All of a sudden they just decide to set up a bomb that tries to explode the whole world.
D: Dude Let's try to make up a bomb that explodes the whole world and see what happens.
E: Girl. Not sure about that. It seems pretty drastic. Really drast--
D: Too bad man. Too bad. I've already made this happen and I've got the C4 to have a damn good fireworks extravaganza.
E: Not on Bond Street. Not on Bond Street. The architecture is way too bad man. It would be too appropriate.
D: You're right. Let's just make out hardcore.
(They make out for a few minutes while cars collide and explode and random gangs infiltrate various buildings along B. Street.)
E: You're awesome, But I've got to deal. Let's jet off to Bangkok, score some guns, buy a car in Europe and just take New York by storm.
D: Good call. I don't know why I never knew you before but you might be a genius. Or very close to a rapper I once knew.
E: Let's go. Let's go.
(They fade away into the fog covering Bond street, and the yellow of a taxi can be seen picking them up and carrying them away.)
Showing posts with label disaronnoblog plays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disaronnoblog plays. Show all posts
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Laah Laugh Poooteen Part V
They exit bond street after purchasing a property. then fucking light a bomb in the basment and blow that shit to piss.
they ask themselves, “is this even bond street”?
“ we c foured that building can’t wait to blow out let’s jet off to cleveland; I'm really getting into this lifestyle and they've got new airports there.”
“Nobody likes condos. Whites have eaten out the pussy of the lower east side. And it is now a hollow corpse.”
my broker is a gemini filthy scum. that’s why i can’t sleep at night without burning newspapers . I hate eating cunts from little female babies.
alright i’m down but also kill some people and take over this whole crazy country that’s bounded by a bunch of rivers and oceans.\
Giant male clay figure tranny fucking dude enters.
“Hello fucking female eastern european slut. Let’s fuck, womanfellow!
then slapped across the cunt, they decided to take a train to slovakia and start a magazine and make love over the strewn pages of their past issues.
MAGAZINE MAGAZINE. Who can even read or eat or comprehend this stupid shit? I can’t wait to talk to Serbastian, that fucker, he slighted me before; I’ve already slaughtered his sad children.
How were you this good? i don’t remember this in prague. but things about this geography is that none of us can make eat pussy
That’s the thing about good old stories. Sometimes you can’t assimilate the moral. And the moral of this story is stop snitchin’ I learned that the hard way the hard is prison when the slide up against the bathroom tiles and make yourself sing love.
sense of it. We are all victims of the vocabulary of white people, which are the worst people. BLACK POWER! BLACK POWER!
I realize I’m black. I can’t believe I didn’t nuke Bond St. , only blew it up.
they ask themselves, “is this even bond street”?
“ we c foured that building can’t wait to blow out let’s jet off to cleveland; I'm really getting into this lifestyle and they've got new airports there.”
“Nobody likes condos. Whites have eaten out the pussy of the lower east side. And it is now a hollow corpse.”
my broker is a gemini filthy scum. that’s why i can’t sleep at night without burning newspapers . I hate eating cunts from little female babies.
alright i’m down but also kill some people and take over this whole crazy country that’s bounded by a bunch of rivers and oceans.\
Giant male clay figure tranny fucking dude enters.
“Hello fucking female eastern european slut. Let’s fuck, womanfellow!
then slapped across the cunt, they decided to take a train to slovakia and start a magazine and make love over the strewn pages of their past issues.
MAGAZINE MAGAZINE. Who can even read or eat or comprehend this stupid shit? I can’t wait to talk to Serbastian, that fucker, he slighted me before; I’ve already slaughtered his sad children.
How were you this good? i don’t remember this in prague. but things about this geography is that none of us can make eat pussy
That’s the thing about good old stories. Sometimes you can’t assimilate the moral. And the moral of this story is stop snitchin’ I learned that the hard way the hard is prison when the slide up against the bathroom tiles and make yourself sing love.
sense of it. We are all victims of the vocabulary of white people, which are the worst people. BLACK POWER! BLACK POWER!
I realize I’m black. I can’t believe I didn’t nuke Bond St. , only blew it up.
Monday, January 28, 2008
A Bond: A Play in Fifty Acts: Act II
Act II: The French Excursion
(Continued from Act I, which was informally known as "La Poutine"
GUY IS HANGING FROM A NOOSE TIED AROUND ONE OF THE EXPOSED BEAMS THAT MAKES UP THIS EXQUISITE CEILING
D IS SMOKING A CIGARETTE, MORE SLOWLY THAN NORMAL PEOPLE. CLOSE TO THE END, SHE FLICKS IT AT THE SWINGING CORPSE
D: Looks like it's checkout time.
SHE TAKES THE REALLY NICE ELEVATOR DOWN TO THE FLOOR CALLED 'L' WHICH MEANS EITHER LOBBY OR LEVEL
D: Hey tuxedo slave, I need a car to your nearest Moroccan restaurant. Let's make this be.
Concierge: I guess I'm lucky. I guess you have luck. I guess luck is. There's a car waiting for you. It's outside.
SHE SWIRLS HER GUN IN THE AIR. RUNS OUTSIDE OF THE HOTEL., POCKETS THE SHAMPOO AND CONDITIONER
D: Salutations driver. Step on it, and step on it.
Car Driver: That's my job. I step on it. And I'm gonna stick to it.
THEY DRIVE WHEREVER THE FUCK THEY'RE GOING. DRIVER IS DRUNK. THEY SIDESWIPE A MOPED. IT'S A VESPA BEING DRIVEN BY A FLORIST. THIS VESPA WAS TERRIBLY TERRIBLY CONSTRUCTED. THE GAS TANK FELL IN THE ROAD AND HIT THE WINDSHIELD OF THE LIMO DRIVER AND ROBBED HIM OF HIS HEAD. THE OCCUPANTS SPILL OUT BECAUSE: WHAT OTHER CHOICE DO THEY REALLY HAVE? NOTHING REALLY. NONE OTHER CHOICE. IS THAT CLEAR? I THINK SO.
D FINDS ANOTHER TAXI BY GUNPOINT
D: Let's go to JFK and step on it. My boyfriend is in Paris and I really love him but he's caught up in the the DJ scene. For this reason, I need your livery services. I need them to be so fast, so so fucking fast. Deep inside of me fast.
Livery Driver: Whatever you want...Pay me and get your white ass to Paris. Good flight...not!
SHE GOES INTO JFK AND CHECKS HER BAGS. SHE HAS ONE CARRY-ON. SHE IS WAITING IN THE SECURITY LINE.
D: I just killed a man. Hurry up. I got a plane to catch. I don't have time for your x-ray. Do I look like I would?
Security Guard: I can call someone. I can make this hard for you.
D: I'm okay. I'll take my time. Sorry, I'm stressed out by air travel.
S: I see it all the time. Nice gun by the way.
D: Thanks, now I'll put my belt back on you professional woman.
SHE BOARDS THE PLANE AND FLIES TO PARIS. SHE GETS OFF THE PLANE AND GETS CAPPED BY HER PSYCHO KILLER BOYFRIEND.
(Continued from Act I, which was informally known as "La Poutine"
GUY IS HANGING FROM A NOOSE TIED AROUND ONE OF THE EXPOSED BEAMS THAT MAKES UP THIS EXQUISITE CEILING
D IS SMOKING A CIGARETTE, MORE SLOWLY THAN NORMAL PEOPLE. CLOSE TO THE END, SHE FLICKS IT AT THE SWINGING CORPSE
D: Looks like it's checkout time.
SHE TAKES THE REALLY NICE ELEVATOR DOWN TO THE FLOOR CALLED 'L' WHICH MEANS EITHER LOBBY OR LEVEL
D: Hey tuxedo slave, I need a car to your nearest Moroccan restaurant. Let's make this be.
Concierge: I guess I'm lucky. I guess you have luck. I guess luck is. There's a car waiting for you. It's outside.
SHE SWIRLS HER GUN IN THE AIR. RUNS OUTSIDE OF THE HOTEL., POCKETS THE SHAMPOO AND CONDITIONER
D: Salutations driver. Step on it, and step on it.
Car Driver: That's my job. I step on it. And I'm gonna stick to it.
THEY DRIVE WHEREVER THE FUCK THEY'RE GOING. DRIVER IS DRUNK. THEY SIDESWIPE A MOPED. IT'S A VESPA BEING DRIVEN BY A FLORIST. THIS VESPA WAS TERRIBLY TERRIBLY CONSTRUCTED. THE GAS TANK FELL IN THE ROAD AND HIT THE WINDSHIELD OF THE LIMO DRIVER AND ROBBED HIM OF HIS HEAD. THE OCCUPANTS SPILL OUT BECAUSE: WHAT OTHER CHOICE DO THEY REALLY HAVE? NOTHING REALLY. NONE OTHER CHOICE. IS THAT CLEAR? I THINK SO.
D FINDS ANOTHER TAXI BY GUNPOINT
D: Let's go to JFK and step on it. My boyfriend is in Paris and I really love him but he's caught up in the the DJ scene. For this reason, I need your livery services. I need them to be so fast, so so fucking fast. Deep inside of me fast.
Livery Driver: Whatever you want...Pay me and get your white ass to Paris. Good flight...not!
SHE GOES INTO JFK AND CHECKS HER BAGS. SHE HAS ONE CARRY-ON. SHE IS WAITING IN THE SECURITY LINE.
D:
Security Guard: I can call someone. I can make this hard for you.
D: I'm okay. I'll take my time. Sorry, I'm stressed out by air travel.
S: I see it all the time. Nice gun by the way.
D: Thanks, now I'll put my belt back on you professional woman.
SHE BOARDS THE PLANE AND FLIES TO PARIS. SHE GETS OFF THE PLANE AND GETS CAPPED BY HER PSYCHO KILLER BOYFRIEND.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
The First Play to be Episodically Published on DiSaronno Blog: A Bond: A Play in Fifty Acts: Act I
Daughter of the Congresswoman and Policeman: I can't believe I just did that. My parents will crucify me in the worst way possible. Jesus christ lof atter day saints.
Guy: Let's just jet off to Montreal
D: How about we peace and steal my parents liqour cabinet and sell it across border for a plus plus premium. Then we'll go to Quebec and enjoy the local foods such as POUTINE.
G: You're driving too fast. We gotta fucking chill out. Fucking coppers are gonna get on our ass in a big way.
THEY PULL INTO A ROADSIDE MOTEL
D: Fuck motherfucker. I lost my keys and wallet, you gotta pay and eat the cost. Swallow that shit and fucking be normal.
G: Don't worry about me, you gotta fucking stop shaking and get outta the car.
THEY CHECK IN
G: This carpet, it's a nightmare.
D: It's my carpet and you must stare upon it.
G PULLS A GUN OUT
D: Why do you always think that we should feel like this?
G: I really wanna kill someone tonight. It's gonna be you or the inkeeper. Make your choice. The choice belongs.
D DOES A BACKFLIP OUT THE WINDOW. SHE ESCAPES, KILLS AN INKEEPER, WALKS UPSTAIRS TO THE ROOM, THE DOOR OF WHICH SHE KICKS IN
D: Wow that was roundabout. Why don't we just get a room at the Four Seasons?
THEY CROSS A DEAD BODY IN THE LOBBY, HAIL A CAB, AND JET TO THE FOUR SEASONS WHERE THEY BOTH ORDER WHITE RUSSIANS
D: We really fucked that up. How about you pay more attention to me Phillip?
G: My name is not Phillip. I do know my name.
D: I do know knowledge. My boots are wet. I'm actually writing a book right now. And you don't know what it's about, but we just kill someone together. And we have a bond, a slight bond.
G: I know who you are. I saw you on the plane from Caracas. Granted I drugged you, but then we shared a life together. A fucking goddamn life. And now you're here and we gotta deal with it, so let's fucking think. So get your belongings and let's travel throughout restaurants.
D: Fuck yeah!
G: Yes rather than yeah.
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