| Mike: | A prisoner. Name is only for reference when reading lines. May be any gender. |
| Dave: | A prisoner. Name is only for reference when reading lines. May be any gender. |
I-1-1
| SETTING: | Solitary confinement in a prison. |
Good morning sunshine. Another beautiful day in the luxury accommodations of solitary confinement.
(Sitting up) What day are we on? Is it Taco Tuesday yet?
(Sits next to DAVE) Three hundred something or other. Almost a year. Time crawls like a snail in here... a snail with a bad limp.
No, the time just flies by. You just have to focus on the good times, the funny moments.
You're right. It isn't so bad. Did I ever tell you about the month I did kitchen duty in boot camp?
I'd think you would have mentioned boot camp at some point. Marines?
I-1-2
Yes. The Marines. Boot Camp in San Diego. Three months of hell in sunny Southern California.
And you spent a whole month of that in the kitchen?
It was a week, but it turns out that there are certain things you are not allowed to do with the peanut butter and, one thing becomes another and, presto, I spent a month of punishment in the kitchen and I still had to finish out my whole three months.
I have to hear about the peanut butter. You can't just drop that into the conversation and move on.
That isn't important. Bacon is important.
Don't mention bacon. I think I've been having some rather unhealthy dreams about bacon. How long has it been since we've had bacon for breakfast.
Not long enough. After a month of prepping bacon in the kitchen for a couple thousand recruits, you never ever want to see a single strip of bacon again. I still smell it. I feel it, all that raw bacon coating my fingers as I laid out slice after slice after slice...
I-1-3
Seriously, bacon. It is bacon. That's how I got caught, you know.
You were arrested by bacon?
No. I told you about the Waffle House run, right?
Of course. You got some idiotic idea to drive from one end of I-95 to the other and rob every Waffle House along the way.
It wasn't just an idea. I did it. I started down in Miami. Pop in. Give me the cash. Pop out. Back on the highway.
You weren't scared?
At first. It is always scary at first, but then you get into the groove. It is like a dance.
A dance?
I-1-4
Sure. Honestly, I was just waiting for the press to pick a good nickname for me. The Waffle Bandit.
(Giggles.) The Short-Stack Scourge.
(Giggles.) The Griddle Grabber.
My first dance was fifth grade. Our school did like a mini-prom before we went off to junior high. A bunch of kids wearing uncomfortable clothes, mostly separated on opposite sides of the gym trying to pretend they don't want to talk to anyone else on the other side.
Mine didn't have anything like that. At least I don't think they did. I don't remember school much. It was nothing but trouble. Suspension. In school. Out of school. Expulsion. What? You steal the principal's golf cart one time.
(Interupts previous line.) Sorry. Bacon. How were you arrested by bacon? Let's try to stick to one story for once.
I-1-5
So, I'm in North Carolina. I already went through Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina. I'm just cruising from Waffle House to Waffle House and I pop into one there by Fayetteville.
Can't say I've ever been to Fayetteville. What's it like?
How would I know? I just pulled of the highway, went into the front door of the Waffle House. I had my gun. I had my mask. The same as always. You see, I'm a pro by this time. I know exactly what I'm doing.
(Looks around) Obviously. Nobody's going to catch you.
I know. Just listen. I demand the money and, right there on the counter, this guy has some eggs and like a triple load of bacon. Sizzling, golden glory on a plate.
Disgusting.
It was a trap. I swear, he had it there on purpose. I can't just walk away from an aromatic bouquet of bacon sitting just in reach.
I-1-6
So, you paused your high-stakes robbery to ask for bacon.
No, I just grabbed it. I'm robbing the place, remember? I don't ask for anything.
You asked for the money.
That is just a courtesy. I could just take the register. Seriously. When a guy comes in with a mask and a gun, you know what's up. You'd have be a complete idiot not to.
Of course. I once had a run-in with a guy with a mask and a gun when I was working security at the mall.
The fountain guy?
Yes, the fountain guy. Middle of the night, I hear something going on. I got my flashlight, one of those really long ones you can use as a club. I'm going down the hall. You know, malls are pretty spooky at night. And, suddenly, I see him.
The fountain guy.
I-1-7
Idiot is dancing in the fountain, humming to himself, with one of those giant soft pretzels in each hand.
Wait. Last time, you said the fountain guy was naked.
He was. Naked as a plucked chicken.
But, he had a mask and a gun?
I don't count the mask as being clothed. It just covered his face. Everything else was very much exposed.
If he had a pretzel in each hand, how was he holding a gun?
Look, I don't try to poke holes in your stories.
Nothing to poke, I'm telling the truth. My bacon is gospel.
You were arrested by some bacon. That's your truth?
I-1-8
No. I grab this guy's bacon, the guy at the counter with the triple load, right? And he gives me this look like, well, like a guy would have if you just stole all his bacon.
Right. And he wasn't naked or anything.
No. He was just a normal guy. But, he wasn't. I mean, he looked normal, but he was actually police.
Undercover breakfast police. The worst. Such bad luck.
No luck to it. Someone caught on that I was hitting the Waffle Houses one after another all the way up the highway.
It isn't like they needed a crack CSI team to figure it out. After the first three, it pretty much forms a straight line that even the worst detective could follow.
I don't know about any of that. All I know is that they planted a plain-clothes guy, plain clothes, not weird clothes and not naked. They planted a plain-clothes guy in each Waffle House along the way, right next to the register. This guy figures he is in for a long night, so he orders a massive pile of bacon. Entrapment!
I-1-9
Pigs do love their bacon.
Ain't that right. And he wasn't happy at all when I grabbed it. I think he actually squealed.
You'd think he might have had an issue with the whole gun-toting robbery thing as well?
We'll never know. He was too busy tackling me. I could have taken him, but then I'd have to drop either the money or the bacon.
Or the gun. Should I be asking how you were holding all three?
It is all a bit of a mystery.
And it ended with you right here in solitary confinement.
Not right away. I had that scuffle with Brady.
I-1-10
Brady?
Your friend. That's how we met, remember? I had Brady down on the ground and you stepped in and then the guards were on us.
I think you need to concentrate on your stories a bit more.
I'm just saying what I remember.
Think about it. If I was friends with someone that you got into a fight with, and it was Brady who had you down by the way, why would they put us in a cell together? It doesn't make any sense.
It's solitary confinement. They don't want anyone sitting in here by themselves.
Do you even know what solitary means?
Small? Cramped? Bad lighting?
I-1-11
Alone. By yourself. Nobody else around. That is solitary. Single. Solo. Just one.
Then why did they put two of us in here?
We've been here for over three hundred days, you telling the same stories over and over, and they change every time you tell them, and just now you ask why I am here.
I thought we were good together. I make you laugh. You make me laugh. Seriously, if you don't laugh once in a while in a place like this, you'll go crazy.
And what if you do?
Do what?
Listen. I don't know if it is just today. I think this has been building up for a while. I am getting a bit sick of how monumentally, breathtakingly dense you can be.
Maybe I'm getting sick of you trying to steal food from my meal trays. I see you eyeballing my Jell-O.
I-1-12
Exactly! Why do you get a meal tray and I don't?
You don't?
No. I don't. I don't get a meal tray. I don't use the toilet. I don't have a bed here to sleep in. I have never had a visit from anyone, no lawyer, not even a guard. How can you not notice these things?
Man, you have it worse than I do. Sorry. I didn't notice.
You don't get it. I'm not here. This isn't real.
We aren't in prison? Wait. Am I in a coma and this is all a dream? Why would I dream myself into a place like this?
(Interrupts) Stop! This prison is real. You are really in solitary confinement. I'm not real. I am just a figment of your imagination. A coping mechanism. A very old and very tired coping mechanism.
I-1-13
Hey, man. That isn't cool. That really isn't cool. Tell me again about how you tackled that kid who was trying to steal the mannequin from the lingerie store.
It didn't happen. I never did anything. Every story is just something you made up and imagined that I told you. In fact, it is all you.
This makes no sense.
Bit by bit, you are losing it. I am just another part of you that doesn't want to a part of you anymore.
Another part?
I see it now. I don't have to be here. I don't want to be here. Goodbye.
Hey! You can't leave! We're in jail together.
I-1-14
Fine. I don't need you anyway. I can entertain myself. (Thinks) Knock knock. Who's there? (Scoffs) I know. It isn't funny if I know the end.
Did I ever tell you about the time that I borrowed my uncle's truck? I say borrowed, but you know what I mean. (Thinks) Of course I do. I know exactly what I mean.
Maybe I am going a little crazy. It is just being alone. I remember so many times that I yelled at my parents, my teachers, everyone to just leave me alone. Now, I'm alone. Do you have any idea what that feels like?
Yes, exactly. It is just like that. You understand.
Oh, I tried. I asked to see a shrink all the time at first. But, they kept me in here. Just me and, what was his name? I forget. Anyway, he's gone now. What's your name?
I-1-15
Great to have someone to share solitary confinement with. Did I ever tell you about the time I decided to rob all the Waffle Houses along I-95?
OK. This is going to make you laugh. But, you like bacon, right? Of course you do.