Suicide Pact

SUICIDE PACT

CHARACTERS

VINCE
THRASH

SETTING
A small apartment with a broken television.

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Image Source: Flickr

(VINCE sits next to THRASH on the floor. They flip through bills, most with FINAL NOTICE written on them.)

VINCE: Thrash, we’re never gonna make it as artists.

THRASH: Don’t say that, man. I think my sculpting will really take off.

VINCE: No one sculpts, Thrash and no one’s gonna read my poetry.

THRASH: We just gotta keep at it.

VINCE: You said that six years ago when we moved to New York.

THRASH: It’s still true.

VINCE: It isn’t Thrash. No one ever lives to see themselves famous.

THRASH: So what do you suggest? Suicide?

VINCE: Yes, actually.

(THRASH gets out his cell-phone.)

What are you doing?

THRASH: I’m calling the hotline. You’re talking to them.

VINCE: No, I’m not. Think about it, Thrash. Every famous artist killed themselves before making it big.

THRASH: Edgar Allen Poe didn’t.

VINCE: He drank himself to death. Same difference.

THRASH: (putting away cell-phone.) So, we kill ourselves?

VINCE: Yes, but the death has to be memorable.

THRASH: We could do a bunch of drugs.

VINCE: Can’t afford it.

THRASH: Stick our heads in the oven?

VINCE: Sylvia Plath already did it. We don’t wanna be posers.

THRASH: (indignant.) Well, I’ve listed two. Why don’t you suggest something?

VINCE: I could brick you into a wall.

THRASH: Come, on! That was Poe’s short story. And you accuse me of being unoriginal?

VINCE: Okay, I’ve got it. We lie down in the middle of the road and wait for a truck.

THRASH: Won’t that hurt?

VINCE: Not very long.

(Pause.)

THRASH: What if we eat each other?

VINCE: It could work.

THRASH: The whole art world will be talking about those two roommates who ate each other.

VINCE: And of course they’ll want to buy our sculptures and poetry. We’ll be novelties.

THRASH: Who goes first?

VINCE: I’ll start on your leg. (He goes toward a drawer in the kitchen.) It should be the most appetizing part.

THRASH: I think I should start eating you first.

VINCE: (closing drawer.) Why’s that?

THRASH: You’re a lot fatter.

VINCE: Screw that, you got ten pounds on me.

THRASH: We’ll never decide who eats the other. Let’s flip a coin.

VINCE: I’ve got a better idea.

THRASH: What?

VINCE: Let’s go on a killing spree. That way we live and other people die.

THRASH: But no one remembered Manson for his music.

VINCE: They still remembered him.

THRASH: I won’t look good with a swastika carved into my forehead.

VINCE: I’ll do it for you. My geometry teacher always liked the way I drew lines.

THRASH: Okay, let’s do this.

VINCE: I’ll get the car.

THRASH: It doesn’t run.

VINCE: Shoelace express?

THRASH: No way. We’re doing this rampage on roller skates.

THRASH: That’s dope.

THE END

© Ben Ditmars 2014

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