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Chapter 34 By Punkerslut
Gunner walks over to Rachel. GUNNER: Hey, there... What are you doing in these horrible parts at this horrible time? RACHEL: I took the day off. Decided to go to the park. And what about you? Aren't you scared of being attacked by some ravaged mugger here? GUNNER: Aw, come on... You keep talking like that and I'll cum my paints. (smile) RACHEL: Ha! (turning away, almost ashamed, but yes, ashamed) You are so dirty and real at the same time. I like it. (smile) He sits down on a bench next to her, and lays his head on her lap. GUNNER: Mmmmmmmm, so what have you done today? RACHEL: Well, I got up around eight... GUNNER: Eight? Blah, I think I went to bed at that time, or at least woke up for a few minutes so I could vomit, and then... go back to sleep. RACHEL: You really shouldn't do that to your body. There's a reason you have such a negative reaction to alcohol. GUNNER: You mean, besides not getting enough of it in me at once? RACHEL: Very much so are there other reasons. GUNNER: Nooooo.... like what? RACHEL: Well, it dehydrates you. GUNNER: I'm well aware of that. RACHEL: It can become an addiction, a problem that you have to live with. It destroys brain cells, too! GUNNER: If I have enough brain cells left to decide that this entire world is made out of bullshit, among other kinds of shit, isn't that enough? RACHEL: Alcohol will shut down those braincells. GUNNER: I pray that it does, only when I'm awake.... That way I can forget about the world I'm living in. RACHEL: You don't really feel that way, do you? GUNNER: Hhhhmmmmm, mostly... Only about the politics, about the society, about the three year olds pumping dirty water through a public pipe, because the Imperialists thought it would be a good idea to burn down the forests so they could grow sugar cane out of the ashes, and then, wars, and plagues, and all that other shit... RACHEL: That was a very dignified trailing off, Gunner. (smile) GUNNER: (smile) Why thank you, madame. RACHEL: You know you can overdose on alcohol, right? GUNNER: Only if you do it right. What's the bother, anyway? RACHEL: Well, I just worry about you, I guess. Maybe I shouldn't. You know what you're doing, since you live this lifestyle. GUNNER: Aaawww, thanks... I guess you could call it a lifestyle, whereas other people would just say it's being a worthless bum. Gunner turns his head away from the other people in the park and toward Rachel's stomach. RACHEL: I respect you. GUNNER: Never said you didn't. Just making an observation about the rest of this hell hole planet. RACHEL: The one that you drink yourself to forgetting exists? GUNNER: That's the one. Except for the parallel Universe where Ronald Reagan is in control of everything forever.... Actually, no, I don't drink to forget the world's problems. I drink because I like it and it makes me feel happy. Little chemicals get released from my mind that make me want to smile. RACHEL: I just hope you never do anything to endanger your own health. GUNNER: Whoa, whoa, whoa, me? Do that? Hardly! RACHEL: Are you being sarcastic? GUNNER: I don't know. Am I? RACHEL: Heh, I think so. Someone wanders along. DAVID: Hey, Rachel, how are you doing? RACHEL: I'm all right, David. How are you? DAVID: Doing fine, doing fine. Who's the piece of trash on your lap? Gunner, with his face looking towards Rachel's stomach, turns over saying, "I'll fuckin' kill him," and then turns, to seeing David, a housepunk. He has plaid pants, clean boots, suspenders, and a Sex Pistols shirt, as well as a well groomed mohawk that is about five colors and twenty piercings. He's very clean. GUNNER: Oh, it's a fucking house punk. He turns back to Rachel's stomach. DAVID: Fuck you, gutter punk. GUNNER: I think I hear your mother calling. Go see her before I get up and tear out your spleen, so I can force feed it to you. DAVID: Rachel, you like squatters? Jesus. Hey, kid! How about you get off your lazy ass, and get a fucking job. GUNNER: (hesitation) Okay, that's it, I'm standing up. Gunner lifts his head off of Rachel's lap and stands up. GUNNER: Listen, housey, shut the fuck up and go back to your MTV never land. DAVID: Hey, I fucking hate MTV, so thanks for stereotyping me as a Republican, America-loving fucking... GUNNER: Shut the fuck up right goddamn now before I do more than fucking stereotype your fucking ass! RACHEL: Boys, I think you need to calm down --... DAVID: Take a shower, and grow up, you crusty piece -- GUNNER: That's it!! Gunner lunges at David, but Rachel pulls him back. The song "Sucks" by Crass begins playing. RACHEL: Please, Gunner, please!! Don't fight him!! DAVID: Assholes like you destroyed the fuckin' scene... GUNNER, VOICE OVER: Scene? What fuckin' scene? Great. Now every high schooler is convinced that my life is a fucking trendy fucking fad. Sure, sure, you have your goths, your outcasts, your nerds, your jocks, and don't forget! Your punks! I never joined any scene. I became a member of a culture, representing the angry and poor. It sucks that we were exploited to provide another way for corporate America to make insecure high school kids gain acceptance. Chickenshit conformists. This kid is nothing but a fucking redneck with redneck opinions -- and a fucking worthless human being. DAVID: It's not too fucking hard to rent an apartment. Ooooo, ooooo, it's cool to ask for spare change and cigarettes, because I'm homeless and I dumpster dive for food. Jeeze, you're lucky you have a cunt here to protect you. GUNNER: FUCK YOU! Gunner lunges at David and punches him in the face three times hard, and the kid drops to the ground. He kicks David once in the side, and goes to kick him again, but instead stops and kicks the door. Tank walks over from the other side of the park. TANK: The fuck is happening? GUNNER: Asshole here... Insulted me. I didn't do anything I thought was wrong, Tank. He's a housey. TANK: Goddammit... Tank picks up the kid and brings him to the outside of the park, stands him on his feet, and gives the kid a push. TANK: Get the fuck out of my goddamn park, house punk motherfucker, and don't goddamn come back. Tank comes back. TANK: We really need a gestapo to kill these fucking house punks. GUNNER: Tank, I never knew you were agro against houseys. TANK: Yeah, I fucking hate house punks. GUNNER: But you hardly qualify as a punk. You're more like, a medium aged, tall, very disgruntled monster, or humanoid creature. TANK: Heh, if I was monster, I'd probably be able to get away with more crimes. House punks piss me off because they make a fucking weekend holiday out of what my best friends have to fucking live with. Thanks for pissing me off.... Fuck.... Gunner, you better get the fuck outta here. GUNNER: Yeah, thanks, man... Hey, Rach -- RACHEL: Oh, my god... I can't believe you just did that to him. GUNNER: He insulted me and my friends. And he should die... How do you know that fuck anyway? And where does he live? RACHEL: He's the son of one of my coworkers. GUNNER: That... is..... awesome! While I can conceive of my actions having no negative effect, I'm not entirely ruling out the idea. RACHEL: Oh, my god... Oh, my god... This is bad. This is just bad. I have to go, right now, right now. GUNNER: Hey, I'm the one who committed the crime. RACHEL: I really wish you didn't do that, Gunner... I have to go right now. GUNNER: Okay, I'll see you around, some time. Gunner waves to her as she leaves the park. TANK: You know, you should be the one leaving... GUNNER: Why? ... Oh, right, police and crime and prison, all that. I'll see you around. Stay strong! TANK: You do the same. "Violent School" by Dead Milkmen starts. Gunner books it out of the other end of the park.
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