Monologue
The Little Monsters — Gooey
Alan Bowne
Gooey: (Chain-smoking; foot twitching; rocking; new gum) No, it was on the subway that I knew for sure. Going uptown to Hertz? About the atmosphere. Here today in New York. I was sitting on the I R T uptown local staring at a picture on the door in front of me. There was this “Grotty Eddie 183” written in black ink over the door and on the door was this painting of Mickey Mouse. (Beat) With a syringe in his. His hand his mitten you know? It was not a master-piece but it was eyecatchy. Every time there was a stop the doors opened and it disappeared. So you got into the habit. Of watching Mickey Mouse. Appear and disappear. I mean, you know those schwartzers who run the subways? They stop the train at a stop and then sit there for three hours? And they open the doors? And then close the doors. Then they open the doors? Then close the doors. Then open then close (No pause; a sudden burst of ferocity) WHO ARE THEY WAITIN FOR, MAHALIA JACKSON???? (Beat; abruptly calm, rocking and musing) So anyway. There’s this picture of Mickey Mouse with a hypo syringe and I am watching it come and go. The syringe seems to be filled with what looked like to me? Like Haagen-Daaz pistachio ice cream. It made absolutely. No. Sense. (Beat) It was an omen of ill-repute (No pause) now I do not think. That Maurice. Would bait his hook with a shot of Honduras. For some amateur. (Shakes head) Too risky. Not her style. But Maurice did know. Where every scrap of shit. Was. In this apartment. She would find the dirt. She would. And she would hide it and eventually. The police will find it. Which is a big pity because they will cut it with chicklets and give it to their wives and brats for Labor Day (No pause; checking watch) you got maybe five minutes. (Beat) So the question would be. If we had the time to consider it. Is did Maurice. Hide each packet separately or empty all the packets. Say, Into her salt shaker. Or into her douche bag? Or some shit. This is the question if we had the time.