Scene: A bare stage except for an evil-looking dark chair with a high back, something like an Egyptian pharaoh’s throne but simple, center stage.

(HOSS enters.)

HOSS: Song: “Anything I Say Can and Will Be Used Against You”

ANYTHING I SAY CAN AND WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU

People tell me I look like hell

Well I am hell

I got a torture chamber orchestra

At the Delirium Hotel

I got an hallucination rattlesnake

To twist my skill through

You’re my friend

But I’m gonna kill you

Somebody’s got to monitor all this darkness darkness darkness

Somebody’s got to locate the bomb dot com

Somebody’s got to break out through the night so starless starless starless

Those who would overthrow the status quo

Soul like smoke hole in the sky

Gotta cry gotta cry gotta go gotta go gotta go

Target Arab chic MK ultra satellite blowup

Kill the pain let it rain let it rain

I will disengage your mastery
Until all you love is blasphemy
Then I’ll break in through your idiocy
And twist your desire hideously
And when you’re the object of complete derision
I’ll make you a star on television
Then if you want fame at a greater strength
Speak to my girl Friday the thirteenth

Got no background
Got no files
Crawl through the cable black op ground zero no flight zone
All alone all alone all alone

This is a story which is based on a true story
Which is based on a lie

Don’t jack with me Sahib
I’m history
Don’t jack with me Lucille
I’m gone
I’m gone
I’m gone

(BECKY enters.)

BECKY: Choogin, Hoss. Choogin. The short is online. Wanna peek at the toys?

HOSS: Yeah, let’s have a look. Jeweler check ’em out?

BECKY: Clean and blue. Gave his little stomp of approval. You know how he gits.

(BECKY lays out the “weapons” on the floor: Strange-looking devices; weird mixture of swords, guitar necks, microphones, CBs, pistols, etc.)

HOSS: Merc’s set?

BECKY: Greased, lubed, and banging on all eight. Chaser slammed it up to 180 on the old Ventura Freeway. Said she didn’t bark once.

HOSS: Yeah. About time he quit them quarter-mile bursts. That double-throat’s gotta git time to blow out. Holley made that carburetor back then for a reason. Old-time but it still hauls ass.

BECKY: No question there.

HOSS: Chaser fit?

BECKY: I don’t gumbo with Chaser. You know that. He keeps to his own self.

HOSS: You watch him don’t ya? Observe?

BECKY: I seen him chase his bacon around the plate with a fork this mornin. Asked him if that’s where he copped his handle.

HOSS: So, how’s he movin?

BECKY: Same.

HOSS: Did he look inclined to Boogie?

BECKY: He’s always got the horns on for Road Rankin, you know that.

HOSS: Then we’re good to go?

BECKY: I’d best check the Chart Man if I was you, Hoss. The Gazer.

HOSS: How’s that.