A Pacifist's Guide to the War on Cancer

Bryony Kimmings, Brian Lobel, Tom Parkinson

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2016
• Print ISBN: 9781786820600
• eBook ISBN: 9781786820617
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

An all-singing, all-dancing celebration of ordinary life and death. Single mum Emma confronts the highs and lows of life with a cancer diagnosis; that of her son and of the real people she encounters in the daily hospital grind. Groundbreaking performance artist Bryony Kimmings creates fearless theatre to provoke social change, looking behind the poster campaigns and pink ribbons at the experience of serious illness.

Part 1

In the black out, a voiceover.

BRYONY: (Voiceover.) Hi it’s Bryony Kimmings. Welcome to the theatre. A room full of people who have cancer, who have had cancer, who have lost people to cancer and who will get cancer in the future.

I know, heavy right.

Here’s a question. Why don’t we talk about illness and death more? You personally might, congratulations, but as a society we suck at it, and this has ramifications in how we medicate, treat and talk to people.

How could you make a show about illness and death without risking no one coming? Well, the language surrounding cancer is weird. Fierce battles, Brave Warriors. Inspirational survivors. It all sounds like what you say to sick people if you are really uncomfortable with talking honestly about illness.

So it would be best to make a show about cancer that DIDN’T do any of that. And so it wasn’t boring or depressing… we would make it into a nutty weirdo of a musical.

Music begins.

Lights up.

Smokey back light comes on.

Let’s follow a single mum’s cancer story; broke and a bit dappy and, of course, hasn’t seen this coming…

EMMA steps into the backlight.

Part 1. Meet Emma on a Tuesday.

Front light up. EMMA stands with a baby carrier on her front and a letter in her hand. She wears a watch, carries a bag and wears bright red shoes.

EMMA: (Singing, almost absentmindedly to herself or the baby.)
In a moment I’ll wake up
We’ll be playing in the garden
In a moment we’ll be fine
And today won’t be a hard one

In a moment little bones
Won’t be the stuff of little x-rays…

Suddenly she cuts herself off as she looks at her watch. The band falters. It’s funny.

EMMA: FUCK! I hate rush hour. We can’t be late! Come on. Fingers Crossed!

She hurries off, pissed off with herself. Music begins and people flood the stage on their way to work.

Fingers Crossed

Good morning world
What a mediocre day
I hope that nothing happens ’til
I’m headed back this way

Excuse me miss
Could you move your bag
It’s just it’s taking up the seat
I’ve missed three trains to nab

Hello shop-keep
I’ll never catch your name
I’ll have my usual paper, fags
And can of Coke again

Nice to see you mate
I can’t stop to talk

I’m busy faking being busy
Cue determined walk

Everything is fine
I mustn’t moan, I mustn’t moan
I could be dying of that cancer in a bed alone
Don’t think about statistics, never trust TV
I’ll just focus on the person’s shoes in front of me

As I board this train
I push my panic down
I won’t let you see anxiety
Just read and frown

Get out the way
I’ve got to get to school
Then the vets and the dry cleaners
And the swimming pool

Excuse me please
Could you take my pram?
You are such a strapping lad
And living legend of a man

Please get out the way
This isn’t fun
I’m so busy, fucking busy
Cue determined run!

Everything is fine
I mustn’t moan, I mustn’t moan
I could be dying of that cancer in a bed alone
Don’t think about statistics, never trust TV
I’ll just focus on the mobile phone in front of me

Fingers crossed, make a wish
What gruesome game of chance is this?
Cross your chest, count one in three
And pray it doesn’t grow in me

Why won’t he call?
He doesn’t like me back
I bet he’s swiping right already
On his dating app

I’m super duper stressed
Could it get any worse?
I think I literally just might have
Made a blood vessel burst

Right that’s it
Not going in today
I know I’m due to get
The sack this morning anyway

Nice to see you babe
I can’t leave this queue
I’ve got the moany groany
Grumble version of the flu

Everything is fine
I mustn’t moan, I mustn’t moan
I could be dying of that cancer in a bed alone
Don’t think about statistics, never trust TV
I’ll just focus on the mobile phone in front of me

Fingers crossed, make a wish
What gruesome game of chance is this?
Cross your chest, count one in three
And pray it doesn’t grow in me

ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME ME

GIA: Excuse me sorry
Can you repeat that please?
I don’t think I can quite
Exactly what you mean

LAURA: Is there any news?
I c...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Characters
• Part 1
• Part 2
• Part 3