I published two short plays last year involving wannabe outlaws Vince and Thrash. They usually try to break the law and become infamous in the process. It never quite works out and last time we saw them they were arrested for domestic disturbance. This is the next chapter in their saga: Prison Pact.
County jail cell with a bed and toilet.
(VINCE sits on the toilet holding a Pogo stick.)
VINCE: We’ve done it now, Thrash. It’s the Green Mile for us.
POLICEMAN: You’re not in prison. It’s a jail cell.
VINCE: Won’t be long now.
THRASH: Do you think we get a last meal?
VINCE: Hopefully, it’s something sweet like the outside air.
THRASH: The sweet air of freedom. Heavenly, ain’t it boss?
POLICEMAN: You’ve been in here less than an hour for domestic disturbance.
VINCE: But it feels like years weighed heavy on my soul.
THRASH: Sinner’s never prosper, mama used to say.
VINCE: And we’re the sinners, never prospered.
THRASH: Amen, Vince.
(Vince starts playing harmonica.)
POLICEMAN: Where on earth did you get a harmonica? I searched you before you went in.
VINCE: It’s just something us lifers take to.
THRASH: I’m starting to feel old, Vince.
VINCE: Do you think we should join the Aryan nation? Or convert to Islam?
THRASH: I don’t know. We could ask that gentleman on the bed.
VINCE: He looks deep in contemplation.
POLICEMAN: He was arrested for drunk driving. He’s passed out drunk.
VINCE: Or he’s slowly using a rock hammer to bust out.
POLICEMAN: By the time he wakes up, he’ll want to use a hammer on his own head.
THRASH: I think we could bust out.
VINCE: It could work. We didn’t make it as famous artists or murderers.
THRASH: Unless, you count that squirrel.
VINCE: We will send his mother acorns after we break out.
THRASH: But, how? The bastille is impenetrable.
VINCE: I learned some tricks watching Mythbusters. We casually ask the guard for some salsa and BAM! In five to twelve years, we’re through the wall.
POLICEMAN: I can hear you plotting. Perhaps you could talk quieter?
THRASH: No thank you. We want this breakout to be infamous.
VINCE: You’ll have the honor of telling our story.
Policeman: Oh, Lord.
(Policeman stands up.)
Maybe I should check on you two.
(Policeman approaches to find two mannequins and an empty jar of salsa.)
© Ben Ditmars 2015