Cut Snake

Dan Giovannoni, Amelia Evans

• Publisher: Currency Press
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781925210040
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Drama
• Index: Literature

Kiki, Bob and Jumper are best friends with extravagant and idiosyncratic dreams. Kiki wants to dance the tango on Mount Kilimanjaro with a bearded lady, Jumper is in love with a snake called Trix and Bob's an ordinary bloke who might just hold the secret to time travel. Join them for the wild ride.Cut Snake is a comedy about growing up, dying young, and being extraordinary no matter what.

THE START

We’re in a dark and smoky cabaret lounge—a dimly lit underground wonderland. The NARRATOR takes to the stage, steps up to the microphone and draws a quiet breath. He eyeballs the audience…

Narrator (J) Ladies, gentlemen and all those in between. Please put one hand like this…

He holds up his left hand.

And another like this.

And his right…

And smack them together over and over for our opening act—Kiki Coriander and Trix the snake!

KIKI and TRIX perform their one-woman, one-snake cabaret, a high-energy double-act. They swing and roll and twirl.

BOB walks through the audience.

Bob Excuse me. Excuse me.

He find finds his way to the side of the stage. He motions to KIKI and she stops dancing.

He whispers the terrible news to her. She falls. JUMPER catches her, then puts her to her feet. She looks at BOB.

We jump back in time to the moment of the bus crash.

THE BUS CRASH

JUMPER is on a rickety old bus, heading into the mountains. He’s feeling a little queasy.

Behind him, the other PERFORMERS are also on the bus—rickety and wild.

Jumper Don’t ever let people tell you that getting out of bed and taking life by the balls helps cure a hangover… If you get out of bed, your hangover takes you by the balls and before you know it, the most important bus trip of your entire European adventure is compromised.

This might look like a fail—’cause I’m hung-over, again, with nothing to show for it except drunken photos in hostel bars. But this is actually a win. Because I’m going somewhere. I don’t know where, but it’s important. A Historical Site Of Some Sort. I bought a ticket. From a guy with a red hat. The bus came, we all got on. And even though right now all I want to do is get off and have a little nap in that bush over there… I need to suck it up. Pull it together. Because there will be something worth writing in this journal—I will remember something from this trip other than the taste of vomit in my mouth. I’m going to own it. I’m going to ride the waves of this hangover and own it. Yes, world. I am on a bus. Right now, I am on. A. Bus.

All three perform a movement piece inspired by the events of the bus crash.

The bus heads into the mountains. Tiny roads and sheer cliffs. We get to the top of this little rise, and before I can see what’s on the other side, this mangy dog runs in front us. We swerve—’cause we don’t want to hit him. Except we do hit him, and then we hit a tree. And then we go through the tree and through the metal road barrier, and the bus does this wicked little tumble over the edge of the cliff and smacks its head on a rock.

Then we roll. We’re rolling. The woman in front of me dives on top of her kids but she misses them, and they get lost amongst smoke and bags and other bodies. I go to shove my journal under my hoodie, but because I let go of the seat I’m thrown headfirst into the wall, and my neck snaps. The windows smash, there’s glass everywhere, and screaming. We’re being tossed around like little chunks of meat, flesh ripping open. We roll, we’re rolling, and when we finally hit the bottom…

JUMPER braces for impact—KIKI and BOB smash into him. They all turn out and see…

… the whole bus bursts into flames.

THE TELLING 1

KIKI and BOB sit on the roof of the cabaret lounge, the night sky before them. They dangle their feet over the edge, and watch the space between them and the sky.

Kiki When did it happen?

Bob 8:23 p.m. our time, 10:23 a.m. in Croatia. A Tuesday…

Kiki Is that his journal?

Bob His mum gave it to me; she though...