Grand Ghoulish (II-II)

II-II. ONE PUNCH

The alley behind the gallery. Brennifer speaks to an OFFICER. Officer slowly, yet un-assuredly takes notes on a handy little notepad with a little pencil.

Harold, meanwhile, stands by his grandmother’s station wagon, patiently waiting for his cue as if he isn’t actually there. He holds a large framed photograph under each arm.

OFFICER: Okay. So, would you mind going over this one more time for me?

BRENNIFER: What’s the point of writing all this down if you’re just going to have me repeat it?

Officer gestures to the audience.

BRENNIFER: Oh. Right. (to Harold) Go on, then.

HAROLD: You sure?

Brennifer gestures to the audience.

BRENNIFER: Wouldn’t want complaints about exposition.

HAROLD: (nods) Of course.

Harold drops, shatters the photographs. He pretends to care, but really can’t be assed.

HAROLD: Like that?

BRENNIFER: It’ll do.

OFFICER: That’s it?

BRENNIFER: Don’t make me have to do this again.

HAROLD: Yeah, what she said. Also, I didn’t bring any more of these to break.

OFFICER: Sorry.

Brennifer and Harold glare at Officer disapprovingly. Then…

BRENNIFER: (to Harold) Everything okay? I heard screaming.

HAROLD: Yeah, it’s cool. I always scream when things are okay.

She gestures to the broken pictures.

BRENNIFER: You need some help with that?

HAROLD: Nah. That was the last of it. Sorry it took me so long to come back for all this.

BRENNIFER: It’s cool. I’m sorry nobody bought anything.

HAROLD: Yeah. But at least I got some work out of it.

BRENNIFER: (puzzles this) (laughs) Oh, yeah. That weird couple. How’d that work out?”

HAROLD: (laughs) Sophia’s not weird…

BRENNIFER: (grimaces) Aw, shit…

HAROLD: (blinks) What?

BRENNIFER: You dumb bastard. How long have you been fucking her?

HAROLD: (considers this) What?

BRENNIFER: (to Officer) You getting this?

OFFICER: (reads) “You dumb bastard. How long have you been fucking her?” (to Brennifer) What next?

BRENNIFER: Right. Well. The dude came up and–

OFFICER: Dude?

BRENNIFER: Just watch.

Brennifer gestures for things to proceed.

Oliver appears, punches Harold, Harold kisses the pavement and stays there.

OLIVER: (to Brennifer) How was that?

BRENNIFER: Perfect. Thank you.

Oliver leaves.

OFFICER: Wait. You didn’t think to warn your friend–

Brennifer shakes her head, “Nuh-uh.”

BRENNIFER: Harold and I screwed a few times in the utility closet after hours. We weren’t friends.

Officer looks at the pink-haired woman in front of him, wonders if she sells minerals or weed, then continues.

OFFICER: Right. So, you didn’t think to warn Harold that a (reads notes) “very angry dude” was about to start a fight with him?

She shakes her head again.

BRENNIFER: Not a fight – an ass-kicking. The dude threw one punch, then left.

OFFICER:  Okay. But why didn’t you say anything to Harold?

Brennifer considers this, then shrugs.

BRENNIFER: Maybe I thought he had it coming.