Hunter Tremayne

Time: 2pm.

Place: The living room of an eighteenth-century stone farmhouse.  There is a fireplace to stage right.  Beside the fireplace is a chair.  A door to stage left.

At Rise: DAVID (16), sits in the chair reading a novel.  He is dressed in yellow loon pants, stars and stripes sweatshirt, platform shoes and a very broad-brimmed hat with leopard skin band.  He wears mascara and has black nail varnish on his left hand.  IAN (40s) enters from stage left, dressed in warm outdoor clothes that are covered in snow.  DAVID looks up from his book.

IAN

So what do you think?

DAVID

It's good.  When did you write it?

IAN

After I got married.  About 2000.

DAVID

Damn.  I thought I would write one earlier.  Like in my twenties.

IAN

Well, you got sidetracked.

DAVID

Did it sell well?

IAN

Not really.  20th century-Fox were talking about a movie, but it was just talk.

DAVID

Would make a great movie.

IAN

Yeah.

(beat)

I can't believe I used to dress like that.

DAVID

Fuck you; I look cool.

IAN

I've destroyed all the photos.  Glam rock.  Jesus!

DAVID

Don't you listen to the music any more?

IAN

Oh, I do, sometimes.  Not crap like Suzi Quatro and Mud, but I still love Mott the Hoople and the Ramones.

DAVID

Are they still going?

IAN

Nah.  Ian Hunter, he was the lead singer for Mott -

DAVID

(interrupting)

I know who fucking Ian Hunter is; I've got his picture on my fucking wall, man.

IAN

Yeah, well, he's still going strong.  Great couple of last albums.

DAVID

You see him play?

IAN

Sure.  Just a couple of years ago.

DAVID

A couple of years!  Fuckin' hell!

IAN

You see bands all the time, right?

DAVID

Every fuckin' night of the week!  T. Rex, Slade, Mott, Roxy...

IAN

I never did see Bowie play though.

DAVID

That's fuckin' depressing!

IAN

Or Lou Reed.

DAVID

You waster!

IAN

Yeah yeah.  Saw Iggy Pop though.  At the Rainbow.

DAVID

When?

IAN

Jesus, I don't know.

DAVID

Well, at least you got to see him.  So I guess I will too.

IAN

Yes, of course you will.

DAVID

How about my mates?

IAN

Like who?

DAVID

Like who?  Like Little Geoff and Big Geoff.

IAN

I still see Little Geoff.  He's on my Facebook.

DAVID

Face book?

IAN

Look, let's not go there, okay?  I'll have to start talking about the internet and stuff and I don't think I'm allowed to do that.

DAVID

Why not?

IAN

Because this is a dream, mate.  It's only a dream.

DAVID

But whose dream is it?  It might be mine.

(pause)

IAN

No, I don't think it can be.  You wouldn't be dreaming of the Internet.  Or my novel.

DAVID

My novel.

IAN

Our novel.

(pause)

DAVID

But it could be a prophetic dream.  Eh?  What about that?

IAN

(firmly)

I don't think so.

DAVID

So how about my poetry?

IAN

Yes, still write poetry.

(beat)

I don't remember the early stuff.

DAVID

How about "Alpha To Omega."

IAN

No..wait..vaguely.

DAVID leaps to his feet and begins declaiming with great passion.

DAVID

"Perpax cursed at Tantalon in the mauve beyond of Nevermore.  Dreaming, idly scheming, of things to come: all things he saw.  The stabbing, grabbing motion of a madman housed in fury.  A fantasia devoid of love, a manic -

IAN

(interrupting)

STOP IT!

DAVID

But it's fantastic!

IAN

Yeah.  I'm afraid it hasn't aged well.

DAVID

Neither have you.

IAN

Screw you.

DAVID

What are you, thirtyish?

IAN

Fortyish.

DAVID

Oh.  Ancient though, man, fuckin' ancient!

DAVID steps towards IAN and examines his face.

DAVID

Let's see your teeth.

IAN smiles.

DAVID

(in shock)

Dentures!

IAN

Nope.  Had them fixed when I moved to America.

DAVID

(excited)

You moved to America!  I want to move to America!

IAN

Well you will.

DAVID

Cool.  Very cool.

(beat)

You get married?

IAN

Yeah, I got married.

DAVID

Still?

IAN

Yup.

DAVID

Not to...

IAN

Who?

DAVID

To who?  To Jenny, man!  To Jenny!

IAN

Jenny who?

DAVID

(astonished)

Jenny who?  Jenny who?  Jenny fuckin' Agutter, man!

IAN

(laughing)

No, no, not to Jenny Agutter.

DAVID

Aw man!  Did you ever even -

IAN

I've never met her, mate.  I'm sorry.

DAVID

Oh man!

DAVID collapses into the chair, looking depressed.

IAN

I did date a girl who looked a lot like her though.

DAVID leaps to his feet in excitement.

DAVID

No shit?

IAN

No shit.

DAVID

What's her name?

(beat)

IAN

Won't that spoil the fun?

(beat)

DAVID

Yeah.  Yeah, I suppose it would.

(beat)

Others?

IAN

Others?

DAVID

Other GIRLS, man!

IAN

Oh, sure.

DAVID

(very pleased)

How many?

(beat)

Lots?

IAN

Erm...what would you call lots?

DAVID

I dunno...more than ten?

IAN

Oh God, yes.  It was the seventies and eighties.  There weren't any diseases then.

(beat)

Well, there were, but not like...not like now.  It was a terrible...

DAVID

(interrupting, excited)

More than twenty?

IAN

Oh.  Yes, more than twenty.

DAVID

More than thirty?

IAN

More than thirty is pushing it, I think.

DAVID

Man, thirty girls!

(beat)

Did they all look like Jenny Agutter?

IAN

No, mate.  I'm afraid not all of them looked like Jenny Agutter.

DAVID

Any Chinese?

IAN

There might be some stuff left in the fridge.

DAVID

No, man, girls!  Any Chinese girls?

IAN

No.

DAVID

Indian?

IAN

Indian Indian, like from India?

DAVID

Yeah!

IAN

Yes.

DAVID

Cool!

(beat)

American?

IAN

Yes.  Look, mate...

DAVID

Jewish?

IAN

Yes.  Look, can we...

DAVID

Swedish?

IAN

(forcefully)

That's enough!  Let's change the subject, okay?

DAVID

You didn't get a Swedish girl, then?

IAN

As a matter of fact, I didn't, but that's not the point.

DAVID

Girls are the point, man!

IAN

Well, you're seventeen.

DAVID

(grumpily)

Sixteen.

(beat)

I need a drink.  You got any booze here.

IAN

Sure.  What did you want?

DAVID

Rum and black.

IAN

Black?

DAVID

Blackcurrant.

IAN

I can't believe I used to drink that crap.

DAVID

That's a no then, is it?

IAN

Yeah, that's a no.

(pause)

DAVID

Got Southern Comfort?

IAN

Yep.  You want -

DAVID

(interrupting)

Got any Guinness?

IAN

Yes.

DAVID

Dry cider?

IAN

What?  Oh, no.

DAVID

Damn.

IAN

But I have hard cider.  It's pretty much the same thing.

DAVID

And you've got pint classes, eh?

IAN

Yes, sure.

DAVID

Then we can make a Thunderbuck Ram!

IAN

Holy crap!  Yes we can!

DAVID

I invented that drink!

IAN

You did!  Down the pub in South Ealing!  With...with Big Geoff and Little Geoff!

DAVID

Named it after the Mott the Hoople song!

IAN

Off the album "Mad Shadows!"

DAVID

What you do is...

IAN

(interrupting)

Don't tell me!  Let's see if I can remember.

(thinks hard)

Half a pint of Guinness at the bottom.  Fill up the rest with cider.  And then Southern Comfort...

DAVID

Yes....

IAN

Poured from a glass into the top!

DAVID

Yes!  That's it, man!  That's it!  You fuckin' remembered! That's fuckin' amazing!

IAN

Thunderbuck Ram!

DAVID

Thunderbuck Ram!

DAVID and IAN give each other a backslap.

CURTAIN

Copyright (c) 2008 by Hunter Tremayne/BuzzCraft Ltd. This play may not be performed without the wriiten permission on the playwright. This play is registered with the Writer's Guild of America (East).