“Lucky Bastards” was written as a response to Sibyl O’Malley’s performance score “Bull” and published in “Exchange Rate: 2008” (USA: Elana Mann & Roman Jaster, 2009)
Here is a short excerpt from the very beginning of the script:
Characters
Euro Chick – restless, emotionally unstable, and Eastern
Euro Dude – spoiled, cynical, and Western
D. – old, white, rich, male, and American
C. – old, white, rich, male, and American
ACT I
In darkness the bull exhales. It shifts its weight, sixteen hundred pounds on wood floorboards. The rattling of a metal chain – the bull is penned and waiting.
The roar of the crowd, drunk with need, is audible from somewhere far away.
Enter Chick. She looks around excitedly and whispers over her shoulder.
CHICK. Oh, come on! Don’t shit your pants. There’s nobody in here. It’s perfectly safe. Look!
She does a little tap dancing number. The bull nervously moos in darkness. Chick shrugs and friezes. Somewhere from the darkness:
DUDE. Stop it! Are you out of your fucking mind! Get out of there! Let’s just get fucking out of here!
CHICK. Oh… So there’s a bull somewhere near here. So what? It’s a rodeo backstage. What did you expect? Fucking pedigree poodles licking your feet?
DUDE. How would I know what to expect? I’ve never been anywhere like this shit before! But I can tell you what I don’t expect. I definitely don’t expect to get trampled even before getting to our seats, right?
CHICK. We don’t have any seats! Remember, you daft idiot? We’re here undercover… infiltrating the showbiz…
DUDE. Supporting animal slaughter, you mean.
CHICK. Oh, for fuck’s sake, man! Don’t be such a whim! I bet these animals suffer no more than a tiny scratch here and there. It’s the wranglers who put themselves in real danger. Even you cannot shed tears over wranglers, can you?
DUDE. Why not? Wranglers are also human.
The bull shifts its weight.
CHICK. Just stop philosophizing and get your ass in here, will you? You’re getting under this beast’s skin.
DUDE. I prefer that to getting under its feet.
CHICK. Oh, yes, of course, it’s always about you, isn’t it? You fucking dimwit! What about me? Have you ever thought about me? ‘Cause if it still hasn’t dawned upon you, I’m the one standing by a two thousand pound bull while you’re winging here like some pathetic miss.
DUDE. Can you see it?
CHICK. What?
DUDE. The bull.
CHICK. No! I’m telling you: it’s perfectly safe here. The bull’s probably well locked in some special bull cage or something.
DUDE. How do you know its weight then?
CHICK. I don’t! It just sounds like it weights a lot.
DUDE. And that’s perfectly safe to you, isn’t it?
CHICK. Oh, just stop… Look… Darling, could you, please, stop deliberating and come here to me?
DUDE. No! It’s not safe. It’s not right. It’s got nothing to do with me… or you. What’s in it for you, anyway?
CHICK. The thrill! The excitement! Don’t you follow? It’s a show not to be missed. It’s an absolute fucking must see. It’s making history! Even you don’t want to miss that, trust me.
DUDE. But it feels so awkward… so foreign… so not me…
CHICK. So that’s it then, isn’t it? You’re not coming. After everything we’ve been through, you’re leaving me here… alone.
DUDE. What do you mean “after everything”? We’ve just happened to be on the same road for a while.
CHICK. For ages, you ignorant sissy! We’ve been on the same bloody road for fucking ages! We’ve been robbed, chased, persecuted. We’ve been driven apart and pulled together. We’ve spent lifetimes shoulder to shoulder on that same fucking road.
DUDE. Oh, come on, it’s not like it was our choice, is it? It was a mere chance…
CHICK. OK, OK! It was one random fatal fat chance if you like it. Now be brave, show some initiative – fuck off!
Beat.
Chick listens in suspense for a moment. Nothing happens. She sighs and starts strolling around in darkness. She stumbles over something.
CHICK. Ouch! Ooh! What the fuck?
Enter Dude running to her rescue.
DUDE. What? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?
