|
|||||||||||||
Chapter 33 By Punkerslut
Freak shows up. FREAK: Punks of fuck.... I have a present for all of ya'. Freak leans in close to Gunner, and pulls out a small baggy of a white powder (crystal meth). FREAK: Let's take over the world. She leans in a little closer and licks Gunner's mouth. The song "Insecurities" by the Suicide Machines begins. The camera then shows Gunner, Kevin, and Freak running (from nothing). They all stop in an alleyway, and lean against a wall, to catch their breath. KEVIN: What are we running from? GUNNER: I'm not sure. FREAK: Nothing's out there. Ten seconds more of a breather. GUNNER: Then let's keep running. The camera focuses on the group running (from nothing), and slowly fades out to black. The camera fades back in, and it's day time again. Gunner is walking up and down the sidewalk near the park, handing food to the homeless. GUNNER: Here, take a brick of cheese. HOMEBUM: Hey, don't you know what this will do to my intestines? GUNNER: Yeah... You definitely might want to eat that over the period of a week. He keeps walking. He runs into another homebum. GUNNER: Hey, you want some food, brother? HOMEBUM: Nah, I just came back from a feeding on the other side of town. GUNNER: Right on. Good luck, my friend More walking... GUNNER: Hey, are you hungry? GUTTER PUNK: If by hungry, you mean thirsty for alcohol. GUNNER: Hey, now... Do you think it's really necessary to ask anyone that? GUTTER PUNK: Well, sometimes people aren't thirsty for alcohol. GUNNER: Only when they're trashed to fucking hell. GUTTER PUNK: True, but sometimes they could want more. GUNNER: Okay, hey, you want some fucking food or not? GUTTER PUNK: Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Gunner pulls out a box of cracker jacks and hands them to the gutter punk. GUTTER PUNK: Oh, come on, what the fuck is this shit? GUNNER: If you read the boxed, it's caramel coated goodness... with a toy! (smile) GUTTER PUNK: (shakes head and smiles) Thanks, man. GUNNER, VOICE OVER: Just another day, like all the rest. Hey Kid walks by with his dog... HEY KID: Hey, Gunner, how the hell are you doing? GUNNER: I'm fine, thanks. You want some food, my brother? HEY KID: Sure, sure... I gotta keep my blood vessels pumping and my lungs breathing somehow. Gimmie some that shoplifted cheese. GUNNER: Eh, I'm all outta cheese, actually. Take a can of Pringles? HEY KID: Yeah, throw me some Pringles. Anything that keeps me alive for another week or so. Gunner hands him a whole can. GUNNER: The good thing about Pringles is that they're in a can, and they don't make ruffle noises like those bags. HEY KID (as he opens the can and eats a chip): They're asking you to shoplift them, Gunner. GUNNER: Heh, if I ever get in a jam, you're going to be my lawyer. HEY KID: I'd be proud to. They shake hands and part ways. Gunner keeps walking. GUNNER: Hey, are you hungry, man? HIPPY: Yeah, I could go for some food right about now. GUNNER: Here, take a box of pretzels. HIPPY: Thanks, friend. I appreciate it. Walk with strength. GUNNER: I'll do that. Make sure you do the same. HIPPY: Of course. They shake hands and half-hug, and Gunner keeps walking. He gets two steps away, and slows down, and then stops. He turns around. GUNNER: Danny? The hippy stops, and turns around. DANNY: .... are you... Gunner? They walk towards each other, face to face, and then hug. GUNNER: Holy fucking shit. DANNY: I didn't know if I'd see you again. GUNNER, VOICE OVER: Danny. My first travel partner, from way back four years ago. The camera fades out, and then fades back in, showing the two of them on a park bench. GUNNER: So, what the fuck have you been up to? DANNY: I traveled around a bit. You know, it's been quite a long time. When was the last time we saw each other? GUNNER: We split up when I was 16. We slowly went into our own groups, our own camps of friends, and separated. You went with those kids who were like, goths and hippies, combined. DANNY: Yeah, I remember. And you went with the kids who had mohawks and spiked jackets, with tendencies towards alcoholism and violence. GUNNER: You talk about that like it's a bad thing. DANNY: Well, isn't it? GUNNER: Not necessarily. Violence is like, a natural urge, or a natural drive, for all human beings. DANNY: I don't think it is. I think that humans are naturally peaceful and without aggression. Only by conditioning do we become violent. GUNNER: Well, now that I'm conditioned to violence, I really fucking enjoy it. Okay? DANNY: I suppose that is one way of looking at it. GUNNER: So, what have you been up to, ya' fuckin hippy? DANNY: Well, after we sort of split up, I traveled around with these hippy kids for a while. We smoked plenty of marijuana, but not much alcohol. A little bit of opium was around, too. After a few months, I slowly became adjusted to their philosophy and ideology. I didn't even like carrying around a weapon any more, because I became so involved in the peace movement. Eventually, I finally got picked up, for standing on the curb, by some cops. They found my switchblade and I did two months for it. I never carried a weapon again. GUNNER: Damn, that's pretty fuckin' risky. DANNY: It's just that I'm not about violence. I can defend myself if necessary, but I just don't want anyone to think I'm about violence. GUNNER: I suppose that's reasonable. Where did you get picked up by the cops at? DANNY: It was in San Francisco. Yeah, we traveled around a lot. Seattle to Portland, to LA, and then Houston and the other areas. Anything near the coast, I guess. We stayed in LA only for a week. It was an awfully terrible place, despite the fact that Marijuana was available in large quantities for cheap. My friends and I hit up a few of the Rainbow Gatherings. Finally, I settled with some other guys in a commune. I was there for about four months, and then it went under. I became accustomed to living in a house, so I tried having a job and renting a place. That lasted another six months. I'm fucking telling you, brother, if you want to stop being homeless, get off the streets and into an apartment, it's absolutely goddamn impossible. GUNNER: The land of the free, comrade. Land of the free, home of the brave. DANNY: Fuck America. GUNNER: I'm pleased to see that you still use the word 'fuck.' DANNY: Hey, thanks, friend. (smile) And, what have you been doing with your time? GUNNER: I traveled around a bit, Pittsburgh, New York, New Orleans, some various small cities in Florida and Georgia. Then I went all around, Houston, Portland, Seattle, the major cities. You know how it is. I did a little time for Aggravated Assault in LA. Some methhead fucking grabbed me, and started yelling, so I started beating the shit out of him. I have a warrant for Aggravated Assault in Florida, and another warrant for Possession of Narcotics in Connecticut. Usually, the cost of extradition is so high, states aren't willing to pay to have them ship my ass up to where they want me. Various drunken brawls and fights here and there. Portland was awesome, mostly because I shoplifted a crowbar and broke into like, seven buildings a night. I was liberating buildings so they could be used as squats. It was such a fucking fun time. Then after I lost my crowbar, I stuck around town for a bit, and then fucking head out. Been getting into fights, getting drunk as fuck, and expressing my opinions for as long as I can remember. DANNY: I'm glad that you still believe in the cause of the revolution. GUNNER: Hey, I'm not a fucking blind piece of shit. Why the fuck would I forget? DANNY: I don't know, for certain. GUNNER: When you live this type of lifestyle, you better get politically minded fucking soon. DANNY: You know... I guess we really did take very different turns when we split up. To tell you the truth, my friend and family, I know much about gutter punks, and I'm not very proud of the decision you made to become one of them. Gunner looking at his friend, looks down, and looks displeased, for at least four seconds, and then smiles, and looks away, toward the sky. GUNNER, VOICE OVER: At first, I met Danny's disappointment with feeling bad about myself. But then I realized, he's not a gutter punk. He never slept in two degree weather outside, with nothing but sweet vodka to keep you warm. He never gave a battlecry to the moon, hoping that the stars would give him strength as he smashed open the windows of the nearest bank. He didn't sit on the street corners and beg for change, when people knew that he would only spend it on getting drunk. He never saw the things I saw, never lived the life I did. Besides, fuck him, I know goddamn well that I'm proud of the way I lived. As Gunner is looking at into the sky, he sees Rachel walk by and wave with a smile. He turns to Danny and stands up off the park bench. GUNNER: Well, I have more important things to attend to. If you need anything, feel free to come to me, and I'll do anything I goddamn can for you. DANNY: Thanks, bro. I might just take you up on that offer. I'll see you around. GUNNER: Yeah, later.
|
