The first dark of an evening late in August.

A two-storey corner building can be seen on a street in New Orleans which is named Elysian Fields and runs between the L & N tracks and the river. The dimming daylight is unable to penetrate through the garish green curtain and into the room. A grim desperation hangs over the first area as it is dimly lit by a naked bulb, revealing the gaudy and decaying nature of the furniture. Along the furthermost wall of the room is a shoddy wooden cabinet, graced with glassware half-empty with a variety of liquor, the dominating feature of the room. The second room is clustered with furniture, gathered around a clawfoot rounded table. Half-empty bottles and the remains of passion fruit litter nailed securely in place and a radio sits perched on top of a discoloured refrigerator. The city outside seeps into the apartment as the metropolitan noises penetrate the open window with a diverse range of voices distinguished from outside, bartering and chatting. [Three men in their prime, STANLEY, STEVE and PABLO, are in the room. STANLEY is wearing an army-green shirt, feet firmly planted on the ground with a deck of cards in his right hand. The other is clasped into a fist whilst he stares at the aged, tired clock on the wall with a brooding impatience. STEVE and PABLO are at the opposite end of the table drinking. A knock comes to the door and STANLEY abruptly springs up, crossing the apartment to the front room. Two men are standing in the doorway; one is MITCH, a large man in size to match his clumsy and awkward demeanour. He is fidgeting as he waits to be invited in by STANLEY and seems flustered, aware of his lateness. Beside him is TOM, a man of average height and slightly, skinny body although his stance exudes confidence and grace. TOM is dressed in a striped blue and white shirt with a worn-out coat over it, a rainbow-coloured scarf peeking out from his pocket. The scarf catches STANLEYs attention, his eyes fixed steadily on it before he slowly brings his gaze to MITCH] STANLEY: What kept ya so long then? Huh? MITCH: Cmon, you know Ive got a sickSTANLEY [Shooting up]: -And whos this you brung with you then? [STANLEY crosses the room and stands in front of TOM] TOM: Im Tom, Im staying withSTANLEY: -Brought money? TOM [bewildered]: Wha-? I- Not much, I dont reallyCentre Number: 71845 Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

STANLEY: Jus hurry up. Sit down. [TOM dusts off his coat and neatly hangs it over the chair while STANLEY fiercely stares at him.] STEVE [chuckling]: So, uh, you in or not? TOM: Yep, definitely.
1

[STANLEY begins to deal, still aggressively staring at TOM across the table.] STANLEY [sneeringly]: The game is Follow the Queen. [A silence falls over the men as they receive their hands. TOM meticulously arranges his cards, shuffling them round in one hand with the dexterity of a magician and holds them close to his chest. STANLEY resumes staring at TOM while shuffling his cards, slowing taking a sip of beer before reluctantly swallowing it.] MITCH [standing up]: Im turnin on the radio. [Jazz music begins to play as Take the A train sounds from the radio. STANLEYs gaze doesnt move from TOM and he starts to become quite uneasy, shifting awkwardly in his seat and singing under his breath to calm himself.] TOM: Hurry, get on, now its coming, Listen to those rails a-humming

PABLO: Garbage. Im out. STEVE [aggravated]: Youre always out. Im in. PABLO [irritated]: Im always out because I always get dealt garbage. [PABLO gets up from the table and trudges to the refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of Blatz beer.] MITCH: Yeah, Im out too. Mas not doin too well, again. STANLEY: Shut up. MITCH: Im serious. Shes gonna be gone soon an Im out with you lot till all hours! Its not qqqqqqright. STANLEY: Leave then. Take your buddy with you. MITCH: I needa beer.
Centre Number: 71845 Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

PABLO: Tom, yo want one? TOM: Yes, thanks. Oh and, um, Im in. [PABLO thrusts the bottle into TOMs chest.] STANLEY: Ante in, cards down. [TOM reveals a queen of diamonds and a two of hearts. STANLEY slams his cards on the table with2an unkind smirk exposing a king of clubs and a jack of clubs. STANLEYs resentment does not go unnoticed by TOM as he pushes his chair back.] STANLEY: Where do you think youre going? TOM: Im going for a smoke. STANLEY: Bets are in. Theres no leavin. MITCH: Leave him be. He needs a smoke, let him smoke. [STANLEY picks up his bottle and drains the rest of it into his mouth. Quickly, he snatches another one from the table, breathing heavily and staring viciously at TOM as he goes outside to smoke on the fireescape.] TOM: Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, but these men are something else. Its 1949 in New qqqqqOrleans; I fail to see how I can fit in. Lifes exactly how it was back in that quaint qqqqqperiod, the thirties, except for where I am now, without my family. The people here qqqqqwork in factories; they spend their lives believing they are free when they are really qqqqqnothing more than pawns in the corporate army. They just dont see it. Their eyes qqqqqhave failed them; blinded they are. qqqqqThese men are prime examples; they try to assert their dominance to each other qqqqqrather than breaking free from the leash that they wear around their necks, qqqqqobstructing them from the truth that theyre going down with a sinking ship as the qqqqqeconomy slowly crumbles around them. qqqqqThese are the social conditions which I am subjected to. qqqqqI am the black sheep of these men, but I have a fresh pair of eyes to look upon their qqqqqunruly social habits and their brash surroundings, the things that they have become qqqqqused to and have overlooked, I have observed with a hawks eye. The one painting in qqqqqthe apartment which hangs over the sink reminds me of what these men are- dogs qqqqqand nothing more.
Centre Number: 71845 Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

STEVE: Hey Mitch, theres something off about this guy! MITCH: Awh, lay off! PABLO: He seems a little particular is all. What do you think Stanley? STANLEY: The only way well get along is when Ive stuck a wrench down his throat! MITCH: Go on Stanley. Say it louder. Dont think he heard ya!
3 STANLEY [raising his voice]: Its ma house, Ill say what I like.

[Stanley bolts up and slams a fist down on the table, clearly outraged by MITCH binging TOM to the poker game. Bottles on the table wobble and spill onto their sides, beer flows out and seeps in between the cracks in the grey, warped floorboard. The smash of a bottle is heard as STANLEYs gaze fixes on MITCH.] STANLEY: Now Mitch. Thas once in my house yo havent respected me. It wont happen again. MITCH [backing off]: Awh Stanley. Im just trying to be nice to the man! STANLEY: You can be nice all you want. See where it gets you! [A silence falls over the men as the sound of a locomotive whistle is heard in the distance. STANLEY crosses through the curtain and can be seen removing glass-ware from a battered wooden cabinet. He pours himself a tall glass of whiskey and drinks it, he then tips the bottle as liquor flows into the glass again and returns to sit down, taking the bottle with him. The Coolidge painting lights up. The music on the radio changes to Rum and Coca-Cola] PABLO: Do ya not think youve had a bit much to drink already? STANLEY: Im fine. STEVE: Give us that. Youre done. [STEVE reaches for the whiskey but STANLEYs fumbling hand reaches it first. STANLEY grabs STEVEs arm and forces him over the table. His glare fixes onto STEVEs eyes as he drags him in close. STANLEY [grimly to STEVE]: Im fine. [He lets him go and STEVE slowly sinks back into his chair, taking another sip of beer. TOM finds his way back into the room and
Centre Number: 71845 Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

retakes his seat at the table perched attentively as he waits for the game to resume. He takes the rainbow-coloured handkerchief from his pocket with a flourish and wipes the top of the bottle. STANLEY follows his every move with a frighteningly belligerent look before grinning and picking up his hand.] STANLEY: Aces high. Raise twenty. TOM: Okay, call. STEVE: Twenty call. STANLEY: Raise eighty.
4

PABLO: Stanley, you think thats a good idea? Yo got a baby now, remember. STEVE: Well, am out. STANLEY [snarling]: I know what Im doing. TOM: Yep, call. [STANLEY grins as he lays his cards down on the table.] STANLEY [smugly]: Two of a kind. [He reaches for the money on the table but is interrupted by TOM.] TOM: Hold on! Straight? [TOM gently places his cards on the table, one at a time to reveal his hand. The rest of the men look from STANLEY to TOM, becoming gradually more concerned as TOM reaches for the money without STANLEY moving his hands. The locomotive is heard passing outside. The headlight of the locomotive glares into the room as it thunders past. TOM jumps and his hands touch STANLEYs.] STANLEY [standing up, shouting]: CHEAT. Get your hands off me! [STANLEY swings at TOM and tackles him over the table and onto the beer-soaked ground. We hear numerous screams from TOM and fighting noises before STEVE and PABLO run through the curtain. Struggling is heard and STEVE and PABLO come back through the curtain with STANLEY restrained. MITCH begins to clear the bottles from the sink and STANLEYs head is placed in it, the water is turned on as STANLEY tries to flail his way free. The painting over the sink lights up.
Centre Number: 71845 Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

PABLO [to MITCH]: Mitch, I think you needa take that man outta here. NOW! [MITCH hurriedly ushers a panting TOM out of the apartment. STANLEY can be heard trying to speak as the men raise his head out of the dull, lifeless sink.] STANLEY [aggravated]: No one disrespects me in my own home! He cheated me! STEVE: We know buddy. [STEVE pats STANLEY on the back] PABLO: Its just the cards youre dealt, Stanley. [The men drag STANLEY over to his chair and prop him up on the table.] STEVE: Youre all right now.
5

[A woman, STELLA, walks into the kitchen, wearing a baby blue silk summer dress, she looks physically exhausted as she stands over the curtain which now lies on the ground, ripped down during the brawl. She is carrying a child in her arms, wrapped in an ivory green blanket. STELLA looks around herself, ghostly white.] STELLA [mortified]: Not again, Stanley not again. [A shrill ring is heard, Stella drags to the beaten, dusty phone to answer it] AMANDA: Stella Kowalski? This is Amanda Winfield! Terribly sorry to bother you at this qqqqqhour! Heavens, I hope I havent interrupted anything? Well, I was just ringing to let qqqqqyou know that a dear, dear friend of yours has recommended you for a subscription qqqqqto the Companion! What do you think about that, honey? STELLA [shakily]: No. No, thank you. Bye. [STELLA gently puts down the phone and enters back into the kitchen, turning the radio off just as Rum and Coca-Cola finishes]

WORD COUNT: 1,845

Centre Number: 71845

Candidate Name: Ross Frazer Candidate Number: 6153

6 6