SCUMBAGUETTE (fit 1)
(The living room of a pretty nice apartment. It's messy, though. CDs, half-eaten meals, socks and clothing, books, games, and chessboards -- loads of chessboards. An overhead light illuminates a central board -- set up, and in the middle of a game -- but you can pick out a few others, too. There are plaques on the wall; chess trophies, chess books, a large chess clock, and chess pieces galore.)
(Two people, a girl and a boy, and loudly having sex in the bedroom, which is offstage. Maybe you see them for a moment, and maybe you don't. The television is on, but it's the radio we hear:)
RADIO COMMERCIAL (MALE VOICE)
...those harmful impurities that infiltrate your boosters, gum up the works, and make it impossible for your boosters to blast.
RADIO COMMERCIAL (FEMALE VOICE)
Let's get rid of them! How do we get rid of them?
RADIO COMMERCIAL (MALE VOICE)
Now there is a way! Special new electro blasters actually purify your boosters, leaving no stinky residue, and giving you a nice, clean, white surface.
RADIO COMMERCIAL (FEMALE VOICE)
Wow!
RADIO COMMERCIAL (MALE VOICE)
Listen to it squeak! (There is a squeaking sound.) Remember, that's Euro Nato. Euro Nato. The first word in bottom lines.
RADIO ANNOUNCER
(Over insipid-sounding rock guitar.) 4:14 on WLUZ, and you're listening to Augie in the A.M. We wanna know how you feel.
AUGIE
Good morning! I hope you all had a lovely Easter, and tomorrow, it's back to work, so snuggle up, sleep tight, and catch those zzzzs for Uncle Augie, please! We're gonna open the phone lines at (718)-667-5252, and the topic tonight is black people: their effect on you. Gilon in White Plains, you're on with Augie.
GILON
(Tentatively.) Hey, Augie? Augie Memnon?
AUGIE
You're on the air, Gilon.
GILON
Hey, Augie, love ya, love your show. First time caller, long time listener.
AUGIE
What's on your mind tonight.
GILON
Well, I called, I wanted, to talk about black people.
AUGIE
Shoot.
GILON
I don't like them.
AUGIE
And why is that?
GILON
They do a lot of crimes, Augie.
AUGIE
Gilon, Gilon. Plenty of crimes are done by white people, too.
GILON
Aaw, Aug, I read where you're five times more likely to get, where a black guy is five times more likely than a white guy to go to jail.
AUGIE
Do you have any idea how many black people there are in the world?
GILON
And if you do the crime, you've got to do the time, is alls I'm saying. That's alls I'm saying.
AUGIE
Do you have any idea how many black people there are in the world?
GILON
Lots. There's lots of them.
AUGIE
Right. That's right, Gilon. There's lots of 'em. Even more than you think.
GILON
It's, I'm not a racist, but sometimes. You know? I think, a black man that does something great, that's beautiful. That's beautiful. But face facts is alls I'm saying.
AUGIE
I can see that this is a very emotional subject for you.
GILON
Nobody calls me a racist.
AUGIE
Nobody's calling you anything.
GILON
Nobody calls me a racist. I don't care if you're black, white, yellow, or polka dots. Alls I'm saying is you gotta face facts. There's something wrong, with the world today, Aug. Member how it used to be?
AUGIE
I sure do. Uncle Augie remembers. Thanks, Gilon. Thanks for the call. An interesting voice, with passionate things to say. Nathaniel in Massapequa, you're on with Augie.
NATHANIEL
Hi, I wanna comment on what that last caller just said.
(Meanwhile, our hero has been trying not to spoo.)
BOY'S VOICE
Oooooh.....
GIRL'S VOICE
Not yet....
BOY'S VOICE
Unnnnggghhh... oh god.
GIRL'S VOICE
Not yet... not yet...
BOY'S VOICE
Ooooooohh.... ooooh god....!!
GIRL'S VOICE
Not yet. Not yet!
BOY'S VOICE
(Letting go.) UngnhnhooohOHHHH!!!
(There is silence for a moment. Then, a loud crack.)
BOY'S VOICE
(Reeling from the punch.) Oww!! Oww!!
(Out into the living room comes LUXOTTICA Frame, a long-nosed woman of twenty-four. She has a curly head of brown hair, ans a severe expression on her face. She is furiously dressing her tiny body, but her little hands are balled into fists.)
(Andrew GILLIGAN follows her into the living room, not bothering to put on any clothing. Pale and wan, he comports himself pathetically.)
GILLIGAN
What did you, what? (LUXOTTICA continues dressing.) What? Wha? Where are you going?
LUXOTTICA
(Pulling on her tights.) I am going home.
GILLIGAN
But it's, it's four o' clock in the morning, you're going to walk back to Sussex Street now?
LUXOTTICA
Andrew.
GILLIGAN
What.
LUXOTTICA
Put your pants back on.
(GILLIGAN searches for his pants, finds them slung over a chessboard, and steps into them, pleading as he does.)
GILLIGAN
Can we, talk a minute, can we... c'mon, Luxottica, don't go. Just, wait awhile, and we'll go our for coffee.
LUXOTTICA
(Who is now fully dressed, and searching for her coat.) Listen to me. You are, indisputably, the worst lay in the whole United States. Please, Andrew, stay away from women.
GILLIGAN
C'mon, Luxottica, you're.... c'mon, it's not safe out there.
(LUXOTTICA opens the door and walks out.)
GILLIGAN
C'mon.
(The Grove Street Chess Club. It's a dingy, smoke-filled, ground-floor storefront. It looks like a converted bodega, which is exactly what it is. Dusty, autographed pictures of Garry Kasparov, Boris Spassky, and Anatoly Karpov glare down from the wall. Three chess tables, each equipped with a chess clock and pieces, are screnched in along the back wall. It's raining outside, and water drips from a crack in the ceiling.)
(Andrew GILLIGAN sits on his haunches, studying a chessboard. Across from him sits BHOPAL, a nine year old Indian boy. BHOPAL scrutinizes the board with an equivalent fierceness, although there are more of his black pices left than GILLIGAN's white ones. BHOPAL periodically strokes an orange, which rests on the table to his left.)
(At the table to right of GILLIGAN and BHOPAL, two ancient men in full Russian dress -- fur caps, patterned overcoats with cyrillic letters on them, clogs -- play furiously. At the table to the right sits a solitary derelict, who plays against himself, moving both black and white pieve, grunting, and slapping the chess clock as he does.)
(A black and white television broadcasts the six o'clock news.)
NEWSWOMAN
... thanks, Jim, we're in the Greenville section of Jersey City, New Jersey, where a brutal murder has shocked the resients of the Woodrow Wilson houses into a steely, uneasy submission. Twenty-four year old LaShwando Littles broke into this fourth floor apartment building, and shot down his girlfriend Latrina Hardson, like an animal, for flirting, with his cousin. Littles threw the dead body down the stairwell, and reportedly laughed as it tumbled to the sidewalk. Neighbors were stunned:
NEIGHBOR
I can' understand why anybody. Anybody. Would do such a thing.
NEWSWOMAN
This .54 revolver was the weapon LaShwando Littles used in the murder -- the specially coated "cop killa" teflon bullets aare powerful enough to rip through concrete, metal, even neutrinos. Little is in custody at the 34th precinct, where he faces arraignment on charges of murder in the first degree.
ANCHORMAN JIM
Thanks, Shontelle. In good news today, it was reported that people are 12% happier than they were last year. Reasons cited for the increase were conditioning, good nutrition, and lifestyle. When we come back, a very special Newark woman does something really positive, and Beniamir got our soggy forecast. Details after this.
PITCHMAN
Do you have saggy, baggy eyes?
HOUSEWIFE
I do!
PITCHMAN
Well, perk them up! Perk up, with Perkoset! Just a drop of Perkoset between the lip and gum can give hours of relieve for your sagging, bagging eye.
HOUSEWIFE
Thanks! I feel better already.
PITCHMAN
Perkoset. Now at CVS.
VOICEOVER
(As an ominous synthesizer plays a crescendo.) A plague has hit our inner cities. It has decimated our downtowns, infested our schools, and soiled our streets. It comes from Venezuela, Colombia, Panama, and over the border from Mexico. It is the scourge of drugs. Won't you join with me, Bob Abbott, in resisting this bad element. It's just, not worth it.
GIRL'S VOICE
Paid for by the Citizens for a Clean America.
JINGLE SINGERS
When you're out with friends, and you don't know what to do... Stop at the bar, and have a pint of Bronski Brew. Because -- Nothing brings friends together like good times. Gooood times. Good times go down with Bronski Brew.
RIPPIN' MASCULINE VOICE
On Hunter.... Hawk goes to Africa to stop a killer. Tonight at nine.
ANCHORMAN JIM
We're back. And Beniamir has the weather for us. Can we get a little sunshine soon?
BENIAMIR
(In a noticeably East Indian accent.) Sorry, Jim. Rain, rain, rain. Nothing but grey skies ahead.
ANCHORMAN JIM
Awww. There goes my golf swing. I'm gonna be out of practice.
BENIAMIR
Ha haha ah ahha. Yes, it looks to be a wet couple of days, until this low pressure system sitting just south of the Great Lakes decides to move. As you can see on the radar, there's all the clear, cold air from Canada. It's mixing with this hot air from the tropics, and that's causing loads of trouble. Our accu-weather readings: fifty-five and cloudy right now, going down to a low of thirty-eight tonight. Tomorrow? More reain, should be a little warmer, peaking at sixty. No break on Wednesday, but Thursday, the sun may finally peek through. Jim?
ANCHORMAN JIM
Remember, wherever you go, whatever you do. The news van is always there.
(The action in the chess shop continues through the news reports. BHOPAL and GILLIGAN study the board with a ferocious intensity. Finally, GILLIGAN moves a white rook backward two squares.)
(BHOPAL strokes the orange lovingly.)
BHOPAL
Very foolish, Mr. Bond.
GILLIGAN
I hate that. I hate it when you say that.
BHOPAL
(Queen bishop takes white knight.) I fear for your concentration, Andrew. It used to be frightfully total.
GILLIGAN
And what is the deal with that, put away that orange. It's bothering me.
BHOPAL
Oh, it's working? I am glad you like it. It is my new unnerving tactic. The fact that I am stroking this orange is so thoroughly illogical that it unnerves my opponents and forces careless blunders like the ones you have been making all evening. (Pause.) Your move.
GILLIGAN
It's all this extraneous, this television, I can't, c'mon... (GILLIGAN turns to the psycho derelict, who is hammering the chess clock ruthlessly.) Will you stop that?
PSYCHO DERELICT
Grrrr!
BHOPAL
I advise resignation, Andrew.
GILLIGAN
Sure. No! I can, I mean...
BHOPAL
Andrew, look at me, look at me. Where is the tiger that inspired me to try for grand master, back when I was a mere child? Where is that clarity, decisiveness, board vision?
(ANDREW stares at BHOPAL blankly.)
Is it the game, is it wearing you down? I advise you to diversify your focus. It cannot always be chess, chess, and more chess. Please, Andrew, develop a hobby.
(BHOPAL reaches under the table.)
For example, I find these Mighty Morphin Power Rangers extremely diverting.
(Andrew stares in horror.)
BHOPAL
(Animating the action figures.) Blam blam! Pow pow!
(Andrew and BHOPAL are walking together on Grove Street in a drizzle. GILLIGAN looks miserable.)
GILLIGAN
No, Bhopal, you don't understand. It's different; look. As you get older, it gets different and harder to concentrate. It's, like, chess is a game of black and white, and the world stops, it isn't all black and white anymore.
BHOPAL
Rubbish!
GILLIGAN
Wha?
BHOPAL
From what cereal box did you get that platitude? You are talking nonsens. Klozov will be here any day, and you had better het your game, and your life, in top shape. All of your fans are counting on you.
GILLIGAN
What fans? I have no fans.
BHOPAL
Young players, then. The young chessplayers of Jersey City.
GILLIGAN
What are you, there are no young chessplayers of Jersey City! Nobody plays chess anymore!
(BHOPAL looks up at him, hurt. There's rain on his eyelashes.)
GILLIGAN
Sorry, sorry.
(Pause.)
I'm sorry.
Go on to Fit #2.
