CHARACTERS
Suzanne Aspera: Our Hero
Mimi: Suzanne’s ex-best friend
Andrea: Judas-type Teenybopper
Kit-Katatonic: Gender Fuck on Acid
The entire play takes place on a cross-town city bus.
Andrea: My summer was so amazing.
Mimi: Yeah, that’s good. Good.
Andrea: I went to third.
Mimi: Base?
Andrea: You know. (She holds two fingers together and licks between them).
Mimi: Wow.
Andrea: Yeah. It was intense. I think I had an Origasm.
Mimi: Uh, that’s nice.
Andrea: And you?
Mimi: Ok.
Andrea: You’re always so boring.
Mimi: uh … Cooper died.
Andrea: Cooper?
Mimi: Yeah.
Andrea: The kitten? I’m sorry.
Mimi: Uh huh.
Andrea: What happened?
Mimi: She dropped her catnip behind the radiator.
Andrea: Oh.
Mimi: And then she went after it.
Andrea: Uh huh.
Mimi: And her skull was too big to drop through.
Andrea: Her head?
Mimi: Yeah, she hung herself.
Andrea: That’s too bad.
Mimi: Yeah.
Andrea: How did you find her?
Mimi: It wasn’t difficult.
Andrea: What do you mean?
Mimi: Remember that early frost?
Andrea: In August?
Mimi: It dropped below 15 degrees.
Andrea: Yeah.
Mimi: I had my window open.
Andrea: So?
Mimi: The radiator went into overdrive. Oh god, the smell.
Andrea: Cooper cooked?
Mimi: Yeah.
Andrea: Hair.
Mimi: She must have made a jump from the sill to behind the radiator…and then the rest of her body fell through, if only her head wasn’t so big! When I found her the tongue was all dried up, a stale piece of chewing gum… I picked her up and it cracked off…like it was perforated.
Andrea: The head?
Mimi: Tongue.
Andrea: Shhhh! Shhhh! Here comes that Bimbo, Suzanne Aspera. You remember to play it cool, ok?
--Bus stop
Suzanne boom-baa-baas on the bus. Kit Kat gets on behind her.
Suzanne: (Primping her hair) Good morning!
Mimi: She looks doped. She’s talking to herself.
Andrea: Her pants barely cover her ankles.
Mimi: Water weight.
Andrea: Can you catch down syndrome? I think she’s on the wrong bus. The retard bus comes at 9:20.
Suzanne: I’m not autistic.
Mimi: Just ugly.
Suzanne: Takes one to know one, right? HA! Meems, its me.
Mimi: Who?
Suzanne: Suze.
Mimi: Soothes? What?
Suzanne: Suzanne Aspera.
Mimi: You’ve gotten fatter.
Andrea: Yeah. Much.
Suzanne: Check out my hair. Monique did it.
Mimi: Tell me your not living with that cosmozoologist.
Suzanne: Tologist.
Andrea: Whatever. She did that?
Mimi: Frightening.
Suzanne: Who’s your homeroom? I have your books
Mimi: Sorry?
Suzanne: VC Andrews. They were crazy.
Mimi: You can keep them.
Suzanne: Gee, really? Thanks! So, which homeroom?
Mimi: I don’t have one this year.
Suzanne: Everyone HAS one.
Andrea: Like assholes.
Mimi: Listen, Suzanne. You live with that mulatto woman and you’re father is a drunk.
Andrea: Right!
Suzanne: Mulatto?
Mimi: You heard me. My mother told me all about it.
Suzanne: What the fuck is this?
Andrea: Go on. Tell her.
Mimi: I can’t be seen engaging in heated conversation with a fat cow rocking feathered bangs and that 3 year old outfit. For Christ’s sake I’m 16 now and I’m trying to find a boyfriend. You’ve friggin’ got a banana-clip!
Andrea: What she’s trying to say is this: Everyone thinks you’re a cheap lezzy whore.
Suzanne: Oh. Is that all?
Mimi: Did you hear something?
Andrea: Not a peep.
Suzanne: I thought you were my friends.
Kit-Kat (butting in, wild eyed and on drugs): Damn, life may be a long dark corridor but you don’t have to be shitty. Come here, girl. Let’s go to the back of the bus.
Suzanne: Leave me alone. Don’t touch me.
Bus Driver (offstage voice): Hey you guys sit down back there. Move on back.
Andrea: Who’s your reject friend, Suzanne? You two make quite a couple.
Kit-Kat: Shut your hole, teenybopper. Wanna get cut?
Mimi: Ewww.
Suzanne: I don’t know him.
Kit-Kat (to Andrea): Don’t try to fuck with me, Glenda good witch snot face.
Suzanne: Relax, man. Are you OK?
Kit-Kat: I’m better than okay, baby. I’m Kit-Katatonic. Enchante!
Suzanne: Are you in a band?
Kit-Kat: A band of one. Touring a post-apocalyptic trance land. Sniffing vibrations -killing tragedy - living the lies inside my thighs, baby. Petit mortician est moi. Voulez vous matrice avec moi? Ce soir.
Suzanne: I don’t speak French.
Kit-Kat: Something’s missing from the mise-en-scene – the body and ass of Christ.
Suzanne: What is that. (reads) VCR head cleaner?
Kit-Kat: You’ll like it, I swear… it’ll clean your head.
Suzanne: But I’m not a VCR.
Kit-Kat: We are all VCRs, princess. Recording the panoply of horrors and playing it back for the innocents. Here, just take a sniff and I’ll fix your make up.
Suzanne: Oh, ok. *Cough* Uh. Oh. Umm. I just…uh, I pooped my pants. Omigod. I’m so embarrassed.
Kit-Kat: (sniffs popper) I don’t smell anything. Take another hit.
Suzanne: Wow. Ok. Uhm,
Kit-Kat: Ok, lets get started.
Suzanne: But, I just got a makeover?
Kit-Kat: Oh, Honey!
Suzanne: For the first day of school.
Kit-Kat: You’re kidding, right sweetie?
Suzanne: No - Dad’s girlfriend did it.
Kit-Kat: Who?
Suzanee: Monique…She won first place at the Barbizon cotillion.
Kit-Kat: Now it makes sense.
Suzanne: What?
Kit-Kat: My purpose. I’ll reclaim that prize.
Suzanne: Huh?
Kit-Kat: No offense but that tramp Monique ain’t got no vision.
Suzanee: You know her?
Kit-Kat: She was in my class. That girl’s so conservative. She your mother?
Suzanne: Step-mom…or, Dad’s girlfriend.
Kit-Kat: Figures. She can’t see the inner beauty ‘cuz there’s too much complicated relationshit goin’ on between y’all. I’ll do the correctivity.
Suzanne: Um…
Kit-Kat: (grabs her arm) I thought you wanted it to be different. I can help you. Don’t you understand?
Suzanne: Understand what?
Kit-Kat: That Monique is one of those girls who sit at the front of the bus and point fingers.
Suzanne: But, it took forever to get my bangs right.
Kit-Kat: Take another hit and this time breathe real deep.
Suzanne: *cough *cough, That stings.
Kit-Kat: What-choo got, cosmetics-wise?
Suzanne: Just some lip gloss and blue mascara, ‘s all.
(Suzanne passes her purse to Kit-Kat, who starts rummaging through bag)
Kit-Kat: An eyebrow pencil? Keepin’ this from me? (He pulls it out and examines the tip)
Suzanne: Oh yeah, that too. It doesn’t match my hair.
Kit-Kat: Hush now. It’s time for your close-up.
Suzanne: Ouch. That hurts.
Kit-Kat: For the pain… (rummages through bag, pulls out small plastic baggie) Open up for window pain. One for you and two for me.
Suzanne: Is there strychnine in it? I heard it causes cancer, like Shasta.
Kit-Kat: This LSD was smuggled out of Timothy Leary’s house in the talking asshole of a Manson family member. This is counter-culture concentrate.
Suzanne: This thwat Eigh sid?
Kit-Kat: Leave it on your tongue until I say so. Now where did I put my black grease paint stick?
(Kit-Kat begins the transformation of Suzanne into Princess VCR)
Mimi: Oh my god, what is going on back there?
Andrea: He’s giving her fleas, crabs and lice all at the same time.
Mimi: She looks so out of it.
Andrea: I can’t wait to tell Steph and Raina before first period. They are so gonna FLIP!
Mimi: Maybe we should do something.
Andrea: Are you kidding? She was asking for it.
Mimi: Maybe we were a little too hard on her?
Andrea: Who, Blimpie?
Mimi: I mean, the trauma of losing Cooper is still with me.
Andrea: Grow up. The passing of your cat is emblematic of your maturity. The kitten needed to go. For God’s sake, you get your period now…You can’t be hanging out with fat lezzy mustachioed cows, ok? You do want a boyfriend, correct?
Mimi: I suppose so.
Andrea: Good. Let’s move back a few seats to hear what’s going on.
Mimi: I’m not snooping.
Andrea: Oh yeah? I wish I had some popcorn.
Mimi: You’re perverse.
Andrea: Shut the fuck up. We’re in high school and you’ve not done your homework.
(As Andrea sneaks back a few rows…the audible cries and squeals from Kit Kat and Princess VCR grow more intense. They work up into a crescendo of delight and POOF).
Kit-Kat: I am pleased to present…
(Music starts as Kit-Kat finishes this triumphant announcement…princess VCR looks like a cross between Bridgid Polk and the bride of Frankenstein. Her hair has severely peaked spikes and other possibly dangerous features.)
Kit-Kat: What’s her name? Pah-rinse-cess! How’s it spelt? Vee Cee aaaarR!
Suzanne: Uh, yeah!
Kit-Kat: Work, gurhl. Go’on. Work it out.
Suzanne: Like this?
Kit-Kat: Uh – huh. What’s her name?
Suzanne: Princess.
Kit-Kat: How’s it spelt?
Suzanne: VCR!
(They repeat this chant as these next few lines are exchanged between Mimi and Andrea).
Andrea: Meems! MEEEMS!!! Are you seeing this? I told you! Definite popcorn material. It’s like a makeover for satanic teenage prostitutes on Donahue! Ha!
Mimi: SHHHHH!!!!
Andrea: And you know what else? I think she crapped her pants! It smells like a fucking diaper back here! HA HA!
Kit-Kat: You got somethin’ to say, Missy?
Andrea: Yeah. There isn’t a lavatory on this bus so you’ll have to carry that log out with you.
Kit-Kat: Shut it, ho! (matter of fact) I’ll cut you.
Andrea: What’d you do to her? She looks like a burn victim.
Suzanne: You’re just scared cause I look better than you, Farrah Fawcett. How are the 70’s?
Andrea: (gasping) Charlie’s Angels is better than night of the living dead, Suzanne.
Mimi: Maybe I can help out,
Suzanne: You can’t touch this.
Kit-Kat: Tell ‘em, Girl.
Suzanne: I’m not interested in getting fucked painfully and hashing out the details with a witches brew crew, and I’m not into working out my herky technique with the rest of the squad, either. Fuck the two of you, I’m beyond this Aryan trash heap of suburban mores. I’ve got hair, and I’m headin’ to the city.
Andrea: See, I told you she’s a dyke.
Mimi: She’s obviously in pain. We need to support her.
Andrea: Are you kidding?
Suzanne: You’re bleeding heart shtick won’t work, either, Mimi. I’ll jujitsu you with my split ends.
Kit-Kat: For real. I’ve seen them. They’ve cut diamonds.
Suzanne: I have tried so hard. I have permed, teased, feathered and for what?. So I can look like you? Why should I? You’re at the bottom of the scrap heap, Andrea and I have a flamethrower between my legs. So burn baby, burn. This “fat lezzy” is you’re worst nightmare. Can’t you tell how punk fucking rock my pussy smells?
Kit-Kat: Damn princess, I can smell it. (hits popper)
Andrea: All I can smell is a little bitch who crapped her pants.
Suzanne: I’ve taken your shit for years, Andrea, Here take some of mine (pulls shit from pants and smears it all over Andrea’s face and hair. Kit-Kat and Mimi are aghast)
Andrea: (crumpling in shock) Ohmigod, (gags) I can’t believe you just did that. (starts crying)
Mimi: Why are you being so mean to us? We’re your friends, Suzanne. Don’t be evil.
Suzanne: I will have no part in your morality ploys, Mimi. Your evil is a construct to control me. Evil is when you force me into believing your shit hole life philosophy. I will not believe anymore. I will be more.
Mimi: I’m going to tell the bus driver to stop.
Kit-Kat: Princess, don’t make a scene. Chill out - it’s just the acid kicking in.
Suzanne: I will not chill out, sit down or step off. I am sophomore Godzilla.
Kit-Kat Ok okay…. I AM with you. A rear gunner. Princess VCR, lead the way.
Andrea (crying and sputtering): Fuck you Suzy Q, fat bitch lezzie whore. I curse you. May you never know the happiness of a condoned marriage. I curse you with the marginalized representation you deserve.
Suzanne: This reification of hetero norms will be your quicksand.
Andrea: Whatever, Suzanne. You’re goin’ down.
Mimi: Wait.
Suzanne: For what?
Mimi: I’m sorry. Don’t do this.
Suzanne: I don’t think so.
Mimi: For realz. I’ve been manipulated by the patriarchy. Andrea is a brainwasher, and I was one of the washed. We’re lost already.
Suzanne: You see my hair?
Mimi: Yes.
Suzanne: You want to feel it.
Mimi: Silky-smooth? Do you use Prell?
Suzanne: You tell me. Ha!
(Suzanne attacks Mimi with her bangs and other shellacked hair features. It is obviously violent, a rape. Andrea attacks Kit-Kat and is overpowered. Lights strobe)
Kit-Kat: Hair hath such fury when its scorned.
Mimi: Wait!
Suzanne: No way.
Andrea: Fuck you queers. Bring it!
Mimi: Ow. That hurts.
Kit-Kat: Damn girl you’re dirty.
Suzanne: That’s right.
Kit-Kat: You okay up there, Princess .
Mimi: I’m bleeding.
Suzanne: And I’m just getting started..
Kit-Kat: Next stop. CNN. Mister Bus Driver, we’re gonna be on television.
(struggle continues as strobe lights slow to off)
End of play.
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