Murder Pact

Rob Zimmermann encouraged me write a sequel to a short play I wrote titled, Suicide Pact. I had some inspiration over the last couple weeks and decided to give it a try.

*

MURDER PACT

CHARACTERS

VINCE
THRASH
POLICEMAN

SETTING
A small apartment with a broken television.

(VINCE sorts through a collection of butcher knives while THRASH measures poison.)

VINCE: Dude, we’ll never become famous artists.

THRASH: Let’s hurry up and become famous for murder. It’s a lot easier.

VINCE: We’ve got to finesse it a little.

THRASH: Why?

VINCE: People kill each other all the time. We have to stand out.

THRASH: So, we eat people?

VINCE: We tried that; they taste awful.

THRASH: That’s why we decapitate them first.

VINCE: I don’t understand how that helps.

THRASH: People guilt trip you when they have heads. I’ve got enough on my conscious without making eye contact and feeling awkward.

VINCE: There’s a problem.

THRASH: What’s that?

VINCE: We have no car and one roller skate.

THRASH: What happened to the other?

VINCE: I sold it for ramen.

THRASH: Why would they buy a single roller skate?

VINCE: Some people aren’t so plegic as you and I.

THRASH: (understandingly.) I see. What else can we move on?

VINCE: I found a pogo stick in the closet.

THRASH: We’re going on a rampage with one roller skate and a pogo stick?

VINCE: I thought you could hang onto me while I bounce.

THRASH: That could work.

(THRASH fastens a roller skate as VINCE climbs on the pogo stick.)

VINCE: Let’s ride!

THRASH: (hanging onto Vince for support.) How do we kill people like this?

VINCE: Snap their necks. Everyone will talk about the Roller Pogo killers and their neck snapping mayhem.

THRASH: I don’t know how to snap someone’s neck.

VINCE: Gimli snapped orc necks in Lord of the Rings. People are like orcs, right?

THRASH: I suppose their anatomy is similar. (They bounce and roll their way outside.) Who do we kill first?

VINCE: How about that lonely soul in blue? No one will remember him.

THRASH: Vince, I think that’s a police officer. (VINCE hops forward dragging THRASH.) Hey, stop! Vince! There’s a squirrel.

VINCE: Don’t worry, we won’t hit it.

(VINCE collides with the squirrel before stopping; THRASH skids into the police car.)

POLICEMAN: (getting out of his cruiser.) The both of you have a lot of explaining to do.

VINCE: (crying.) I’m so sorry, officer. I never meant to hurt a squirrel. I just wanted to be infamous for murder.

POLICEMAN: Are either of you currently employed?

VINCE and THRASH: We’re artists!

POLICEMAN: But how do you support yourselves?

VINCE: I’m a substitute teacher for cats.

THRASH: I count bones at the landfill.

POLICEMAN: I don’t think those are real jobs.

VINCE: Well, they don’t strictly pay us.

THRASH: It’s more of a hobby.

VINCE: I think of myself as an intern.

THRASH: Freelance. Here’s my card.

(THRASH hands him his business card.)

POLICEMAN: I’m taking both of you in.

VINCE: Will you tell the other cops about us?

THRASH: We want them to remember our names.

POLICEMAN: I’m sure they will never forget them.

*

THE END

© Ben Ditmars 2014