Berkoff - Steven Berkoff: plays. 1

Thestageisbarebutforfivechairsinalineupstagewherebythecastactaschorusfortheeventsthatarespoken,mimedandacted.Apianojustoffstagecreatesmood,addstensionandintroducesthemes.AlargescreenupstagecentrehasprojectedonitaseriesofrealEastEndimages,commentingandremindingusoftheactualworldjustoutsidethestage.ThecastenterandsitonfivechairsfacingfrontpianostartsupandtheysingMyOldMansaysFollowtheVanoutoforderandincanonsanddescants.Itcomessuddenlytoastop, MIKE and LES cross to two oblong spotsimage of two prisonersphotographedforthecriminalhalloffame.Theyposethreetimesbefore speaking. DAD , MUM and SYLV speak as a chorus.

LES : Donate a snout, Mike?

MIKE : OK Ill bung thee a snout, Les.

MIKE : Mikes OK. After the Holy Saint Mike with a hard K. Like a kick swift not mad about Les.

LES : Its soft, its gooey but choose it I did not in my mothers hot womb did she curse this name on me its my handle under the soft its spiky, under the pillow its sharp concealed instrument offensive weapon lies waiting.

MIKE : Oh, he doth bestride Commercial Road like a Colossus thats my manor where we two first set our minces on each other and those Irish yobs walk under our huge legs and peep about for dishonourable bother hes my mucker, china or mate.

LES : And he mine since those days at least twelve moons ago when sailing out the Black Raven pub in Whitechapel the selfsame street where blessed Jack did rip and tear in cold thick nights so long ago those muffled screams and slicing flesh no more than sweetest memories of him that went so humble bout his nightly graft. Tell how it chanced that we sworn mates were once the deadly poison of each others eye.

MIKE : He clocked the bird I happened to be fiancd to, my darling Sylv (of legendary knockers) and I doth take it double strong that this short git in suede and rubber, pimples sprouting forth like buttercups on sunny days from off his greasy boat: that he should dare to lay upon her svelte and tidy form his horror leering jellies so I said to him fuck off thou discharge from thy mothers womb before with honed and sweetened razor I do trouble to remove thy balls from thee.

LES : Oh! Ho! I gushed. You fancied me around the back with boots and chains and knives, behind the super cinema it was then called afore it came a cut-price supermarket

MIKE : Which we have well and truly robbed since then.

LES : So round the back we went that night the fog was falling fast, our coat collars were up our breath like dragons steam did belch forth from our violent mouths while at the selfsame time we uttered uncouth curses, thick with bloody and unholy violence of what we would most like to carve upon each others skulls the crowd of yobs that formed a ring of yellow faces in the lamplight.

MIKE : Right.

LES : Hungry for the blood of creatures nobler and more daring than themselves.

MIKE : Right.

LES : With dribble down their loathsome mouths they leered and lusted for our broken bottles and cold steel to start the channels gouging in our white and precious cheeks.

MIKE : I thought now fuck this for a laugh.

LES : Thats right.

MIKE : So what if sly old Sylv had led me on a touch by showing out to all the lads, provoking hard-ons and gang wars between opposing tribes from Hoxton to Tottenham