TIMP startles slightly, turns and notices BENNY on top of the fridge.
TIMP. Oh ’ello.
BENNY. What happened in here then?
TIMP. What do you mean?
BENNY. The balloons.
TIMP. Party.
BENNY. Oh really. (Beat.) Laura here?
TIMP. No – why?
BENNY. Who’s the other cup for?
TIMP. Oh – this? Cam.
BENNY. He up?
TIMP. Yeah – rehearsing. What you doing up on the / (Notices that the cupboard has been opened and is half-cleared out.)
BENNY. I thought I’d /
TIMP. Should have fucking been here last night, Benny-boy!
BENNY. Funny being up here at this height.
TIMP. Pirate party for the new intake!
BENNY. It’s end of term.
TIMP. Prospective students, looking around, open day – fresher than freshers.
BENNY. Feels like you can control everything.
TIMP. Fresh meat, Benny!
BENNY puts his hands out as if he is conducting the kitchen.
BENNY. I’m magic, see; I’m making your tea turn into steam.
TIMP. Well, stop it – I’ll come and tell ya all about it, one sec.
BENNY keeps his hands out, trying to move the objects of the room about.
As TIMP goes out the door slams behind him. The noise wakes up CAM who bangs his head on the bottom of the table. BENNY is startled, thinking he has done it.
CAM. Whathafuareyouwhyisthe.
BENNY. Cam?
CAM crawls out from under the table, looks woozily around the place.
CAM. Oh fuck.
BENNY. Aren’t you rehearsing?
CAM. Fuck off. What time is it?
BENNY. Elevenish.
CAM. Oh fuck.
TIMP re-enters holding just one cup of tea and sees CAM – a beat whilst TIMP creates his story.
TIMP. There you bloody are.
TIMP hands CAM the cup of tea.
CAM (befuddled). Cheers.
BENNY. Where’s yours?
TIMP. What?
BENNY. Tea?
CAM. You want this?
TIMP. Drank it.
BENNY. But you were –
CAM. Don’t fancy it; too hot.
CAM hands BENNY the tea.
Why you on the /
BENNY (takes the tea). Thanks.
CAM. Anyone got any idea what I did with my /
TIMP. You seen the kiddiewink this morning?
CAM. What?
TIMP. The old ankle-biter.
CAM. No.
CAM sees that the cupboard is open and that it has been half unpacked, he stops in his tracks.
Oh.
CAM stops and looks at the cupboard.
BENNY. I thought I’d /
TIMP. I regret to inform you, Benny-boy, that you may have missed what was almost certainly the best party of the year last night.
BENNY. Again. What time is the concert, Cam?
CAM. Later.
TIMP. You’re right – now I think about it all the very great parties happen when you are very not being there and it is deeply suspicious.
BENNY. You alright?
TIMP. Yeah.
CAM pulls his violin out from under a pile of rubbish – a smiley face has been drawn on it in squirty cream.
CAM. Oh, for fuck’s sake.
TIMP. Oh dear.
CAM. Most important concert of my life and I’m going to smell like a fucking yogurt.
BENNY. What is wrong with you?
TIMP. Why nothing, kind sir, could I interest you in a beverage?
CAM. Are you...? Oh – yeah – right.
BENNY. What?
CAM. I was meant to remind you that you put your E in your aspirin bottle last night.
TIMP. Did I?
CAM. One of the girl’s rape alarms went off; you thought it was the police – you put all your drugs into your painkillers.
TIMP. Oh fuck – I’m high.
BENNY. You didn’t notice?
TIMP. Yep – yep – now I come to think of it – yep that is what this feeling is.
TIMP clips CAM round the ear.
CAM. Ow.
TIMP. Course I fucking know I’m high, you mutant ninja retard; couldn’t be arsed with a hangover – that’s all – besides I’m highly entertaining when I’m highly high. (Searches around on the table and picks up two more tablets.) Anyone else?
CAM goes to take one.
BENNY. Cam?
CAM. What?
BENNY. You’re playing violin in front of three thousand people and a fuck-ton of TV cameras in about five hours.
...