The Morning After

May 3, 2018
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     A pharmacy, early morning. Its windows are completely shattered, surroundings ruined. Lights on a bleary college STUDENT blinking himself awake. He is only half-dressed, remaining clothes comically torn, and is surrounded by toppled medicine bottles, broken glass, and gossip mags. An empty beer bottle is clenched in his fist. 

    A weathered POLICEMAN enters and strides towards the STUDENT without a word.

STUDENT: (desperately) This isn’t what -

POLICEMAN: Hands.

     After a moment, the STUDENT reluctantly sticks out both hands and is handcuffed. This should be slow but thorough and deliberate; the only sound is the clinking of locks and chains. The POLICEMAN helps him up and starts leading him out. The STUDENT tries again.

STUDENT: It really isn’t - 

POLICEMAN: Of course not.

STUDENT: I mean, I - 

POLICEMAN: I’m sure.

STUDENT: No, you don’t - 

POLICEMAN:I already know. 

STUDENT: (frustrated) You can’t possibly - 

POLICEMAN: (abruptly) You were drunk?

STUDENT: Why - yes, I -

POLICEMAN: Out with friends?

STUDENT: Yes, in fact - 

POLICEMAN: Final exams over?

STUDENT: They are, and - 

POLICEMAN: Things got rowdy?

STUDENT: (hopeful and excited) Yes! How did - 

POLICEMAN: (long-suffering) No.

STUDENT: ...what?

POLICEMAN: Not hearing it.

STUDENT: (crestfallen) What? But I - 

POLICEMAN: No.

STUDENT: (after a brief silence; resigned) ...okay.

     Blackout as STUDENT is bundled into a police cruiser.






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