1
Gentlemen like us
a monologue
Int. medium wide shot.
Darkly lit, atmospheric, only shadows in the background. A man sat a table which is covered in dark cloth. There is a table lamp to his right which is the only source of light.
The man is dressed in an evening suit and passing a deck of cards between his hands, shuffling them and splitting them. He deals himself a hand, picks them up and briefly scans them before putting them back down again. He then picks up the deck and begins shuffling them again.
‘Would you like to know a little about me? Would you find that interesting? A total stranger confessing to his crimes? Already, I sense your anticipation. And yet, you know not of what crimes I wish to confess to. Doesn’t that in itself make you feel just a little uncomfortable? And how do you think it makes me feel? Recounting what happened on those occasions and why I felt compelled to continue in my activity. Maybe, you are not the first whose ears have had to endure that which makes me such an unacceptable pariah of society, the One with a name that carries with it a mantle of shame.
I cannot confess or unburden my heart anymore than I already have throughout all these years as my crimes went unpunished. But, it is true, my heart beats to a different kind of rhythm than other, normal…people. And when it begins to thump in that highly erratic and unpredictable way, my mid surrenders and begins to gorge itself on its undisciplined appetite and just as I think…Ah!...I think I begin to reveal too much and I would have you judge me on what you hear and not on what you feel. For at times, our passions can run like the tide of a fast rising river and move upon those unseen currents with far more ease than we could hope to swim in. And, as a result, we cling to anything that would help us take a few more tasteless breaths of our worthless lives. Sooner or later, my friends, that tide will engulf us all. Those who have sinned and those who have been sinned against. We are all gathered on the same raft, held together by a few strands of hemp blessed with hope, heading for the falls. And at the end of that bumpy ride, we’ll be food for the gulls and the crabs.
I decided that the Heaven I sought had to be here and now. And if it meant I had to live in Hell to get there, it was a gamble that I was willing to take. Every time a roulette wheel spun or the dealer flipped a card, I knew that along with the cocaine and the vodka, I had a heavenly host of angels lighting up the room and blasting their gilded trumpets and singing in my ears, ‘Hallelujah! …Hallelujah!!’
For truly, I had been saved!
I hear you laugh. You ridicule me and shout Philistine! Madman. A tainted soul, sans regret! But you’d be wrong. Every time I stepped into the arena, I saw the scales of justice like a mighty sculpture,through my bloodshot eyes, suspended in the sky and held there by free air! And I raised the Sword of Damocles and cried unto that host of angels to bear me in their arms and feed me on the fruits of my desire! And they did. Every roll of the dice was a King’s banquet. Every heartbeat that I had ever had was rolled into one single heartbeat, whenever I saw that starter’s gate go up. Time itself stood still. The Earth stopped spinning. Clouds disappeared, the Sun and Moon froze into one. And God whispered in my ear,’ The Meek shall inherit …the meek shall inherit…the meek….’
And am I not meek? Are my eyes not without kindness? My hands gentle, like those of a Priest? Have I not the aura of a saintly person? One who understands humility, compassion and love?But maybe you do not know me well enough, to make such a judgment.
And of my crimes? Did I ever hurt anyone? Did I ever damage a single, solitary soul? Maybe mine is destined for the Eternal fires, for that is the way some would have it, but I have known Paradise. I have been to the Promised Land. And it is poisoned. Poisoned by nothing other than people. People more cruel, more rotten, heartless and mischievous than you could ever imagine. And they bathe in the liquid of that stuff that keeps them alive, even when their bodies are riddled with disease and they have become all but a carcass that breathes as inconsistently as those gross acts of goodliness that they are at odds to provide, yet which ensure their survival, within this noble, society.
And as for me? I am but a shooting star. A meteorite that blazed across his own heavens for a very brief period of time.
My core is now cooled and my body lies in a thousand fragments across the desserts and mountains of this, place. And I’ve hardened to the fact that I’ll never be what I thought I once was…But we all have to diein some way, shape or form.…it’s just a matter of choosing the time and place.’
His gaze falls back to the table. He picks up a dealt hand of cards and looks at them He looks up.
‘Do you possess a lucky soul?’
The camera zooms onto his eyes. He blinks.
The camera view is now a close up on the cards he is holding and as it pans out we can see that they are all jokers.
The camera continues panning out until we see the back of the card player staring straight into a large mirror. Without taking his gaze from the mirror he moves his head slightly to the right and extinguishes the light by blowing at the electric lamp on the table.
Instant blackout