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Written by Sean Pomposello
Sean Pomposello 26 Garthwaite Terrace Maplewood, NJ 07040 firstname.lastname@example.org Home: 973-762-7680 Cell: 917-837-7368
BITCH By Sean Pomposello
CHARACTERS: JUNIE: Late thirties. MITTS: His brother. Early thirties. DAVY DOLLAR$: Their adopted Asian brother. Late twenties. UNCLE KNEE CO.: Their uncle. Fifties. GIL: Bookkeeper with a serious stutter. Early thirties. PLACE: Morris Park. The Bronx, NY. TIME: The Present. SETTING: All scenes occur in the front office of the Debenedetto Auto Salvage yard, with the exception of scene four which takes place in a hotel room and scene seven which takes place in the box of a dog fighting match.
Scene Three (The office, the next day. At rise, Mitts enters with Uncle Knee Co. who is dressed in a velour track suit, sports a cervical collar and carries a doctor’s bag.) (Junie has his feet up on the desk and is scrubbing sparkplugs with a wire brush.) UNCLE KNEE CO. ... Hold on a second...I forget the punchline. Oh, okay, I got it. “Yeah,” says the Scottsman, “but at least I don’t got a scented hand soap named after me!” MITTS Oh, that’s a good one, Uncle Knee Co. UNCLE KNEE CO. Like that? Got a million a them. (Suddenly studies Mitts’ face.) What’s that on your lip? MITTS I don’t know, whiskers? Little unshaven, I guess. UNCLE KNEE CO. Lemme spread little milk on there, let a kitty cat lick it off. (Uncle Knee Co. and Mitts laugh.) Uncle Knee Co? Hey, sfachime. Good to see you, man. You too, son. Coffee? Milk first. Junie? JUNIE UNCLE KNEE CO. JUNIE UNCLE KNEE CO. MITTS UNCLE KNEE CO. MITTS
(Junie shakes no. Mitts crosses to an old dented percolator, pours out and begins fixing the coffee.) UNCLE KNEE CO. C’mere to me. Lemme get a look at you. (Junie and Uncle Knee Co. hug awkwardly.) Look at the size a you. UNCLE KNEE CO.
JUNIE Guess I grew up some, huh? Up and out you did. UNCLE KNEE CO.
JUNIE Suppose I could stand to lose a few. UNCLE KNEE CO. Bellafatta side put on weight, what you gonna do? They do, huh? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. You should see the ass on your Uncle Lenny. Heavy? Whole lotta ass fat. How’s he doing? JUNIE UNCLE KNEE CO. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. A dime at Leavenworth, that’s what he’s doin’. Oh, I didn’t know. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. Visit him often as I can, bring him the Sfogliatella he like. (Mitts returns with Uncle Knee Co.’s coffee.)
MITTS Here you go, Uncle Knee Co. UNCLE KNEE CO. And, lookit all that lovely hair a yours, huh. JUNIE It’s how we wear it these days, I suppose. UNCLE KNEE CO. I wouldn’t know. (Beat.) Fellas, I don’t think I have to tell you bout the hair I had cross my ass for yous two. Not telling me when your folks died in that pile up. We wanted to. MITTS
JUNIE We did. But, Dad said never call any a you. Not about anything. UNCLE KNEE CO. Imagine havin’ to hear from Chippy’s husband that your own brother and my sister-in-law was dead? MITTS Sorry bout that, Uncle Knee Co. UNCLE KNEE CO. Well, anyway, I was never much for holding grudges. I forgive you boys. You was just doing what you was told. MITTS Good having you back, though. UNCLE KNEE CO. Where’s the yellow menace? Davy Dollar$. MITTS
JUNIE He’s got a tow on the Mosholu. UNCLE KNEE CO. (regarding his coffee) Ho...ho... hold on. This ain’t milk first. Huh? MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. Did I not just say milk first?
MITTS Yeah, I poured the milk first. UNCLE KNEE CO. Doan bullshit a bullshitter. Thought I did, anyway. Well you didn’t. How you know? MITTS UNCLE KNEE CO. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. No froth. Milk first, you get froth. No milk first, you get a cup a shit. Sorry. MITTS (Gil enters, totting a briefcase.) GIL (to Junie) Oh, I didn’t know he was going to be here. MITTS This is where I work, sweetheart. JUNIE Would you two stop, already? GIL (to Junie) I’m on my way to the post office, just need you to sign the returns first. (She lays out forms on the desk and Junie begins signing.) Boys? UNCLE KNEE CO.
JUNIE Oh, Gil: This is our Uncle Knee Co. Uncle Knee Co., this is Gil. She does our books. And busts our balls. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. That ain’t how your father raised you to speak in front a ladys, Mittsy. That one ain’t no lady. MITTS
GIL Don’t start with me, Mmmmmmmits. (Mitts laughs as Junie returns the forms to Gil. She prepares to leave.) What did I tell you? JUNIE
MITTS I been meaning to axe you, Junie. She stutter when you give it to her in bed. (Junie lunges at Mitts, shoving him to the floor. He then grabs him by the collar and shakes him.) I warned you, didn’t I? Fuck you, Mitts. MITTS GIL (Gil exits angrily as Junie and Mitts continue fighting.) UNCLE KNEE CO. Knock off the rough housing. (Uncle Knee Co. effortlessly flings Junie off of Mitts. After a long beat, Uncle Knee Co. lightens things.) UNCLE KNEE CO. She’s not bad to look at, but is there something a little wrong with her? JUNIE She got a stutter. Jesus. What is it with everyone? Touchy. UNCLE KNEE CO.
MITTS He’s chipping on Diane with her.
UNCLE KNEE CO. Well, that explains it, don’t it? Mitts, enough. Alright? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. I’ve been meaning to ask you, Mitts. How come you talk like a melanzana. JUNIE Thank you. That’s what I’ve been telling him. UNCLE KNEE CO. Okay, change the subject, huh boys? I like what you done with your dad’s yard. Yeah, huh? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Your old man, God rest his soul, was a saint. Didn’t care much for yours truly, that’s for damn sure, but one-of-akind. Everybody like Pop. JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Stuff he done over at St. Clare’s. For the parish there and all. Taking in the little chink a yours. Covering our folks’ funeral expenses. Must a put him in a pinch, huh? No, he was solid. A real prince. MITTS Tough to get along with if you was his son-UNCLE KNEE CO. Don’t speak ill a the dead! No, I’s just saying-MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. But, he’d be proud a what you done here. Guess you ain’t making nothing here though, huh? Makes you think that? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. For starters, the dog you got chained to the fence out back.
MITTS Uncle Knee Co. just give Hillary little check-up. JUNIE Reminds me, you pick all the dog shit up yet? MITTS Few a the bigger, more obvious chunks. Not the outta the way ones. JUNIE Get all of it. Go out get it all up. UNCLE KNEE CO. Can’t help you there my friend. I got a no caca clause in my contract. MITTS C’mon, ma’an. I got most a it. JUNIE We’re running a salvage yard here, not a shit-ass dog shelter. Put Davy back on poop detail if you hafta. MITTS He ain’t gonna be able to get all a it. I think Hillary got the squirts. UNCLE KNEE CO. It’s the hot pepper and gun powder we feeding her. Keeps her pissed off. MITTS That your secret recipe? UNCLE KNEE CO. Lookit! How many times I hafta tell you? You don’t see Colonel Sanders divulging his fried chicken secrets to Uncle Ben and Aunt Jamima, my right? Same goes for me. MITTS So, tell Junie what you tole me about Hillary. What? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. We got ourselves a good little earner out back. MITTS Hear that, Junie? Got ourselves a good little earner.
JUNIE I’m standing right here. I heard. UNCLE KNEE CO. Take a look (he hands Junie a magazine). Back issue a Sporting Dog Journal. Thought she looked familiar. JUNIE (sees Hillary in the magazine) Ohmygod, Hillary. UNCLE KNEE CO. Not a lotta blues on the circuit. MITTS She takes a good picture, don’t she? UNCLE KNEE CO. Comes from a pretty good line, too. What luck, right? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Real luck was gettin’ her when yas did. Someone else footin’ the upkeep, feed, vaccinations, and all. Save you maybe, I don’t know, two thou, easy. That’s fourteen K in dog money. (Laughs.) MITTS So, Hillary’s ready to fight then? End a her keep, yeah. Keep? UNCLE KNEE CO. JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Training. My dogs always do an eight week keep. Two weeks prekeep, then six more for conditioning. Boom, ready for the box. MITTS So, whaddaya think of our chances here? UNCLE KNEE CO. I think we got ourselves a winner with this animal. MITTS Hear that, Junie? She’s a winner--
UNCLE KNEE CO. But, we doan know nothing til we know where her heart is at. And won’t know that til we give her a roll or two. (Off Junie and Mitts’ blank stares.) Let her hit couple dogs as a tune up. I know this guy off the Grand Concourse. He gimme maybe five minutes on a baiter a his. But, s’gonna cost us a couple beans. Baiter? Bait dog? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Boxer mix he took off a some Starbucks sippin’ Union Square hard on. Worthless piece a shit dog in a LL Bean sweater. Guy’s thinkin’ a trunkin’ it. MITTS Ever heard about this, Junie? Uh-uh. JUNIE
MITTS Put two dogs in the truck of a car, lock the shit, go for little ride, the dog what crawls out at the end a the drive’s the winner. Right. UNCLE KNEE CO.
JUNIE Sounds fuckin’ disgusting. UNCLE KNEE CO. Lotta money in disgusting acts, sfachime. MITTS When you think we could start getting some a that money. UNCLE KNEE CO. Always money... money... money with this one. Like how you think. MITTS Got the wolf at the door, Uncle Knee Co. UNCLE KNEE CO. I’ve been there myself, son. JUNIE Owes quite a chunk a change.
UNCLE KNEE CO. Well, like I say. First, we roll her. She got gameness, can take little punishment, is good as I think, then we forget about going off-the-chain, I’ll pull a few strings and get her on the pro circuit. MITTS That’s where the real money’s at, Junie. JUNIE Hey. Hold on. Hear that? I don’t hear nothing. MITTS
JUNIE ‘S what I mean. That thing ain’t barking no more. UNCLE KNEE CO. Oh, I give her a shot a Telatol. Knock her out, y’know. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. So’s we could sharpen her teeth with my drum sander. (He takes his sander out of his bag and guns it.) Jeez. JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Lookit, every other dog have his teeth sharpened. Got a level the playing field there, sfachime. It ain’t cruel, Junie. You don’t think? MITTS JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Listen, dogs fight all the time. Cruelty is taking their nature away from them. Be like making it illegal for dogs to eat grass, barf on the carpet and eat it again. MITTS Barf and eat it again, that’s good. I seen that. UNCLE KNEE CO. Gotta remember, dogs don’t got no soul--not the way people do.
Animals aren’t people, don’t experience human emotion and they sure as shit ain’t our friends. Man’s best friend, fuck that shit. JUNIE Obviously you didn’t watch a lotta Lassie when you’s a kid. UNCLE KNEE CO. Here. Prove it to you. I can make your dog... She’s not my dog. JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Or Mitsy’s. Whatever. I can make that bitch out back my dog with nothing more than 10 minutes and a piece a fuckin’ porterhouse. You think? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Listen, huh? Would anyone be concerned about a cockroach fight? Why’s a dog fight any different? MITTS And if you gonna have ‘em fight, why not make them the best they can be. Which is why, get this, this is classic, can’t believe they do this shit. Uncle Knee Co. put Hillary on a run. A run? H-G-H. P-E-D. JUNIE UNCLE KNEE CO. MITTS
UNCLE KNEE CO. (singing) M-O-U-S-E. (Bursts out laughing.) Steroids? JUNIE
MITTS And assorted other drugs. UNCLE KNEE CO. Got her on everything but roller skates.
Don’t gimme that look.
JUNIE Seriously, don’t it seem a little much? MITTS C’mon, imagine if the Mets juiced like the Yanks in 2000 Subway Series. UNCLE KNEE CO. Think a all the other dogs Hillary be fighting as Clemens... Pettitte... Stanton... MITTS Justice... uh, Knoblauch... UNCLE KNEE CO. Neagle... Grimsley... List goes on. JUNIE Whatshisface, the other Bash Brother... Canseco. UNCLE KNEE CO.
MITTS Hillary tangle with that big sweaty spic, you know you want her juiced to the goddamn gills. (Uncle Knee Co. and Mitts erupt in laughter.) UNCLE KNEE CO. Reminds me, guy at the Y gimme them drugs on the cuff. MITTS You know, that gym’s a joke. Got fifteen primo handicap spots right out front a the place. It’s a gym! What’s a crippled motherfucker doing pumping iron? What’d it go for? JUNIE
UNCLE KNEE CO. Gimme, let’s say, three. Covers it and the business with the boxer. Hundred? Cents. What you think? JUNIE UNCLE KNEE CO.
MITTS Oh, plus I’m a take some for gas. JUNIE That can’t be outta pocket expenses? UNCLE KNEE CO. Don’t go for his lungs, Mittsy. MITTS It’s like $3.00 a gallon at the pump. UNCLE KNEE CO. And milk’s, what? $3.25 a gallon. You don’t hear pussy cats and toddlers complaining. (Mitts goes to get the cash from the spot behind Ole Blue Eyes.) JUNIE Dog’s gonna land me in the poorhouse. (Confidentially, to Mitts.) Not in front a-MITTS Kidding me? He’s one a us. Yeah, right. One a us. JUNIE (Blackout.)
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