Cover

Title page

Original Production

NSFW was first performed at the Royal Court Jerwood Theatre Downstairs, London, on 25 October 2012. The cast was as follows:

Characters

CHARLOTTE, twenty-five

RUPERT, twenty-eight

SAM, twenty-four

AIDAN, early forties

MR BRADSHAW, late forties

MIRANDA, late forties/early fifties

Note on Text

A forward slash indicates interrupted speech.

A comma on its own line indicates a beat; a silence shorter than a pause, or a shift in thought or rhythm.

Thanks

I would like to thank Simon Godwin, Dominic Cooke, Mel Kenyon and Ed Hime. There are also a number of people who generously gave of their time, knowledge and experience who do not want to be named, but they know who they are and I thank them too.

L.K.

This text went to press before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

1.

The editor’s office of Doghouse magazine, a weekly publication for young men. The magazine’s name appears in neon on the wall. Beyond the door, an open-plan office.

There is a pool table, a fridge of drinks. A dartboard. The editor’s desk has a desktop Apple computer on it. There are framed prints of topless photo shoots on the walls. A cricket bat in the corner. An enormous Liverpool FC flag strung from the ceiling. The pool table is strewn with toys and gadgets and computer games that the magazine has reviewed or is reviewing.

CHARLOTTE, a middle-class girl from outside of London who now lives in Tooting, is sitting on a chair, a folder in her lap, furiously writing notes. She has other files on the floor which she consults from time to time.

RUPERT, an upper-class boy from Berkshire who now lives in Hoxton, watches her. Bored, he yawns, looks about the office. Wanders over to the pool table and gives it a kick.

RUPERT. When I first started here, we used to play on that all the time.

This place has gone to the fucking dogs.

He sits down on the floor at CHARLOTTE’s feet.

Scratch my head.

Without looking away from her work, or stopping writing, CHARLOTTE reaches a hand out and scratches RUPERT’s head. He groans in pleasure.

SAM, a working-class, university-educated boy from outside of London who now lives in Archway, enters, juggling a cardboard tray of coffees. He’s sweaty and frantic.

SAM. Am I late? Is he here?

CHARLOTTE takes one of the coffees. RUPERT takes another.

CHARLOTTE. He’s in a meeting with finance. Running late.

SAM. There was this woman in Starbucks, and she couldn’t make up her mind, she kept saying ‘There’s so much choice, isn’t there!’ and laughing, / I nearly –

CHARLOTTE. Sam? Calm down.