Controversy Made Punk
Scene One: An Accident Changes a Life
Scene Opens. We find ourselves in the middle of what appears to be a houses run down, basement. The steps behind pushed up against the cement block wall appears to be tilted downward due to overuse and sands of time, its unfinished pinewood steps bowed slightly at the middle for the same reasons. They end at a bright orange shag carpet, obviously a holdover from the former 80’s decor of the room. The carpet too is faded, dirt being engrained into it by the feet that pass through, creating a pass towards a green upholstered couch, chunks of which have been taken out of its wooden trim, most likely due to a careless kick as someone flopped down over the side. On the couch are a group of three boys, looking to be in their late teens, each holding a three pronged controller and leaning forward with their eyes open wide as they stare intently at a glowing screen. The boy furthest to the left is slightly portly, his t-shirt fit with a Star Wars logo and old blue jeans having to bulge out to cover his gut. He has his tongue hanging out to the side as he moves the joystick on the controller. The boy in the center is nearly the opposite, his body a near bean pole hidden by a Blue Shirt with a red Domino’s Pizza logo, and a pair of khakis that hang past his feet, scraping against the ground as his leg twitches slightly, obviously as drawn into the game as his friend. His face is marred almost completely by red blemishes and the glassed pressed up on the bridge of his nose are so smudged that we can barely see the reflection of the television back from them as its bright blue hue bounces out into the room. The boy on the far right is totally separated from his friends, sitting calmly back, his shoulders slouched against the back of the chair and a small smirk on his face. His blue and white button-up shirt hangs open to show a white undershirt underneath and his loose jeans end at an old pair of white Chuck Taylor sneakers, their laces undone. He sports wildly red dyed hair that is spiked up with gel and a lip ring that twists with his mouth as his smirk continues to grow wider and wider into a smile. But what really draws us to the boy is something about his hazel colored eyes that look familiar. They turn to the side growing with a smile as we hear a gunshot ringing through the basement. As this boy’s smile grows, a look of frustration appears on the faces of the other two as the one on the left throws his controller up in the air while the one in the center simply hangs his head downward, shaking it slowly from side to side. Meanwhile the familiar looking boy kicks his feet up to the cushion using the leverage to hoist himself up onto the arm of the old couch, letting out a slight groan that his quickly subsided by a quick wooing sound from the boy as he moves his arms out to the side.
Phil Brooks: And he does it again ladies and gentlemen, with that victory, Phil Brooks has proclaimed himself the all time champion of Golden Eye. And the crowd goes wild…
Cupping his hands over his mouth, the boy lets out a loud sound to imitate the roaring of a stadium crowd, but quickly throws his hands out and his head back as he closes his eyes.
Phil Brooks: Thank you! Thank you!
But his celebration is cut off prematurely by the boy in the center of the couch, who throws his controller at Phil’s gut, nearly sending him rolling off the arm of the couch if not for a quick reaction of his right arm to grab the couch between his legs.
Charles Greene: Don’t get so cocky Brooks.
The portly boy sticks out his chin and nods in agreement before piping in himself.
Sam Marshall: Yeah man! Let’s make this a best out of 12!
Brooks lets out a chuckle before letting himself slide down onto the same couch cushion he occupied just a few minutes earlier.
Phil Brooks: Oh, it’s on bitches…
Elbowing his friend to the side, the boy in the middle can’t help but let a small smile appear on his face before shaking it away to replace it with the same intense look we saw a few seconds earlier passing across his face one again. After spinning the control stick on his remote for a few seconds, we hear a musical interlude before the boys assume their positions once again, one with their tongue out, one with a twitching leg, and one not looking like he has a care in the world.
Charles Greene: So tell me this Phil…
The boy’s word is strained as he continues to intensely look at the screen of the television, twisting his controller from side to side as he talks.
Charles Greene: What the hell is the Homecoming King of our high school doing here on a Saturday night instead of being out at the parties with everyone else?
The boy on the left of the couch’s voice mimics the same strain as his comrade.
Sam Marshall: Yeah, I thought you’d be at Bad Luck Fales party tonight and we wouldn’t see you for the next few weeks.
He lets out a grunt of sarcastic laughter that’s mimicked by the boy in the middle.
Phil Brooks: I already told you guys…
This boy’s voice isn’t quite as strained as his two compatriots, but he pauses as his face searches the screen in front of him for just a moment.
Phil Brooks: That whole party thing isn’t really my scene. Not with…
He pauses again, catching himself from saying something he didn’t want to and suppressing it with a cough before lowering his eyes back to the game.
Phil Brooks: Not with some stuff that’s going on at home, that’s all.
Several seconds of intense joystick moving follows before the boy in the center is able to get in a few more words.
Charles Greene: Oh, we knew you wouldn’t go for the party, we just thought that you’d be there for Katie…
The boy on the right lets out a whistle, but both are moved to laughter as Phil elbows the boy in center into the boy on the left.
Phil Brooks: Shut up. I already told you guys a thousand times, Katie and I are just friends…
But his verbal denials can’t mask the sudden flush of red across his face at the mere mention of the girl’s name.
Sam Marshall: Well that’s not what it looked like when I saw the two of you all lovey-dovey as you were walking back to her dad’s car at the end of the dance last month…
Without another word, the two friends lean in unison forward as they turn their faces towards Phil, his eyes still locked onto the television, although they have grown to what appears to be twice their normal size.
Phil Brooks: I uh… I uh…
But before he has to answer for his actions, all three boys suddenly jump slightly at the sound of a ringing coming from the right side of the couch. But suddenly Phil’s hand darts into his pocket retrieving a small silver box pinched between his thumb and pointer.
Phil Brooks: Well if you’ll excuse me guys, I have to take this….
He punches a single button on the front of the cell phone before pushing it up to his ear. The portly boy leans towards the skinny one’s ear, whispering under his breath.
Sam Marshall: Talk about saved by the bell.
The boy in center lets out a small snort of laughter.
Phil Brooks: Hello? Oh… how’s it going Mrs. Stevens?
The one in the center turns towards his friend and whispers although he makes sure that it’s loud enough for his friend on the opposite side to hear.
Charles Greene: You know for being just friends, isn’t it weird for their mom to know your cell phone number?
His fit of laughter is cut off by a neatly place elbow to the ribcage.
Phil Brooks: Hold on a second… What?
The mood in the room suddenly grows more serious as Phil squints his eyes moving forward. The other two pick up on the mood as they quiet themselves.
Phil Brooks: What do you mean Katie’s been in an accident?
The other two share a troubled glance as Brooks breathing accelerates as his eyes dart around the room.
Phil Brooks: Yeah, she’s at Sacred Heart? I’ll be there in 15 minutes…
Moving the cell phone from his face, Phil hits just one more button before dropping the phone back into his pocket as he is already standing up and taking long strides towards the bottom of the staircase.
Phil Brooks: Sorry guys, but I just… I gotta go…
He doesn’t look back at them as he wraps his hands around the bottom of the guard rail, using it as leverage to begin moving up the steps, taking them two at a time. The two friends are both up, moving to their place at the foot of the steps and craning their necks back, already several steps behind their wild eye friend.
Sam Marshall: Can we help?
Charles Greene: Yeah, is there anything we can do bro?
Brooks’ voice comes booming down from the top of the staircase and coincides with the creek of a rusty door as its pulled open.
Phil Brooks: No guys. I just… I have to be somewhere…
As a door is heard slamming shut, the two friends at the bottom share another concerned glance as the scene slowly fades to black.
Scene Two: The End is the Beginning
Scene Opens. We now appear to be in a hospital room of some sort. On the far wall, a window stands inset in the wall. The white window frame, and transparent pains have both been cleanly polished to a sparkle, not a spot of dust to be seen. The turquoise blinds have been pulled up to the top of the windowsill, allowing the light of the moon as well as the headlights of passing cars underneath to trickle down into the room, and bounce off the floor. The floor is a set of shinny white tiles with maroon and blue streaks through them. The tiles look as if they have a fresh coat of wax laid down on them, as they too gleam in the rays coming through the window. On the left side of the room, one chair sets. It is covered in a blue vinyl material, and looks more apt for an interrogation than for comfort. Above the chair hangs a portrait. The black frame contains a maroon mat that highlights a portrait of several mallard ducks in flight. The wall behind the portrait and chair is covered in pastel colored, floral-patterned wallpaper that continues on around the entire room, and gives off a sickening sterile feeling. Opposite the portrait and chair sits a countertop, its color matching the turquoise of the blinds and making a make-shift desk. Underneath the desk sits a grey filing cabinet, wedged between the far wall and the wall on the right. In front of the counter sits a contraption that can best be described as a bar stool on wheels, its top covered in a red material that seems to be the same as that which covers the chair. In the center of the room sits a huge hospital bed, which dominates most of the floor space. Its white sheets are pulled back and house one occupant. The woman, wearing the blue and white paper gown that is the trademark of an examination, sits with her back pushed up against the padded and tilted backing of the bed, her blonde hair a mess as it is tied back with a bandage wrapped around her head. Her hands house many small scrapes as they begin twirling their fingers over each other. Her eyes simply look directly forward as they seem to be searching for answers that aren’t there. Suddenly the serenity of the scene is disturbed as the large oak door at the side of the room is thrown open and the boy we saw identified as Phil in the scene earlier comes crashing in, wearing the same outfit as a few minutes earlier. His eyes are darting around the, before they come to rest on the woman in the bed, as she continues to look forward, not noticing her sudden guest in her state of shock.
Phil Brooks: Katie?
It takes the girl several blinks before she snaps herself back to reality. Turning her head to the side, she looks at the boy and has a small smile turn up the corners of her lips.
Katie Stevens: Phil.
Without thinking, Phil drops the door and rushes forward wrapping his arms around the girl and pulling her towards him and tight to his chest.
Phil Brooks: I’m so happy you’re alright, how are you feeling.
The girl’s voice comes out a little bit muffled with her mouth pressed up against the chest of her friend.
Katie Stevens: I’m a little sore Phil, I was in a car accident a few hours ago…
With a sudden look of shock spreading across the boys face, he moves her a few inches away from his face, letting the girl fall back, allowing her to let out a small sigh of relief in the process.
Phil Brooks: Oh my God, I’m so sorry…
The woman lets out a small laugh as her arms fall down to the bed again still looking a bit week.
Katie Stevens: It’s fine, just be a little more careful… alright?
Phil nods up and down.
Phil Brooks: Got it…
Dropping his hand down, he grabs onto the girl’s hand with his right, while the left drags behind him grasping for the chair and pulling it forward. Wrapping it around his backside he lets himself fall into the seat, keeping his eyes locked onto the girl in the bed. But as Brooks continues to stare at the girl, she raises an eyebrow, a small chuckle rumbling through her throat.
Katie Stevens: Phil, I’m not going to suddenly disappear.
The boy answers back with a smile.
Phil Brooks: I’m not taking any challenges.
As the girl blushes slightly, passing some color across her pale cheeks, she turns her face away. Brooks takes a quick beat to swallow and look down at the floor before beginning again, the playful tone gone from his voice.
Phil Brooks: What happened Katie?
Moving her eyes to the ceiling, Katie’s eyes seem to gloss over as she seems to move back to the incident that only happened a few moments earlier.
Katie Stevens: I don’t really know too much to tell you the truth…
She swallows, shaking her head slowly from side to side.
Katie Stevens: I remember leaving Bad Luck Fales party…
Phil leans forward, his hands resting on the bed with wild eyes behind them.
Phil Brooks: You weren’t drinking were you?
The girl rolls her eyes before looking over at him.
Katie Stevens: Come on Phil, I’m not stupid enough to drink and drive…
But as she falls back into the cushion of her pillow, her voice returns to its somber tone.
Katie Stevens: But the other guy… that may be a different story…
Brooks squints as he leans closer to her.
Phil Brooks: You were hit by a drunk driver?
With this, the scene suddenly fades to black.
