Slowhand Act I Scene 3

ACT I

SCENE 1

(Lights up on a quiet suburban street in Newcastle. A bright street lamp provides a single strong light source with background, diffuse lighting to denote a clear summer's evening at dusk. Sound of engine revving then dying. Driver disembarks from minivan leaving the door open. Sound of loud music emanates from the cassette deck: Crossroads by Cream.)
(Driver opens the remaining doors of the van, immersed in the beat of the music as Fool approaches, startling Driver by flinging his backpack into the van.)

FOOL
(Shouting over the music)
You're late!

DRIVER
Hmm?

FOOL
You're bleedin' late!

DRIVER
(Turning music down a notch)
No I'm not.

FOOL
You are! I've been here half a bleedin' hour. I was just off to give you a bell when I saw you coming. You're never late. What ...

DRIVER
(Interrupting)
I said I'd be picking the van up at half nine and getting here soon as pos after that. It's ten. I'm on time.

FOOL
(Beginning to back down)
Half nine's the time you said for being here. I distinctly heard you. Half nine.

DRIVER
Half nine's all you heard. Trouble with you is you're always somewhere else - in here ...
(Taps head)
It'd be nice if you came back and joined the rest of us sometime!

FOOL
Yeah ... well ...
(Both concentrate on the music for a little while)
Anyway ...
(Brightly - struggling to retrieve an ancient timepiece from his pocket)
... by my reckoning it's ...
(Taps watch, views it askance)
... nearly twenty past ... and I still say you're late.
(Pause)
I beg to diverge
(Stressing the word and dwelling for a moment to delight in his cleverness)
... but I think you're late.

DRIVER
(Irritably)
Diverge?! The word is differ, you idiot. You've been reading that Thesaurus again haven't you? There's a fine line between expanding your word power and confirming your total ignorance and you constantly take dirty great strides across it. That stupid book's to blame. Remind me why it was so important that I should give it to you last birthday?

FOOL
Birds ... women ... tail ... tush ... pussy ... action ... rumpy-pumpy ... Getting Some.

DRIVER
Okay, okay. Impressing the ladies is what I guess you're driving at. But talking the way I do doesn't constitute the key to success. You need all the other things. Words are just words if you can't converse. Personality ... charm ... compassion ... understanding ... consideration. You need the complete package.

FOOL
(Quickly)
I've got the complete package ...
(Clutching his crotch suggestively)
... right here.

DRIVER
(Feigning disgust)
You're just crude. There's no hope for you.
(Pause)
Anyway, I don't believe you found "tush" in the Thesaurus!

FOOL
(Triumphantly)
You can find tush anywhere if you know where to look!

DRIVER
(Amused)
Hopeless ...

(Both listen appreciatively to the closing section of Crossroads)

FOOL
(Rummaging in plastic bag full of cassettes)
(Half to himself)
You're still later than you said.

DRIVER
That stupid watch of yours. When's the last time you checked it? Give it here.
(Snatches watch)
10.23! 10.23!! The time ... and I mean the time ... British ... Summer ... Time ... is ...
(Displays digital wristwatch with a flourish)
... twenty two oh seven ... and thirty eight seconds.

FOOL
Who says?

DRIVER
Greenwich

FOOL
Greenwich. So some place at the other end of the country gets to say what time it is and we all have to accept it. That's stupid. When my grandad gave me this watch he said it never lost a single second in the forty years he had it. So as far as I'm concerned it's 10.23 Grandad Time and Greenwich can get stuffed.

DRIVER
Grandad time. You think all you have to do is wind this once a day?
(Nearing exasperation)
Besides ... its fast, not slow. Grandad ever tell you how many seconds it gained in forty years?
(Fool places a new cassette in the player. The brass intro to a familiar song.)
Okay, smart-aleck. If I'm late, how come you're the only one waiting?

FOOL
Eh? Oh! Er ...

DRIVER
Hang on. How come you are the only one waiting? It's way past ten now. Am I the only one who really cares what time it is?

FOOL
Cue for a song.

DRIVER
What?

FOOL
Cue for a song ...
(Tilts his head in the direction of the music)

DRIVER
(Dawning realisation)
Oh yeah! How'd you do that?

FOOL
Dunno.

(Both sing or mime as the brass crescendoes towards the chorus of "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" by Chicago.)

(Lights dim denoting end of scene. Music continues.)

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This page last updated June 28 2000