JOSH and IKE, two homeless men, sit in an alleyway. JOSH leans against the wall, reading a section of newspaper. IKE has a newspaper open in front of him on the pavement. He is separating seeds from a little pile of marijuana.
IKE Fuggin’ jagoff, selling me this pile ‘a crap! Lookit all these seeds!
JOSH (nose in newspaper) You’ve done worse. Remember that 'hash' you bought? “Smell this!” you said. "This shit is so-o-o potent!" (laughs) Potent as sandalwood incense!
IKE Bite me!
JOSH Hey, check this out! Some chick and her brother - who’s this walking vegetable - suddenly show up at her old lady’s wedding after disappearing for twenty years.
IKE So?
JOSH So the chick’s been taking care of Dumbbell all this time - on the streets - no welfare, no General Assistance checks.
IKE Damn! GA pays for retards, don’t it?
JOSH They pay you.
IKE Kiss my ass... Fuck these seeds! (holds edge of newspaper up, trying to roll the seeds off)
JOSH (looking up from his newspaper) Watch it! That has to last us all day!
IKE (mocking) Has to last all day! (focuses on his task) So this chick wanders the countryside taking care of her moron brother - for what? She some kinda crazy Mother Teresa?
JOSH (reading) “See Wedding, page seventeen.” (leafs through paper) It’s not here. You got page seventeen, Ike?
IKE I got the sports section.
JOSH Send a boy to do a man’s work... (goes to IKE, puts an arm around his shoulder) Ike-o, when you peruse the refuse receptacles for reading material, be sure you get ALL the news. The classified section is the only exception. Hey! “The class-i-fied sec-tion is the ex-cep-tion!” I hear a Salsa beat in there! You can play Latin guitar, right?
IKE I can play anything, Josh. Soon as I get Jesus outta the pawn shop.
JOSH Why do you call your ax Jesus?
IKE I dunno. I guess because people are always sayin’, “Jesus! He sure can play!”
JOSH Christ, you’re an asshole!
IKE Fuckin’ "A"! You got rolling papers?
JOSH No, don’t you?
IKE Man! Goddammit! What the fuck do we do now?
JOSH Relax, Ike-ster! Don’t I always come up with something? Aren’t I the brains of this little organization?
IKE (tears off a piece of paper) Go sit on your brains. I’m rolling a spleef, mon! (pours all the marijuana onto the paper, starts rolling a huge joint)
JOSH Ike! Hang on! I’ll find us some papers. (heads for exit, turns) Hang on, will you?
IKE Yeah, yeah. Just hurry the fuck up!
JOSH exits. IKE goes to wall, sits reading. JESUS enters, long-haired and wearing a dirty white robe and sandals. IKE, nose in newspaper, hears him.
YOU ARE READING
TALES FROM THE UNDERBELLY
Short StoryDark snippets of the "Grey People", the denizens of America's underbelly.
