Boney Was A Warrior

(Here's another assignment from that class.)

(It is a rather small elevator in a government building. We do not know where or whats building it is, we just know it is a government building. A metal box, buttons on the inside, a five person limit, It is your typical claustrophobia inducing elevator.)

(Enter Filliburton)

Fill. Aar to find me ship I gots to go up, into the sky in a little metal box! Which number shall I press?

(Closes his eyes and randomly hits a button, the button for floor 57 lights up)

Fill. Whoa thar! This box be moving faster than I hoped!

(Filliburton watches the numbers light up one by one. The elevator stops, the light is at 7, the door opens and we see Jo standing outside scratching his head)

Jo. Going up bro?

Fill. I be going up lad, hop on in!

(Jo enters and and stands beside Filliburton, he presson the button for the thirty second floor)

Jo. So, bro... what are you doing here, man?

Fill. To find me ship lad. It be at the top o' this tower.

Jo. Rightous man, I'm here to see The Man. He owes me a favor.

(The elevator stops. It is the eighteenth floor. In walks Rollin, His jewelery making a clinking sound with every step. He looks at Filliburton and Jo and then without a word, he presses a button (floor 63) and stands beside Jo)

Jo. Dude, nice bling man!

Fill. Aar! You got more booty aroun' yer neck than I gots in me treasure chest.

Rollin. (Dismissively) Hmm... Yeah...

(They go up in silence. Rollin looks around at the other two people and decides to stare nonchalantly at the door of the elevator)

Jo. (to Rollin) Are you here to see The Man?

Rollin. No, I’m here for business..

Jo. True, true....

Fill. Beware the wind me mates! She be the finest lady one moment and then a nasty wench the other! I remember back when I was the captain of the Purple Maze with a parrot on me shoulder, I traveled the seven seas with me crew. They were the finest bunch of barnacle-bearded seamen mine eyes have ever witnessed...

Jo. (in endless delight) Dude, you said SEAMEN!

Rollin. (to himself) Wow, what a bunch of retards...

(The elevator stops again, it is now at the 21stth floor. Enter Ciaran carrying a violin case and a folder with staff paper in it)

Ciaran. (to no one in particular) going up.

(He presses the button for the 59th floor and moves into one of the corners of the elevator)

Fill. Ahoy lad, play your fiddle for us if you will...

Ciaran. I'm sorry sir, I am not prepared to perform right now.

Jo. Come on man, play for us. Bury us in your musical excellence.

Ciaran. No.

Jo. Why not? Do you think you're bettar than us dude?

Ciaran. Not really.

Jo. So what? Why wont you...

Rollin. (cutting in) Leave him alone. He doesn't want to play right now.

Ciaran. (to Rollin) Thank you.

(Rollin nods in acknowledgement)

(The elevator jolts to a stop between the 24th and the 25th floor. The lights blink for a second and an alarm starts ringing)

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Rollin. What the fuck?!?!

Jo. Whoa!

Fill. The ship is struck! Man the turrets! Arm yerselves scallywags!...

Ciaran. Calm down everybody. It's just a small problem. Somebody will come to help us within a few minutes.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Rollin. And how are you so sure of this?

Jo. (to Rollin) He's right bro, somebody has to come in a few minutes.

Rollin. They better. I don't have the time to be stuck in this damn elevator!

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Jo. (trying to change the flow of conversation, to Ciaran) So dude, what are you upto man? What brings you to these parts.

Ciaran. Business.

Jo. Thats cool man. I guess you like to hold on to your privacy. I'm here to see The Man. He owes me a favor.

Rollin. (to Jo) Does this "The Man" have a name?

Jo. He's The Man man. I guess that's his name.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Rollin. (getting agitated) That can't be his name!

Fill. I once knew a man with no name.

Rollin. Oh shut up!

Fill. We called him Boney. Boney was a warrior/A warrior and a Terrior.

Rollin. Oh good lord...

Fill. Boney fought the Russians/The Russians and the Prussians.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Rollin. Stop it!

Jo. Let him sing dude, I like it.

Fill. Moscow was a-blazing/And Boney was a-raging.

Rollin. You like that? That sounds like shit to me.

Fill. Boney went to Elba/Boney he came back again.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Jo. What's shit to you is good music to me.

Fill. Boney went to Waterloo/There he got his overthrow.

(Ciaran watches on as Jo and Rollin continue to argue over Filliburton's singing)

Rollin. (to Ciaran) Whatchu lookin' at?

Fill. Then they took him off again/Aboard the Billy Ruffian.
Ciaran. (looks down) Nothing.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Jo. Don't be pushing the little dude, he didn't do anything to you.

Fill. He went to Saint Helena/There he was a prisoner.

Rollin. (to Filliburton) What the fuck is wrong with you man? Stop singing!

Fill. Boney broke his heart and died/Away in Saint Helena.

Jo. Leave the poor dude alone, he's not well...

Fill. Give her the t'gan's'ls/It's a weary way to Baltimore.

Rollin. One more line and I'm gonna....

Fill. Drive her, Cap'n, drive her/And bust the chafing leather.

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Rollin. Thats it! (movong towards Filliburton) I'm going to kick his ass!

Jo. (steps between them) Stop!

Fill. (to Rollin) I'll skewer yer gizzards you lilly-livered bastard!

(You hear three gunshots. Filliburton, Jo and Rollin are on the floor in a pool of blood. Ciaran is still in the corner, his violin case open on the floor beside him, a gun in his hand. The alarm is still ringing.)

(RIIIIIIIING!...)

Ciaran. Assholes...

The Fish-lady's Slice of Pizza

(This was originally written for a Creative Writing class a few years back, I figured I would post it here for the sake of preservation.)

And in walked the fish-lady.

She was known amongst us gypsies because she would come in once or twice a week to talk to Maribella, the one eyed seer, my great-aunt. Ophelia, that was her name, was a very superstitious woman and she believed in omens and angels and black cats and rituals. She paid us with money and sometimes with fish.

Her hair lay like a dry mop on her head, dusty and forgotten in a closet, her jerry curls were no longer than my outstretched hands and her skin was tanned from the ferocious sun that beat down on her when she was out at sea. She was a fisher-woman, one of the few that existed.

As she waited for Maribella to come out from her quarters she went ahead and sat down at the table we had set up for Maribella. The table was at one of the corners of the building and for privacy we had it shielded with veils and thin curtains. The uninviting, cracked leather seat collected dust in it shadowed concrete nook. Ophelia just dusted the seat and sat down. It was not like she had to dust it as she was dirtier than the chair but I suppose she did it because of some conditioned behaviour that was forced into her as a child. "Say thank you if somebody gives you something." "Always keep your legs closed when you're sitting down."

Ophelia then dug into her bag and pulled out a little package wrapped in foil and tied with string. It looked like one of those little packages of food my grandmother used to make for me to take to school when i was in kindergarten, only back then we wrapped the food in banana leaves and not foil. Anyway, Ophelia pulled out this package from her bag and opened it out to reveal a slice of pizza. She smiled a little when she opened it, like a little child opening a birthday present. With that same happy expression she held up the slice of pizza and took a bite out of it. Her chewing was like that of one of those happy, pretty girls on the television set telling us to buy some expensive make up or something. She enjoyed chewing and tasting her pizza and looking at her made me hungry too, which is funny because the first thing I feel when Ophelia comes into the parlor is nausea, this wasn't because I disliked her or anything, it was just that the smell of fish was so strong.

As she set her slice of pizza down to take a look around a huge rat jumped up n the table and tried to steal her food. Big rats aren't uncommon in these parts as we live in one of the poorer parts of Aveiro, Portugal. Perched heavily on the tinfoil of her all too short lunch, he scampered away with what seemed like some sort of pride as Ophelia shoo-ed it away. She looked rather sad for a second as she stared down at her slice of pizza which was defiled by a hungry rat.

To my horror and utter disgust, she lifted up the slice and brought it close to her face, thankfully she just took a whiff of it and threw it into the garbage can that was next to the table. She turned towards me and smiled a small tired looking smile, shrugged and said, "Maktub."