Sinners Are Winners [bxb]

Chapter Sixteen

I frowned. "Oh? Are his works getting more dark and sinister?" I asked.

"The last of his plays I went to see was six whole acts of him laying on the stage eating string cheese." He shrugged. "The critics went crazy for it, but I just think he's finally lost it."

"Huh."

"Either way, hopefully this acting class will help give you a greater sense of confidence. With even greater luck, maybe you'll also learn how to inflate it to the point of sin."

Grant sighed. "Well, at least it sounds like it can be fun."

..................

"Acting is not fun," Grant grunted, only twenty minutes later.

I read through the page in front of me. "That's not your line. Your line is 'Hmm. It'd give us an erection." I read off the script.

Grant's face twisted. "What? I thought this scene was about hanging ourselves." He looked back down at the page.

Xavion rolled his eyes. "It is, dumbass."

"Now, now, let's not call people dumbasses." Tim, the acting instructor chided, leaning forward. "It's important that we remember that everyone has different walks of life and perspectives. Grant, what about this is upsetting to you?"

"This play is ass."

There was an uppity scoff from a woman seated in the audience area. "Could you please refrain from cursing with my son present?"

"Calm down, lady." Xavion rolled his eyes. "Your son's, like, 10."

"11." She corrected snidely.

"Exactly, I was doing heroin on the reg by that age."

"Oooookayyyyy..." Tim awkwardly cut in. He clapped his hands. "How about we get back to the scene? Uh-- Ishmael, can you reread to your line?"

I coughed slightly and flicked my eyes up to the line I had just read. "What about hanging ourselves?"

Grant scowled, but looked down at his script and read in a monotone voice. "Hmm. It'd give us an erection."

"An erection!" I exclaimed, trying to sound 'highly excited' as instructed by the script.

"With all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow. That's why they shriek when you pull them up. Did you not know that?" Grant's face looked confused as he read.

I wasn't quite sure what his line meant either, but I proceeded with mine. "Let's hang ourselves immediately!"

Before Grant could say another word, Tim started to clap his hands. We all looked up from our scripts.

"Ishmael! You make a great Estragon." He praised me.

I felt a warm feeling in my chest and grinned, "t-thank you!"

Xavion suddenly sat up in his seat. "Yes, Ishy-poo! That's the pride! Latch onto it, quick! Inflate it!"

My eyes widened. "Uhhh--"

The 11-year-old boy scoffed. "This is so lame. You guys don't make any sense, this play is dumb, and the only people with any lines are those two." He pointed to me and Grant with a scowl.

"You think you have a lack of lines?" Tim laughed. "Well, I'm playing Godot!" He broke of into a bout of laughter that no one shared. We all stared at him in confusion.

He awkwardly faded off laughing. "Awe, come on! That was funny!" I found myself shrugging. Tim sighed, "Godot has no appearance in this play."

"Well, that's rude." I frowned and held up my script. "Estragon and Vladimir have been waiting for him for a while."