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THIS MATERIAL IS COPYRIGHTED
GOOD SHIT By Jonathan Harris
(A man and a woman in a living room. He's reading from a car magazine. She is standing, holding a dead plant.) SHE I killed it. It's dead. HE Twenty thou... SHE It's dead. HE Too much. SHE What? HE What? SHE HE It's dead. Too much. SHE I told you not to bring it into the house. I told you I couldn't take care of it. I'm surprised it didn't kill itself sooner. HE It is red. SHE When it came into this house it had fifty million leaves. HE I would look good in it. SHE Now it has two. HE Successful. SHE I tried. I gave it water. HE I want it. SHE Direct sunlight. Indirect sunlight. No goddamned sunlight at all. HE The sunroof is the real selling point. SHE I have a black thumb. HE Funny... SHE Everything I touch turns black then dies. HE Breezy... SHE I have the Midas touch of death. I kill things. HE In the rain... SHE (She points her thumb at him.) Bang. You're dead. HE I had a Volkswagen in college that had a sunroof. That car was...young. The roof inside was covered with that plastic, funny smelling stuff peckered all over with little air holes. Part of it had come unglued and was hanging down over the back seat. It had a sunroof. The crank to open ;it was just above the rear view mirror and, on a sunny day, I could crank that sucker open between first and second gear. (He makes a car accelerating sound) ....crank, crank, crank, crank, crank, crank! (He goes into second gear and sighs) It took longer to close. SHE Patty called up the other day. HE Especially in the rain. SHE Fat, fat, water rat. Don't tell her I said so. But, she's really quite large. Maybe she's pregnant. HE I can afford it. SHE Maybe she's fat. HE Go for it. SHE She told me I had no soul. That I had the look of a woman who was clinging desperately to my fading youth by aerobicising to exhaustion, shopping to fill an emotional void, chattering endlessly about unimportant daily occurrences and giving them more importance than a human truly grounded in a more stable reality would. (He sighs) I hate Patty. HE Hmpf. SHE She's fat and still uses a curling iron. HE George is after my job again. SHE Farrah Faucet Pig. HE I'm gonna have to squash him. Once and for all. SHE She made me feel all alone. I mean all alone. Completely. HE Bob in accounting told Francine who told me that George is after my job again. SHE I want to scream. HE Francine wouldn't lie to me. Bob, maybe. But, not Francine. SHE There's too much going on here. It fills me up to capacity and overflows. It just overflows. HE George is a single man. He always will be a single man. He's the kind of wimpy figure who used to haunt the back of schoolbusses and classrooms. Who no one would sit next to cos he is such a wimp. He never did sports and was real skinny, or real blubbery, or real sissified like a woman or a weak man is. George is a loser. George is easy prey. SHE I rode a bus last week! HE Freeze, George... SHE All alone. On my own. Just a kind of whim, I guess. HE "George has been losing weight. Have you noticed?" SHE A bus has a different reality. An environment unique to busses. HE "George is looking a little pastier than usual, don't you think?" SHE The air of a bus. HE "Doesn't seem to have the energy needed to finish his work. Could it be drugs?" SHE I sat in the seat above the back wheel on the right side. I could feel every bump in the road. HE "No," I told them, "George doesn't have the stamina for drugs. Nor the money." I guess I could have told them why George is so distraught. His secretary told me over a very simple, thirty-two dollar candlelit lunch on the other side of town. SHE (jumps) Bump! HE One glass of wine would have done it. SHE Bump...bump! HE And a smile. SHE Bounce! Pot hole! Wheeeee! HE Seems poor George lost his parents last month in a terrible car accident. Both of them together. They were on their way to the airport to meet George's Aunt and Uncle in from Rangely, Maine when a semi-truck dropped out of the sky and onto their Ford Fairlane. SHE Wheee.... HE Just kind of dropped off an overpass and squished them flat. George was crushed by the news. SHE Bump. Small bump. HE Feels real guilty, I guess. Who knows why? SHE Someone opened a window and I felt a breeze I hadn't felt since I was a school girl. HE "Naaaa...", I said, "Not drugs. Not George. That's not why he looks so bad." SHE (feeling breeze) Aaaaaaahhhh..... HE "George has AIDS." SHE Bump...aaahh.... HE "George has AIDS and is going to die." SHE (rings bell) Ding! HE George should be out of the office completely by next week. If I know the office. And I do. SHE Getting off, please. HE George is easy prey. He was born that way. SHE Excuse me. Getting off now. HE We are talking livelihood here. My lifestyle goes on the back burner for nobody, buddy. SHE Oh, this big, fat lady of some vague ethnic heritage was blocking the aisle. Ding! Ding! Getting off, PLEASE! HE Thieves and assassins. Thieves and assassins. That's what my father always said. (He pulls out a vial of coke and lays out two lines on the table.) SHE She had two big shopping bags from lesser known stores in her fat, brown hands and three filthy children squalling and squeaking through their dirty, little pig mouths that had recently been shoved full of chocolate and dirt. Little pitchers with very big mouths. (He snorts a line loudly.) Get out of my way. Out! Out of my way. When did it get so crowded in here? Where did all these immigrants come from? Where am I? HE I recognize you, George. I see the evil in you wimpy-assed eyes. SHE Ding! God damn it! Ding! Ding! Ding! Getting off, PLEASE! HE I've killed before, Georgie-Porgie Puddin' Pie. Georgie-Porgie gonna die! SHE This fat, heaving, smelly, woman-like creature turned around as if she'd just heard me and I saw she had a piglet gobbling on her tit. Just...just there! Filthy. Asleep, I guess. Maybe dead. Eating still. In death-like sleep. Spilling milk out of its nose and mouth like vomit. HE Die. SHE "How did you get on this bus?" I shouted. "How did you get this way?" It was like a dream. A nightmare. All these people staring at me. Staring. The baby pigs looking at me like I was some kind of martian or something. Just because of...just because. HE You should feel privileged to be killed by me. SHE (Bends down to coke) Because I'm pretty. HE Survival of the fittest. SHE And privileged.
(She snorts coke) HE Water seeks its own level. (They stop for a moment and rest. The look at each other.) SHE Good shit. HE The best.
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