Watching The Buggers (Part 7 Of 12)
Watching The Buggers (Part 7 Of 12)
by Tim Barcode
A play about the 2004 investigation into allegations of bugging the Maori Party.
This play is being serialised in 12 parts on Scoop. See CLICK HERE for links to all parts of the serial published so far.
Anyone wanting to perform it simply has to ask the writers permission and donate a tenth of the profits of any performances to the Ahmed Zaoui Support Fund
Westpac
Queen Street, Auckland,
Account Number: 03 0296 0076601
00
Account Name: Zaoui Support Fund.
Characters:
The story so far…. In the
first six parts
Act Two
Scene 1
Wednesday afternoon 1.50.
Inside – A drycleaners in Levin.
There is at least one rack of clothes with plastic covers. There is a counter, with a till, and a chair beside the counter. There should if possible be a computer terminal and keyboard on the counter.
A phone rings. It is a
cordless phone sitting on the counter.
It rings for a
while.
Enter Madonna. She is 19 or so. And bored. She
enters from inside the shop with no sense of urgency. She
misses the phone, but doesn’t care.
She puts some clothes
on the rack, the phone rings again. She could be the same
person as Jane, or played by the same actress. Or
not.
Madonna walks over, again in no hurry and answers it
in a broad kiwi accent, with a rise at the end of most
lines. She also has a tendency to use the word ‘like’ in
every sentence.
Madonna: . . . . (
Answering phone- the gaps are the person she is talking to
responding) Good afternoon Gibson’s drycleaners – the
driest drycleaners in Levin. Madonna speaking, can I help
you?... Yeah. …. Nah… Nah you’re like confusing us with Chas
Manson Drycleaning on the main road; we’re Gibson’s
drycleaners…. Yeah like near the fish and chip shop that
sells antiques … Nah you’re thinking of the hairdressers
next to the lawnmower repairs and tattoo parlour… we’re like
over the road, next to the new age crystal and butcher
shop…. Yeah there are a lot of shops that do like two
things…Naah we just do drycleaning… Naah you can’t speak to
him… He’s out…. Back later, an hour? … yeah sweet… ring
then….
Madonna turns off the phone as the call has
ended.
. . . . Fucking loser.
Madonna walks
to the back of the shop and yells.
. . . . SOME GUY
CALLED. I TOLD HIM YOU WEREN’T HERE!
Coates enters
through the main door of the shop. He is dressed
identically to the first two scenes. He is breathless. He
checks behind him to see that he wasn’t followed and doesn’t
see Madonna.
Madonna stares at him.
Coates satisfies
himself that he wasn’t followed and turns around and gets a
fright when he sees Madonna.
Coates: . . . .
Hi! Didn’t see you there.
Madonna
stares.
Pause.
Coates: . . . . Hi.
Madonna: . . . . Yeah?
Coates: . . . . Haven’t I met you before?
Madonna: . . . . Nah.
Coates: . . . . This is Gibson’s drycleaners?
Madonna: . . . . What does the sign say?
Coates: . . . . Oh sorry I thought it said
this was Gibson’s drycleaners….
Coates goes to
exit.
Madonna: . . . . Yeah?
Coates: . . . . So this is Gibson’s Drycleaners?
Madonna: . . . . Yeah.
Coates: . . . . I thought you were saying it isn’t.
Madonna: . . . . For Christ’s sake… Can I help you?
Coates: . . . . Yes, yes you can.
Madonna: . . . . How?
Coates: . . . . I think I’m here to meet Mr Gibson.
Madonna: . . . . You’re shit out of luck.
Coates: . . . . Sorry?
Madonna: . . . . You can’t.
Coates: . . . . Is he out?
Madonna: . . . . Nah.
Coates: . . . . Is he away?
Madonna: . . . . He’s dead.
Coates: . . . . Oh.
Madonna: . . . . We can still do your drycleaning though.
Coates: . . . . What?
Madonna: . . . . Jesus! Just cos the old bastard died doesn’t mean he did all the drycleaning. Other people can dryclean.
Coates: . . . . I see, so you dryclean clothes?
Madonna: . . . . ( impatiently) No not me. But if you leave them here we can do them!
Coates: . . . . I think I must be in the wrong place.
Madonna: . . . . What are you looking for?
Coates: . . . . A drycleaners but…
Madonna: . . . . Sweet, we’re a drycleaners.
Coates: . . . . Can you tell me if I’m in the right place?
Madonna: . . . . How would I know?
Coates: . . . . Is this the right drycleaners?
Madonna: . . . . Have you forgotten where you left your stuff, or did the missus drop it in?
Coates: . . . . No I’m single.
Madonna: . . . . So when did you drop the stuff off?
Coates: . . . . No. I’m not here to pick up anything.
Madonna: . . . . We’re like just as good as Mansons.
Coates: . . . . Mansons?
Madonna: . . . . The other drycleaners.
Coates: . . . . Where are they?
Madonna: . . . . On the main road. Just give us the clothes.
Coates: . . . . I haven’t got any drycleaning.
Madonna: . . . . Right.
Coates: . . . . Do you do anything besides drycleaning?
Madonna: . . . . Like what?
Coates: . . . . Ah … I can’t tell you.
Madonna just stares at him.
. . . . I think
I might try the other drycleaners.
Madonna: . . . . Whatever.
Coates: . . . . Do they do anything other than drycleaning?
Madonna: . . . . Yeah.
Coates: . . . . What?
Madonna: . . . . They sell Amway.
Coates: . . . . ( disappointed) Oh.
Madonna: . . . . I don’t know what you’re after but you can get lost.
Coates: . . . . Are you sure Mr Gibson is dead?
Madonna: . . . . Well if the cancer didn’t get him, being cremated finished him.
Coates: . . . . I have an urgent meeting and I thought it was with Mr Gibson.
Madonna: . . . . Christ… ( looking at the newspaper on the counter) You could try Anita’s Psychic line.
Coates: . . . . ( thinking this is a clue) Anita’s psychic line… I see how do I…
Madonna: . . . . You ring them.
Coates: . . . . Okay… good, do you have the
number?
Madonna is clearly treating Coates as if he
is a freak.
Madonna goes to the newspaper, copies a
number onto a small square of paper and hands it to
Coates.
Coates grabs it eagerly.
Coates: . . . . Can I use the phone here?
Madonna: . . . . No.
Coates: . . . . Good point- It could be easily
traced, I have an encrypted cellphone.
Coates gets
out a cellphone. He waves it at Madonna.
. . . .
It’s encoded.
Coates checks the number he has been
handed and starts to dial it.
. . . . 0900….
He finishes dialling and waits for it to be
answered.
. . . . Brilliant cover- Anita’s psychic
line!
Coates is not listening to the answer on the
phone. He is being given options.
. . . .
2!
He pushes a button. He listens to more
options.
. . . . Oh God ( to Madonna) They
want to know what star sign – which one?
Madonna: . . . . What star sign are you?
Coates: . . . . Virgo.
Madonna: . . . . ( muttering) Figures. ( slightly sarcastic) Why don’t you try Virgo?
Coates: . . . . Oh brilliant! Virgo of
course!
He listens to the phone again.
. .
. . That’s 7.
He pushes 7.
He then pushes some
more options.
. . . . Ah huh ah huh.
Coates
gestures for a pen and paper which Madonna gives
him.
Coates writes down some details.
He terminates
the phone call.
. . . . ( to Madonna) I’m not
sure what it means.
Madonna: . . . . So was Mr Gibson on the phone?
Coates: . . . . ( worried) No. ( panic) He never came on. Was he supposed to? Or was there a clue in what they did say that will lead me to him? I was looking for instructions.
Madonna: . . . . You’re a fucking headcase.
Coates: . . . . What? I was told to come to Gibson’s drycleaners.
Madonna: . . . . Who by?
Coates: . . . . I can’t tell you it’s classified. And I don’t know it was on a note under the train timetable in Masterton.
Madonna: . . . . Railway timetable? Get out you freak.
Coates: . . . . No, no…
Madonna: . . . . ( calling to the back of the shop) Boss Boss…..come out here now.
Coates: . . . . ( Moving toward the front
door) It’s all right I’m going… sorry to have troubled
you…
Coates goes to exit.
Enter Paul, now wearing
a suit.
Paul: . . . . Can I help?
Coates: . . . . ( turns) You!
Paul: . . . . Yes.
Coates: . . . . The waiter!
Madonna: . . . . Waiter? He’s a real retard.
(Continuing tomorrow…)
See
http://scoop.co.nz/mason/features/?s=spooks#watching for
links to all parts of the serial published so far.