
BEST BOYD. Of course it’s quiet. There’s nobody here.
GRIP. I wish we would finish up and get the hell out of here.
BEST BOYD. Relax. You want to go for a swim later?
GRIP. Hell no I don’t want to go for a swim.
BEST BOYD. It’s a shame to waste all this beach.
GRIP. I’ve had enough of this beach for one lifetime. The minute I see that ship I’m getting my ass out of here.
BEST BOYD. It’s not due here for a while.
GRIP. I don’t care, I’m keeping my clothes on.
BEST BOYD. Suit yourself.
(They eat again in silence.)
GRIP (looking offstage, seeing a crowd of people). Where’s Joe? I see everybody else but I don’t see Joe.
BEST BOYD. Probably back at the helicopter fucking the pilot, if I know Joe.
GRIP. Goddamn, he better not be.
BEST BOYD. You can’t tell him nothing.
GRIP. If he’s too tired to get it up this take I’m going to kick his ass.
BEST BOYD. Big talk. You can’t kick a star.
GRIP. The hell I can’t.
BEST BOYD. Blue Donna won’t like that kind of talk around Joe.
GRIP. Fuck Blue Donna. If that son of a bitch keeps me here one minute longer than I have to be here I will kick his ass from both ends. Pea-brain bastard. I knew he was trying to get in the pilot’s pants.
BEST BOYD. So were you. So was I. So was everybody.
GRIP. Prissy little stuck-up jerk.
BEST BOYD (checking watch). Won’t be long now.
GRIP (nervously). What won’t be long?
BEST BOYD. The end of lunch. What do you think, I’m going to sit here and let a bomb fall on us?
GRIP. I’m just edgy, that’s all.
(Enter PUG MONTREAT.)
MONTREAT. This heat.
BEST BOYD. You said it.
MONTREAT. It’s just unbelievable. I don’t see how these natives in these mythical places stand it.
BEST BOYD. It must be hard.
MONTREAT. This heat and these bugs.
BEST BOYD. Of course there’s nobody here anymore.
MONTREAT. True.
BEST BOYD. I walked in the village and didn’t even see a lizard on a rock.
MONTREAT. I don’t actually see what that’s got to do with the heat.
BEST BOYD. If there were more people here to absorb the heat it would be cooler.
GRIP. I read about that.
BEST BOYD. If this place was, like, a resort, we would be absolutely air-conditioned.
GRIP. This magazine article. Maybe it was in Time. Or Life.
MONTREAT. How much longer is it?
BEST BOYD. Till what?
MONTREAT. Till we can leave.
BEST BOYD. We just got this last session on the blanket.
MONTREAT. Am I in this one?
(GRIP stifles laughter.)
BEST BOYD. No sweetheart, this is just Joe and you-know-who.
MONTREAT. I’m not getting very much footage in this film.
BEST BOYD. You got that nice long take in the hut.
MONTREAT. Joe was on top of me the whole time, nobody could see me.
GRIP. Let’s don’t talk about this shit right now, I’m trying to eat.
(MONTREAT sulks.
Enter HUGH YOUNG, carrying a book, wearing a beach-length terry cloth robe with a hood. The hood is pulled over his head so that his whole face is in shadow; the impression should be extravagant and sinister.
HUGH YOUNG goes to the blanket, fumbles through a bag, and finds a pack of cigarettes. This should be done quickly but not hurriedly.
Exit HUGH YOUNG.
HUGH YOUNG does not acknowledge the presence of the others, nor do they speak while HUGH YOUNG is onstage. This should be awkward, as if they have just been talking about HUGH.)
MONTREAT. Have you seen Blue Donna?
GRIP. I don’t know where she is. (Looks at newspaper; to BEST BOYD.) Can you believe Eisenhower?
BEST BOYD. Hell no. Can you?
GRIP. Hell no. I think the motherfucker is crazy.
BEST BOYD. Me too.
GRIP. How about Truman?
BEST BOYD. He was another crazy motherfucker.
GRIP. I sure am glad I don’t look like his daughter.
BEST BOYD. God.
GRIP. You ever hear her sing?
BEST BOYD. No. Can she sing?
GRIP. Hell no.
MONTREAT. She’s got to put me in this scene. I could just stand over the two of them and do a hand job.
GRIP. Sounds like a frog. Tries to sing this popular stuff.
BEST BOYD. I say, if you can’t sing, don’t.
GRIP. You read about this guy?
BEST BOYD. Which one?
GRIP (pointing to a picture in the newspaper). This guy. How do you say it? Man, he makes me nervous.
BEST BOYD. Me too.
GRIP. I mean, the creeps.
BEST BOYD. Yeah, I know.
GRIP. How do you know you’re not a Communist?
BEST BOYD. Beats me. I guess you have to read these books.
GRIP. Like that Marx?
BEST BOYD. Yeah. Those guys.
GRIP. But if you read it, like, maybe, doesn’t that make you look like you are one?
BEST BOYD. Best thing to do is, go in the library and read the books, and don’t ever check them out. You know? Don’t leave any records.
MONTREAT. I have some overdue books.
BEST BOYD. You read?
MONTREAT. Sure. Cookbooks and stuff.
GRIP. This whole thing kills me. This Communism. You know?
BEST BOYD. I don’t even know what it is.
MONTREAT. It means you don’t own anything yourself but everybody owns everything and they share it. I read all about it. I used to think it was pretty neat. Look, don’t you think we could use a third in this shot? I mean, I know you’re not creative people but don’t you think I’m right? I could just stand over the blanket behind Joe and Hugh and jerk off. Just a simple, sort of a subtle hand job. I did that in Dust in the Sand and it worked great.
(GRIP mumbles something.)
MONTREAT. Excuse me?
GRIP. I had a frog in my throat.
MONTREAT. I thought you said something.
BEST BOYD. How long ago did you make Dust in the Sand?
MONTREAT. That’s not important. It’s the concept that’s important.
GRIP. Well, we’re not creative people.
BEST BOYD. Yeah.
(The VOICEOVER is simply a miked voice.
No actor should appear on stage to represent the VOICEOVER.)
VOICEOVER. He was reading a page from the book. He had found a book on the beach, half-buried in the sand. It looked to him as if the book had dropped onto the beach out of the future and was just lying there. For anybody to pick up. So he did.
BEST BOYD. Whose thoughts are these?
GRIP. Don’t look at me.
VOICEOVER. When he read the book, he felt as if he already knew everything in it, even though he had never read about nuclear theory before. It occurred to him that there was something odd about the book, something unusual. Many of the concepts seemed far in advance of the elementary science book he remembered. Sure enough, when he checked the date of the copyright, he discovered that the book had not yet been published. Following this discovery, he read the book with increased fascination.
BEST BOYD. Somebody with a book.
GRIP. Hugh Young had a b
ook when he came in.
MONTREAT. This is incredible.
BEST BOYD. What is?
MONTREAT. I’m having the most sensational feeling right now.
BEST BOYD. Really?
MONTREAT. Yes. I can’t explain it. But I have this urge to tell you all sorts of revealing things about myself. To touch your heart. To reveal myself as a fully rounded character in all my complexities. Right here, right now.
GRIP. Great.
MONTREAT. I’m serious.
GRIP. Sounds fantastic.
MONTREAT. What do we really know about each other, anyway?
BEST BOYD. I’ve often thought that. What do we really know?
MONTREAT. This is wonderful. This is really terrific. I feel as if I stand at some crossroads in my life, as if the events of the next few minutes could have a profound impact on me and, really, all of human history and the world. Let’s talk.
BEST BOYD. What does this have to do with the book?
MONTREAT. What book?
BEST BOYD. The book we were just talking about. The one from the future—
MONTREAT. That’s it. The future. I can feel my whole future stretching out in front of me. This is just the beginning. Tomorrow and tomorrow and all that. My career is not over. My life is just beginning. This is terrific. I feel this incredible sense of myself as a worthwhile person. Each moment of our lives is so fleeting. Every person we meet has something to offer. (Looks at BEST BOYD and GRIP.) Well. Say something.
GRIP. I think you would look pretty stupid jerking off behind Joe and Hugh.
MONTREAT. Pardon me, what did you say?
GRIP. You heard me.
MONTREAT. I believe I did.
(Blackout.
GRIP and BEST BOYD lie facedown on the blanket.
MONTREAT pulls out a screenplay and begins to study it.
Enter DAWN STEVENS.)
DAWN STEVENS (to audience). I would like to perform the following piece. (DAWN sets up a chair or stool in a particular spot.) Light please. (Light comes up on the stool.) This chair represents the mass-media consumerist culture being forced on the rest of the world by the dominant white capitalist elite. Music please.
(Music comes up.
DAWN begins to move abstractly in relation to the chair or stool.
She is attempting to take on the shape of the chair or stool but is having trouble.
She can’t get the hang of the necessary perpendiculars, cannot capture the essence of the seating device.)
MONTREAT (reading from the script). You know what I want. You know what I need. Baby. I’m it. I’m the 1. For U. Look at that. Look at that stuff. That’s all for U. All for U baby. Yeah. Come on. Yeah, that’s it. You know what to do. You’ve got the touch. Hold it. Go easy now. That’s it. Nice and easy. Rough stuff comes later. Yeah. That’s it. Make it smooth. Real smooth. I’ll tell you about smooth some day. Oh baby. Look out. I’m almost ready. I’m almost there. Yeah, you can take it can’t you. You can take it all.
DAWN. New movie?
MONTREAT. Yes. I have an audition as soon as I get home.
DAWN. Sounds like the same old shit.
MONTREAT. Pretty much.
DAWN. I don’t see why they bother to write it down. What’s this one called?
MONTREAT. Hit Me with Your Hard Hat. It has a really neat scene in the kitchen while they’re making slaw.
(Blackout.
DAWN STEVENS lies down on the blanket between GRIP and BEST BOYD.
Enter JOE LUBE COOL, in jeans, a leather jacket, leather trappings, boots, and a leather cap pulled down over the eyes, throwing the face into shadow.
JOE LUBE COOL faces away from the audience.
MONTREAT kneels in front of JOE.)
MONTREAT. Do you think this is right?
VOICEOVER. He doesn’t think about it.
MONTREAT. That we treat each other like this I mean.
VOICEOVER. He doesn’t think about anything. He just stands there.
MONTREAT. You know what I mean. We’re supposed to be making a movie.
VOICEOVER. He looks off in the distance. He has a fantastic body. He has perfect vision. He can see the leaves of the palms far away. He can see the shadows of the leaves on the sand. He cannot see the man at his feet.
(MONTREAT wraps himself around JOE’s feet.)
MONTREAT. I think we should just talk. We have a lot to say. We have a lot to share with each other. I want to get to know you as a person. I want to experience you. I want to touch your life in a very special way, unlike anything that any lover has ever given you before. I think we should go away for the weekend. Really get away. Spend some time alone. Share some real solitude. Together. We should talk about it.
(Blackout.
Lights rise slowly.
JOE has turned to face the audience.
His face is still shadowed by the brim of the leather cap.
MONTREAT is behind him.
MONTREAT embraces JOE, running hands beneath the leather jacket, along JOE’s torso.)
MONTREAT. Are we rehearsing? (Pause; no answer.) What time is it? Tuesday? (Pause; no answer.) I love touching you like this. It reminds me of so much. So many other times. Is that right? Is that what I’m supposed to say?
(MONTREAT steps away from JOE LUBE COOL, turns, and walks across GRIP, BEST BOYD, and DAWN; exit MONTREAT.
While the VOICEOVER speaks, JOE remains in light onstage, leather jacket over shoulder, torso bare.)
VOICEOVER. He pictured them fucking. In his brain they were all naked and fucking wildly. The men and the women were coming again and again. They were screaming at the tops of their lungs. The women were totally destroyed by pleasure. The men were having fantastic orgasms that lasted almost an hour. There was a heap of them on the blanket and asses were flying. He wondered what would happen if he described something like that out loud. If he suggested something like that. Even though he was a porn star, people would be shocked. People thought that was just for the movies. People thought he was just making that up. But he really wanted to fuck like that. Fantastically. Without ever stopping.
(Exit JOE.
Lights rise on DAWN STEVENS and BLUE DONNA MORGAN.
They are having a story conference.
Everyone else is offstage.)
BLUE DONNA. All the footage with Montreat sucks so far.
DAWN. I have to agree.
BLUE DONNA. That stuff about the Bible. Jesus, where was that coming from? I mean, I know I told him to improvise but that stuff just stinks.
DAWN. I think he has a lot of hang-ups about his childhood.
BLUE DONNA. He doesn’t look so bad till he opens his mouth.
DAWN. How old is he?
BLUE DONNA. God knows.
DAWN. Maybe you can do something in the editing room.
BLUE DONNA. What I ought to do is beat the motherfucker to death.
DAWN. You can cut the scene in and out of this solo scene, the one with Joe humping the motorcycle.
BLUE DONNA. That’s great stuff, isn’t it?
DAWN. Nobody’s ever seen anything like it.
BLUE DONNA. Looks like they’re joined right here. (Indicates the pelvic region.) God he looks fantastic.
DAWN. Joe’s a star all right.
BLUE DONNA. He’s worth every penny we’re paying if he’d just stop fucking everything that moves.
DAWN. He’s nervous.
BLUE DONNA. What’s he got to be nervous about? We’re paying him a fortune. I’m the one who should be nervous.
DAWN. We’re all tense.
BLUE DONNA. Hugh’s got some tranquilizers if you’re bad off.
DAWN. I don’t want pills.
BLUE DONNA (moving closer). What’s the matter baby?
DAWN. This place. It’s starting to get to me.
BLUE DONNA. Are you kidding? This place is fantastic. Look at that beach. Did you ever see such a great beach? Did you ever see such great weather?
DAWN. You know what I me
an.
BLUE DONNA. You’re worried about the bomb. Right?
DAWN. I wish you hadn’t said anything about it. It’s creepy, knowing about it before everybody else.
BLUE DONNA. Where’s your sense of adventure? I think it’s great.
DAWN. The queens are really nervous about it.
BLUE DONNA. You mean Grip is nervous. Boyd could give a fuck.
DAWN. Boyd is crazy.
BLUE DONNA. He’s great. He’s fantastic. The guy can handle anything. (Pause.) Hey, look, you think we ought to leave? Is that what you think?
DAWN. You mean it?
BLUE DONNA. Sure. If this thing is getting to you—if you don’t think we’re safe here. (Looks at DAWN, shrugs.)
DAWN. But you’ve invested every cent you’ve got.
BLUE DONNA. I want you to feel safe, baby.
DAWN. You’d do that for me? All that money?
(BLUE DONNA shrugs again.)
DAWN. This is great. This is fantastic. I can’t believe you.
BLUE DONNA. We have something special. You know? You and me. We’ve got a good thing, we ought to keep it. You know? I’m crazy about you. Been like that ever since Take a Lick on the Wild Side. Remember? That day you stood in a tub of petroleum jelly six hours and never complained. You remember?
DAWN. How could I forget? (Pause.) No. You’re right. We have to finish this. It’s important. It’s more than just the money. It’s history. You know?
BLUE DONNA. Right. History.
DAWN. I mean, we’re here. Right? And so is the bomb. Over there somewhere. In a plane.
BLUE DONNA. There’s no plane, sweetheart.
DAWN. Well what are they going to drop it out of?
BLUE DONNA. It’s on a tower. Over that way.
DAWN. You mean it’s already here? (Looks uncomfortably over that way.) How do you know so much about this thing?
BLUE DONNA. I have my sources.
DAWN. Come on. You can trust me.
BLUE DONNA. Well. You know I was in physics, right? During the war. Well, I can’t tell you what I was working on, but you have heard of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, right?
DAWN. You mean—
(BLUE DONNA nods her head slowly.)
DAWN. You could be a pretty dangerous person, baby.
BLUE DONNA. They didn’t know I was a lesbian at the time. Hell, I didn’t know I was a lesbian at the time.
DAWN. So you know about subatomic theory too? You understand the theory behind this … device. Right? And we’re safe.