The Removalists

David Williamson

• Publisher: Currency Press
• Year: 2012
• eBook ISBN: 9781921428630
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Drama
• Index: Literature

A young policeman's first day on duty becomes a violent and highly charged initiation into law enforcement. Remarkable for its blend of boisterous humour and horrifying violence, the play has acquired a reputation as a classic statement on Australian authoritarianism.

ACT TWO

If an intermission is required it can be taken here. If not, slides of the family life of ROSS and FIONA can be shown. ROSS with his proud family in his uniform, ROSS with Marilyn at last year’s company ball. FIONA with KENNY and the babies, KATE holding Fiona’s baby, etc., as the scene is now Kenny’s and Fiona’s flat. The time is six-thirty that evening. FIONA is ironing in preparation for the shift. A large stack of cardboard boxes, in which she will pack small articles, are nearby. There is a bash on the door and KENNY comes in, singing boisterously, carrying half a dozen beer bottles under his arm. FIONA looks up in alarm. KENNY goes to her and gives her a long gropey kiss, which he evidently enjoys more than she does.

FIONA: [edgy] What are you doing home?

KENNY: Well, that’s a lovely welcome. I do live here, don’t I?

FIONA: You don’t usually come home on Friday nights.

KENNY: Unpredictable. That’s part of my charm. [He looks at her.] What’s wrong with you?

FIONA: Nothing.

KENNY: Well, how about a bit of a smile, then?

FIONA tries a weak smile.

KENNY: Christ. If that’s the best you can do, I’m going to watch the box.

He takes his bottles across to the couch, puts them down, flops down himself, reaches for the remote control and switches on the television. He watches for a couple of seconds, then turns around to FIONA.

Chuck us the bottle opener.

FIONA goes to a drawer in the kitchen.

And a glass.

She takes a bottle opener out of the drawer and reaches for a glass. She hesitates.

FIONA: Er… I… er… wasn’t expecting you home, so I haven’t cooked any tea. Why don’t you go and have a counter tea with the boys?

KENNY: Just knock us up a quick steak or somethin’. [Irritated] Where’s that bloody opener?

FIONA takes him the glass and the opener.

FIONA: Why don’t you go and have a counter tea with the boys?

KENNY: [looking at her with irritation] I said knock us up a steak.

FIONA: I can’t. I’m ironing.

KENNY has another drink and watches the television for a second. He gets up and moves across to FIONA, who irons nervously.

KENNY: My God. You are ironing. Something must be wrong. [He picks up something she has ironed.] My God. [Looking at the ironing she has done] Don’t notice anything of mine here, but I shouldn’t complain. It’s amazin’ to even see you with an iron in your hand. Last time you ironed one of my shirts was two days before we were married.

FIONA: Why don’t you go off and have a counter tea with the boys?

KENNY: [angrily] What is this? Are you tryin’ to get rid of me? A bloke decides to do the right thing and come home to his missus and he’s no sooner in the door than you’re tryin’ to get rid of him. [Suddenly suspicious] Are you on with some other bloke? Is that why you want to get rid of me?

FIONA: Of course not.

KENNY moves across and rummages through a pile of washing nearby.

KENNY: Hey! Whose underpants are these?

FIONA: They’re yours.

KENNY: [belligerent, suspicious] They are not mine.

FIONA: Don’t be so stupid.

KENNY: [taking the underpants across to FIONA] They’re not even my size.

FIONA: [looking] Yes they are. They’re thirty-fours.

KENNY: Is that my size?

FIONA nods and goes back to her ironing. KENNY still looks suspicious. He unbuttons his pants and pulls the tag on his present underpants into view.

[Triumphantly] These are thirty-sixes!

FIONA: [wearily] They’re the pair your mother brought you.

KENNY: [deflated] Aw.

KENNY buttons up his pants and goes back to the television. He watches it for a few seconds then turns around.

Knock us up a bit of steak, love.

FIONA: [edgy] Go and have a counter tea.

KENNY: [getting up and moving to her, roaring] Get out into the kitchen, open the fridge, get out a piece of sliced cow and put it under the griller, you lazy bitch.

FIONA: [adamantly] Go and have a counter tea.

KENNY: [shaky] No. You haven’t got any man comin’ in. It’s just that you’re too bloody lazy. That’s what it is. Bloody slut. [He sees the stack of cardboard boxes.] What’s these?

FIONA: [nervously] Boxes.

KENNY: [roaring] I can see that, you dumb twit. [He kicks them, scattering them over the room.] What are they bloody well here for? As if we haven’t got enough mess already. What’re they here for?

FIONA: [nervously] The… er… supermarket was getting rid of them. I thought they might come in handy.

KENNY: Handy for what?

FIONA: [thinking] For Sophie to play with.

KENNY: You’re joking.

FIONA: She’ll build houses and things with them.

KENNY: She’ll rip ’em to bits like she ripped me bloody car manual.

FIONA: That was over a year ago.

KENNY: [aggrieved] They’re out of print now. E.H. manuals. Can’t get your hands on one for love nor money. Where is the little bugger?

FIONA: [nervously] She’s over at my mother’s.

KENNY: [indignantly] That old bitch has always got her.

FIONA: She hasn’t had her for a fortnight.

KENNY: I was going to have a bit of a play.

FIONA: I’m sorry.

KENNY: I always have a wrestle with her when I get home.

FIONA: [blowing up] You’re never home on a Friday.

KENNY: That old bitch does nothing but pump the poor kid full of social graces.

FIONA: Don’t be stupid.

KENNY: Last time she was over there, when she came home she was running around saying, ‘Thank you. Please’,...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Table of Contents
• Copyright Page
• Playwright’s Biography
• First Production
• Characters
• The Removalists
• Act Two