1: LISTEN UP
MAN 1speaks to the audience – out of time.
MAN 1.Time… can be a blisteringly fast thing, where in the blink of an eye – ten years are gone from your life, but the next week is agony.
It’s like you look at your watch, and instead of a face – it’s a calendar and it flips.
But then you look out the window… and it takes all day for the sun to go down…
I’ve always wanted to tell someone that.
A PRISON GUARDspeaks to the audience.
GUARD. LISTEN UP!
I mean, you all should already know this, but I’ll say it again.
No photography, no phone calls, nopagers.
For Chrissakes, just nothing that fuckingbeeps.
No matter how many times you’ve heard this, therealways seems to be one.
And let’s hope you went to the bathroom out in the lobby.
’Cause now that you’re in here, that’s fucking it. You gotta piss, cross your legs.
No cookies, no candies with crinkly-ass wrappers, no chicken chow mein.
Why would youeat in here? Eat athome.
No cigarettes, no crack cocaine, no needles, no drugs, no teddy bears.
If you want a female officer for the final pat-down, I don’t have any free today, so try next week.
JACKIE. Excuse me?
GUARD. All visitors will dressappropriately.
Women, for the love of God, will wear abra.
JACKIE (to the audience). Did – did he just check if I am? – thefuck?
GUARD. But no bras with underwire, as you may not pass the final metal detector.
Nothing hoochie, nothing with writing – sexual, sarcastic, political, or otherwise.
Visitor last Monday took his sweater off to reveal a T-shirt that said:
‘Surely noteverybody was kung fu fighting.’
I’m not sure what that coded message means, but it wasn’t funny, and humor has no place on a shirt.
(To JACKIE.) No pens, no paper.
JACKIE. – sorry, but we-we have special permission from the warden –
GUARD. You don’t.
JACKIE. I – Sorry – I-I think we do.
The GUARDtakes JACKIE’s notebook, rips paper out, hands the paper back, keeps the metal binding.
GUARD. No metal.
Okay! You will proceed into your assigned visiting booth, until your Death Row inmate is bro
