INT – THEATRE – EVENING

BRODY GILCREST, portly, middle aged Brit with dark hair, sits at a wooden table backstage, sipping tea. Across from him, partially in shadows, THOMAS PRINE fiddles with something O.S.

BRODY

Isn’t that thing about ready, Thomas. My tea is cold, my patience is shot, and curtain call is in less than an hour.

PRINE sticks his head out of the shadows. He’s grinning broadly and his eyes sparkle.

PRINE

We’ll be ready, and it’s going to be spectacular – like the old days.

BRODY

Those days, I’m afraid, are far behind us. The turning over of new leaves often reveals nothing more than damp earth.

PRINE

You should try smiling. You used to smile quite a lot, as I recall.

BRODY harumphs and drains the last of his now tepid tea.

BRODY

So, Thomas, this … thing … of yours. You say it will bring down the house? Guaranteed? With the budget we’ve been provided, I’d be surprised to see more than a dry-ice fog and a few colored lights.

PRINE

I still have…contacts.

BRODY

Yes, old boy, but you aren’t to CONTACT them, don’t you see.

PRINE

Of course.

BRODY stares into the shadows and frowns.

BRODY

Should I be…concerned?

PRINE’s head sticks out of the shadows again, his grin even wider.

PRINE

Have I ever given you reason for concern?

A door opens O.S. Voices echo, two men, and a woman. The woman laughs.

BRODY

(rising) I’m glad you are all early. Thomas is making some last minute shifts in the special effects. Please…get ready.

BOBBY PRENTISS, young, dark haired with a cocky grin saunters onto the stage. He’s dressed in black leather, a motorcycle jacket with a patch on the sleeve that says BRONZE ANGELS. Beside him, GINGER BUCHANAN, early twenties, petite in skintight jeans and a tube top totters on too-tall heels. Behind them, JIM JENKINS, mid forties with a paunch steps onto the stage. He’s dressed in a police officer’s uniform.

PRINE

I love cops and robbers.

BRODY

Just get that thing working. We now have less than twenty minutes.

GINGER

Could…could we run through it one time?

BRODY sees the girl’s nervousness.

BRODY

Quickly then. Bobby, center stage with Ginger.

PRINE

Uh…

BRODY

What is it? We’re just doing a test run.

PRINE

Yes but…

BRODY

Speak up!

PRINE

Nothing.

PRINE returns to his tinkering and the actor’s take their places. Bobby stands, hands in pockets in a perfect James Dean slouch. Ginger stands in front of him, glancing over her shoulder nervously.

BRODY

Action.

BOBBY

So…you’re gonna go back to Daddy, play the good girl, screw ol’ Joey huh?

GINGER

You know I love you, Joey, but.

BOBBY

I know…I’m bad. Always been bad, always will be. Can’t blame you for cutting out.

GINGER

(starts to turn away) I…

BOBBY steps forward and wraps her in his arms. She pulls back, and then, as if unable to resist, flutters her eyelids and turns back.

BOBBY

I don’t want you to go, baby.

BRODY waves at Prine in the shadows.

O.S. a police siren wails. Tires screech. A door slams. JENKINS steps onto the stage. He’s wearing an odd, futuristic helmet, and holding a strange gun leveled at BOBBY.

BRODY

What the…

BOBBY lets go of GINGER, obviously confused. He reaches to his belt, as if going for a gun, or a knife.

BOBBY

You’ll never take me, John Law.

BRODY starts to rise and move forward.

PRINE

You might want to say cut before…

JENKINS grins evilly. His eyes are wide, and he points the strange gun straight at BOBBY’s heart.

JENKINS

Name’s jot John, scumbag. Names Alexander. Alexander Hughes, and…as a matter of fact, I am the law.

BRODY turns to PRINE, eyes wide.

PRINE

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I changed the line.

BRODY turns back as JENKINS pulls the trigger. There’s a a flash of brilliant blue light. What appears to be lightning snaps across the stage and bursts through BOBBY’s chest, continuing on through curtains and walls. JENKINS stares at the gun, then lets it fall from his hand and staggers back. GINGER faints.

BRODY

(calmly) Thomas…what have you done?

PRINE

Cool, huh? I made it out of spare parts.

There is the sound of falling debris, and a horrible creak from the ceiling above. Both men look up.

PRINE (CONT’D)

I suggest that – perhaps – we should run?

BRODY

I think I need to explain the word retirement to you in clearer terms.

BRODY and PRINE run for the back exit. As the building begins to fall down around them, crushing the actors and the stage, PRINE begins to laugh.

PRINE

I TOLD you to say cut.

BRODY

Next time be clear.

PRINE

Be fair, (diving through the rear door as the walls collapse) I DID bring the house down…

FADE OUT.