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Sunflowers |
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About Me Diaries Stories
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"The totally stupid soap opera in which nothing of any interest happens" Episode One - Oil
Theme music. Focus on a large tin of
sunflower oil in a small front garden. A hand comes down and hits the
top of it in annoyance. Pull back to see Gary glowering at the
tin. He turns round and stomps into the house. * A kitchen. Brenda is
sitting at the table, eating some sort of bran cereal and flicking
through a magazine. Enter Gary in a bad
mood. Gary: Brenda,
what the hell is that bloody tub of oil doing out there? Brenda: I
bought it. Gary: You
bought it? What do you mean, you bought it? What did you go and
buy all that for? What are we supposed to do with it? Brenda: (with
mouth full) Don’t know. Thought it might
come in handy. Gary: Come
in handy? For what? (Brenda shrugs) Jesus, woman, it’s been out
in the bloody garden for a week! Nobody’s touched it! Are you going to
start frying your microwave meals? Are the kids going to have fried
pizza? Are we meant to have baths in the stuff? What? Brenda: Nah.
I eats Weight Watchers meals, and you can’t fry them. It takes off
loads of points if you eats fried food. Gary: (about
to hit roof) So what is the bloody oil
for?! Brenda: It’s
one of those things you can never find when you need it. Gary: Well,
great, all our oil problems are over! Do you need any oil, Gary? No
thanks, Bob, my wife bought a great bloody tub of the stuff so I’ll
never need oil ever again! I can fry things any time I want! We
are never going to use that! Brenda: But
at least it’s there. Gary: What
is the matter with you? You’ve been like this ever since you got back
from Greece with that bloody friend of yours. You met some Greek waiter,
didn’t you? Brenda: I
didn’t meet any Greek waiter. Gary: How
could you not meet any Greek waiter in Greece? They’re all over the
place! Everyone in Greece is a Greek waiter! Brenda: Calm
down, Gary. I told you, he weren’t no Greek waiter, he were a
Portuguese tour rep, and I didn’t go near him. I couldn’t of if I
wanted to. Eliza were all over him the whole week. Gary: I
thought she was going out with that Aussie from Totterdown. Brenda: Oh,
yeah, she is, but her husband don’t know about that. Gary: She
still married? Brenda: Yeah.
He bought her a diamond necklace last week. You should’ve seen it,
Gar, would’ve blinded you on the spot, God knows how much he paid for
it. Gary: Do
he know about the Aussie? Brenda: No. Gary: What
about the tour rep? Brenda: It
weren’t just him. She reckoned she was gonna pull every bloke she
spoke to, and you know what, she did and all. Gary: So
what you gonna do with all this bleedin’ oil? Brenda: I
dunno. Something’ll probably come up. (she turns and yells up the
stairs) Nay! Oi, Nay! Naomi: (off)
What? Brenda: Get
down here! Naomi: (off)
Why? Brenda: Just
do what I tells you, girl! Naomi: (off)
But I don’t want to! Brenda: Nay,
get your ass down them stairs! Naomi: Aww,
Mum… Brenda: Naomi
‘arper, you get here now! The door opens and Naomi,
a sullen-looking eight-year-old, enters. Naomi: What? Brenda: You
been up in your room all bleedin’ day. Naomi: Yeah. Brenda: You
come and do some chores. Naomi: No. Brenda: You’ll
do as I tells you. Naomi: Why? Brenda: Because
I said so. Naomi: So? Brenda: Don’t
you sass me. Naomi: Why
not? Gary: Let
the kid off, Bren, it’s Saturday. Naomi: Yeah.
I like Dad better than you. Brenda: Don’t
be so bleedin’ rude. Naomi: You
started it. Gary: Get
summat to eat and go back upstairs, Nay. Your ma just don’t want to
talk about the bloody oil. Naomi: Yeah.
Why’s that there? Brenda: Go
to your room, Nay. Naomi
sticks her tongue out behind her mother’s back and leaves the room in
exaggerated stamps. Gary: Leave
the kid alone, Bren. Brenda: Shurrup,
Useless. Gary:
You’re gonna explain the oil. Brenda: No
I ain’t. Gary: Then
I’m off down the pub. Brenda: Fine.
But you gotta be back for when Sally and that come over. Gary: Ain’t
no way I’m coming back to see bloody Sally. Brenda: Fine.
But don’t throw up on the grass. Gary: Alright. Brenda: I
remembers what happened last time, Gar. I gets woke up at one in the
morning by this noise from the garden an’ there’s you retchin’
an’ staggerin’ about an’ singin’ bloody Everyfink I Do up
at the bleedin’ window. It’s the only time you gets bloody romantic,
when you comes back from the pub pissed. Not that it were bloody
romantic, you gets to the second verse and falls over in yer own puke.
Dunno what I’m gunna do with you, Useless. Gary: Oh,
leave off, Bren. If you can ponce round the kitchen singin’ bloody
Abba while you microwaves dinner I can sing bloody Bryan Adams when
I’m pissed. Brenda: I
don’t care what you sings. It’s the puking on the grass I hates.
It’s not like you bloody cleans it up. Gary: You
don’t either! You pays our Soph to do it. Brenda: Next
time you’re payin’ our Soph to do it. Gary: Fine. Brenda: And
how come you don’t sing at the window when you ain’t pissed? Gary: Eh? Brenda: You
never does anyfink romantic. Gary: I
can’t bloody sing, Bren. Jeez. You knows that. You used to slap me for
singin’ in the shower. Brenda: ‘S
cause you was singin’ bloody rubbish songs. Gary: They
weren’t rubbish! Brenda: They
was and all. Anyway, that ain’t the point. Gary: I
ain’t cut out for serenadin’, Bren. I can hire someone. Brenda: Naw,
don’t bother. Don’t you puke on the grass. Gary: I
won’t puke on the grass if you take that great bloody tub of oil off
it. Brenda: Leave
the oil alone, Gar! What’s the big deal? Gary: The
big deal is there’s a great bloody tub of oil out front! You won’t
tell me what the hell you bought it for and it’s getting’ on my
bleedin’ nerves! Bob come round yesterday and the first thing he says
is “Gar, what’s that great bloody tub of oil doing in yer garden?”
And I says “I dunno, Bob, Bren bought it and she left it out the
garden and she hasn’t done squat with it! She don’t know what it’s
for and she ain’t gonna bring it inside and you know what? She’s
still buyin’ normal bottles of oil!!!” Brenda: Calm
down, Gar, you’re goin’ a bit nuts. Gary: (ignoring
her) So she can’t want it for cookin’
cause she’s got bottles for that! What do you think, Bob? Do you
reckon she’s gonna have baths in it? Like Cleopatra if she was common?
What the hell is she gonna do with this bloody oil???!!! Brenda:
You know what? Gary: (breathless
and hysterical from rant) What? Brenda: I
don’t reckon you went on like that to our Bob. Cause if you did our
Bob would’ve punched ya and gone off. Gary: Shut
up, Bren. Exit Gary. Brenda: Bloody
men. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t kill ‘em. Nay! Naomi: (appearing
at kitchen door) Leave
I alone, Ma. Brenda: Don’t
be so rude, girl. Naomi: Dad
told ya to leave me alone. Go pick on our Soph or our Lee. Brenda: They
ain’t here. Naomi: Where’ve
they went? Brenda: Our
Soph’s over the road with her mate and our Liam’s with his girlie
somewhere. Naomi: I
hates our Liam’s girlfriend. Brenda: She
hates you too. Naomi: I
knows that. That’s why I hates her. Brenda: I
finks our Liam’s girlie hates everyone. Naomi: ‘Cept
our Liam. Brenda: Ya
reckon, do ya? Naomi: Don’t
be weird, Ma. Brenda: I’ll
do what I wants in me own house. You be nice for your aunt Sally
tonight. Naomi: I
ain’t gonna see Aunt Sally. You always takes her into the back room
and gets drunk with her. Brenda: Naomi,
be’ave. Naomi: It’s
true, innit? Dad says you slags off everyone with Aunt Sally. Brenda: Well,
your dad’s a rude man and you’re not to listen to him. Naomi: But
he don’t make me do chores. Brenda: I
knows that, and you see what a mess the house is? Naomi: So?
You reckon the Queen’s gunna drop in or summat? Brenda: No
I don’t. Cause then she’s ‘ave to talk to you. Go on girl, get.
Tea’s in an hour. Naomi: I
ain’t hungry. Brenda: You’re
gunna eat it anyway. Naomi: What
is it? Oil soup? Brenda: Have
you been talking to your dad again? Naomi: I
wants to know why we got all that oil. I wants to know why you made out
Lee lug it back ‘ome. Brenda: I
just wants it, alright? Naomi: For
what? You said you was on a diet. Brenda: It
ain’t for me. Naomi: Is
it cause you wants to grease up that Greek waiter? Brenda: What??? Naomi: That’s
what Dad said. Brenda: Nay,
I told you a hundred times, your dad’s a scumbag and you ain’t to
listen to a word he says. Naomi: That
ain’t what he says. Brenda: Well,
he wouldn’t say… Christ, girl, you’re dumb. Naomi: I
ain’t dumb. Brenda: You’s
dumb, girl, ain’t no two ways about it. I don’t care what your
bloody teachers says. Naomi: You
ain’t no genius neither, Mum. Brenda: Don’t
be rude, girl. Go on, get. Naomi: Fine.
I’ll be back for my oil soup later. Brenda: Naomi
‘arper… Exit Naomi. Enter Gary. Brenda: Back
so soon? Gary: I
ain’t gone nowhere yet. Brenda: I
knows that. Gary: I
knows you knows that. What are you tryin’ to make the poor girl eat
now? Brenda: You
makes it sound like I’m gunna poison her. Gary: You
did two weeks ago. Poisoned the lot of us. Brenda: I
did not. Naff off, Gar. Gary: Bloody
nightmare, that were. Brenda: Naff
off, Gar. Gary: No
wonder I were throwin’ up on the lawn. Brenda: Naff
off, Gar. Gary: Glad
to. I wants to be well shot of this place before bloody Sally shows up. Brenda: What
you got against Sal? Gary: You
two spends hours slagging me off. Brenda: We
slags off her bloke, too. Gary: So
what? I ‘eard you last time, goin’ on about socks. Always about
socks with you two, how men are so rubbish cause they lose their socks.
What is it with you and socks? Brenda: It
just come up in conversation. Gary: Oh
yeah. Brenda: Sal
‘ave a thing about her bloke and socks, and I joins in. So what?
You’s got a thing about that oil. Gary: But
you know what socks are for!!!! Brenda: Calm
down, Gar. Gary: Just
tell me why you bought the damn oil! Brenda: No
reason, really. Gary: No
reason?! You bought a 50-gallon tub of oil
for no reason?! Brenda: (calmly)
Yeah. Gary: What
the hell is wrong with you? Brenda: Nuffink. Gary: Normal
people don’t buy huge bloody great tubs of oil for no reason! Brenda: I
don’t see why not. Impulse buy. Gary: Impulse
buys are like clothes and junk food and CDs and…sofas and houses
and… TVs and… stuff. Impulse buys ain’t bloody great 50-gallon
tubs of bloody sunflower oil! Brenda: You
always said I weren’t like other girls. You said that’s why you
loved me. Gary: Huh? Brenda: You
said you reckoned everyone else were the same and I were different. Gary: That
were a line, you stupid woman! Brenda: Bloody
typical. Gary: Are
you tryin’ to tell me you bought that bloody great tub of oil cause
you didn’t want to be like everyone else? Brenda: Maybe,
spose. Gary: (bewildered
pause) I’m going down the pub. Don’t
poison the kids. Brenda: Shurrup,
Useless. Gary: Wait
til I tells Bob how lucky he got not finding no woman. Exit Gary. Brenda: (to
herself) I dunno why I needs a reason to
buy a tub of oil. I just fought I wanted it. I dunno why I has to
explain it to Useless and the kids. It’s just a tub of oil, innit? Enter Gary with the tub of
sunflower oil. He plonks it down on the kitchen table. Gary: Sort
it out, Bren. I ain’t having this thing hangin’ round forever. Do
summat with it or get rid of it. Brenda looks at it. Brenda: Put
it on the floor, Gar. Gary: Why? Brenda: Just
do it. Gary puts the tin on the
floor, after a bit of a struggle. Brenda: There. Gary: What? Brenda: You’re
always sayin’ how we needs more places to sit. Gary:
I ain’t sittin’ on no tub of oil! Brenda: Ain’t
a lot else we can do with it. It’s a great bloody tub of oil. Gary: What
did you plan to do with it when you bought it? Brenda: Nuffink.
I just knowed if I didn’t buy it I’d need it for summat. Gary: Like
what??? Brenda: You
never know, do ya? Gary: One
day, Bren, I’m gunna buy summat bloody stupid an’ useless, an’
I’ll leave it hangin’ around for ages. An’ when you asks me what
it’s for, I’ll say, “I dunno. Fought it might come in handy.
Impulse buy. If I ‘adn’t a got it, I’d a needed it.” Brenda: What
you gunna get? Gary: Ummm…
(inspiration strikes) Cat litter! I’ll buy a huge great bloody
bag of cat litter! Brenda: Why?
We ain’t got no cat. Gary: I
know! But it might come in handy! If we don’t get it, we’ll need it! Brenda: Don’t
talk daft, Gar. Gary makes a strangled noise
of frustration and stomps out.
*
*
*
*
* Later. Gary is walking up the
road to his house just before sunset. As he reaches the front gate a
strange expression comes over his face. * The kitchen. Brenda is sat
at the table, eating some rice concoction and flicking through a
magazine. Enter Gary in a bad mood,
carrying something unseen. Gary: I
goes to the pub, I has a few drinks, I comes home, and what does I find?
Not only that great bloody 50-gallon tub of oil, but also a great big
bloody sack of kitty litter! He produces said big bloody
sack of kitty litter. Brenda: You
said it might come in handy. Gary: I
was being sarcastic!!! Brenda: Was
ya? You should’ve said so then. Gary: What?? Brenda: You
shouldn’t tell me to go buy kitty litter if ya don’t mean it, Gar. Gary: I
didn’t tell you to go and buy a great bloody bag of kitty
litter!!! Brenda: You
did and all. Gary: You
know what? I’m going back down the pub. Brenda: What
do you want to do with the kitty litter? Gary: (makes
exasperated noises) Brenda: I
knows you didn’t tell me to get bloody kitty litter, Gar. You was just
gettin’ right up my nose. Gary: You
drives me nuts, you. Brenda: Yeah, right back at ya and all. |