Friday, July 9, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Where My Money, Biotch?
Originally submitted at Roamans
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- Crisscross design with ruched sides to enhance the bustline
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The Gift I Had to Buy for my BFF!
By Neva from Toledo, Ohio on 7/7/2010
Waist: Feels true to size
Cup Fit: Feels true to size
Pros: Attractive Design
Best Uses: Swimming
Since I am a professional writer I get paid to do reviews. You can read my reviews of maxi dresses I purchased from Roamans on my blog, http://maxisforever @blogspot.com
(legalese)
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Sha-na-na Shaniqua Danyay Halloway Goes off! (Reposted for Whoopi!)
I got an email I couldn't resist answering in the voice of my ghetto fabulous evil twin, Sha-nay-nay Shaniqua Danyay Halloway.
Dear sir/madam
I am Mr Mike Mcmullen I need your services in a confidential matter regarding money transfer.
This requires a private arrangement though the details of the transaction will be furnish to you if you indicate your interest in this proposal.
We have all the legal documents to back up the transaction, besides we have worked out the modalities to ensure smooth and risky free transfer.
I am willing to offer you 40% of the money, the fund in question is quite large. All correspondences will be via email and telephone for now.
I am expecting to hear from you, if you are willing to do the business with us,your private phone number is needed.
Please let me hear from you immediately only in my private emailbox:mike.mcmullen1@hotmail.com
Waiting to hear from you.
Thanks,
Yours Faithfully,
Mr Mike Mcmullen
Look, Bitch!
Don't know who the hell you think you foolin telling me yo name Mcmullen. I ain't even got my GED yet and I knows it's McMullen. I had a Irish priest help me when I was pregnant and the baby daddy try to get me to have a abortion. Father Mac tell me killin babys a sin and I has to do Gods will and have my baby. So I has nine of them little basterds now listening to Father Mac, all with different daddies and ain't none of them muthafuckas worth a dam.
You talking bout needing my services sound like you wants me to give yo ass a blow job or something. What's confidential bout that? How you think I take care of nine kids with no child support and a welfare check? I get enough on the food stamp card to feed 'em but I still gotta pay rent and usetilities.
So let's gone and make this transaction cause I sho as hell accepts yo proposal! Hell yeah! And you ain't gotta worry bout no tricky transfers cause I's clean. I did have the clap last year, but that done cleared up now, but you can't go down on me cause I have them genital warts and spit make 'em sting. You better wear a condom to for that private arrangement you talking about because my privates full of crabs right now cause that last muthafucka that made that arrangement wouldn't wear a condom. Started itching soon as his ass got up!
But let's get one thing scrait. I don't care what kinda legal documents you got, I ain't backing up cause I still got hemorrhoids from the last time I let some sonofabitch pay me extra to ram his - wait a minute - some skank looking over my shoulder trying to read what I'm typing. What was I saying? Naw, ain't gone be nona that shit! No, especially since you say your fund is quite large. Think I's stupid just cause I dropped out in the ninth grade? I had to! I was bout to have another dam baby and i couldnt go to school with two of 'em to feed. I know you done smoothed out all yo modalities and I bet you got some big ones, but you ain't plugging my butt. Oh, no!
You say you pay me 40 of the money you got, so it sound like you ain't got but about fifty dollars. Guess that mean we be doing it in the alley less you gotta a car cause don't sound like you aint got enough for no motel room.
I can't give you no phone number right now cause they done turn off my phone cause my 14 year old son been calling his little girlfriend running up my bill. I only got 200 minutes a month on my plan and he done run my bill up to 500 dam dollars calling that little fast ass ho all the time. I think he done got her pregnant! One of the twins flushed my pre-paid cell down the toilet, so I gotta go to the library to use the pay phone. That where I is now checking my email.
But you can call me at 1-900-CRACKHO, its only 25 cents a minute. I ain't no crack ho tho. I's just a regular ol' ho. I'm usually the only one there cause soon as them dam crack hos make enough money to buy a rock, theys gone. That why the owner keep the price so low so it take 'em a while.
But if one of them bitches answer, just tell 'em to put FaBooLust on the phone. I be talking some shit on that 900 line! I'll make you harder than it is to believe this bullshit you trying to tell me!
Don't email me no mo, you fake ass bitch!
Dear sir/madam
I am Mr Mike Mcmullen I need your services in a confidential matter regarding money transfer.
This requires a private arrangement though the details of the transaction will be furnish to you if you indicate your interest in this proposal.
We have all the legal documents to back up the transaction, besides we have worked out the modalities to ensure smooth and risky free transfer.
I am willing to offer you 40% of the money, the fund in question is quite large. All correspondences will be via email and telephone for now.
I am expecting to hear from you, if you are willing to do the business with us,your private phone number is needed.
Please let me hear from you immediately only in my private emailbox:mike.mcmullen1@hotmail.com
Waiting to hear from you.
Thanks,
Yours Faithfully,
Mr Mike Mcmullen
Look, Bitch!
Don't know who the hell you think you foolin telling me yo name Mcmullen. I ain't even got my GED yet and I knows it's McMullen. I had a Irish priest help me when I was pregnant and the baby daddy try to get me to have a abortion. Father Mac tell me killin babys a sin and I has to do Gods will and have my baby. So I has nine of them little basterds now listening to Father Mac, all with different daddies and ain't none of them muthafuckas worth a dam.
You talking bout needing my services sound like you wants me to give yo ass a blow job or something. What's confidential bout that? How you think I take care of nine kids with no child support and a welfare check? I get enough on the food stamp card to feed 'em but I still gotta pay rent and usetilities.
So let's gone and make this transaction cause I sho as hell accepts yo proposal! Hell yeah! And you ain't gotta worry bout no tricky transfers cause I's clean. I did have the clap last year, but that done cleared up now, but you can't go down on me cause I have them genital warts and spit make 'em sting. You better wear a condom to for that private arrangement you talking about because my privates full of crabs right now cause that last muthafucka that made that arrangement wouldn't wear a condom. Started itching soon as his ass got up!
But let's get one thing scrait. I don't care what kinda legal documents you got, I ain't backing up cause I still got hemorrhoids from the last time I let some sonofabitch pay me extra to ram his - wait a minute - some skank looking over my shoulder trying to read what I'm typing. What was I saying? Naw, ain't gone be nona that shit! No, especially since you say your fund is quite large. Think I's stupid just cause I dropped out in the ninth grade? I had to! I was bout to have another dam baby and i couldnt go to school with two of 'em to feed. I know you done smoothed out all yo modalities and I bet you got some big ones, but you ain't plugging my butt. Oh, no!
You say you pay me 40 of the money you got, so it sound like you ain't got but about fifty dollars. Guess that mean we be doing it in the alley less you gotta a car cause don't sound like you aint got enough for no motel room.
I can't give you no phone number right now cause they done turn off my phone cause my 14 year old son been calling his little girlfriend running up my bill. I only got 200 minutes a month on my plan and he done run my bill up to 500 dam dollars calling that little fast ass ho all the time. I think he done got her pregnant! One of the twins flushed my pre-paid cell down the toilet, so I gotta go to the library to use the pay phone. That where I is now checking my email.
But you can call me at 1-900-CRACKHO, its only 25 cents a minute. I ain't no crack ho tho. I's just a regular ol' ho. I'm usually the only one there cause soon as them dam crack hos make enough money to buy a rock, theys gone. That why the owner keep the price so low so it take 'em a while.
But if one of them bitches answer, just tell 'em to put FaBooLust on the phone. I be talking some shit on that 900 line! I'll make you harder than it is to believe this bullshit you trying to tell me!
Don't email me no mo, you fake ass bitch!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
CASTING STONES - WORKING OUT FATHER ISSUES
Casting Stones
A One-Act Play
By G. Joyce Chatman
Cast (in order of appearance)
Joyce - an intelligent, but emotionally repressed and sexually confused young woman who has been deeply affected by her black Baptist minister father's infidelity and bitterness toward her mother that she believes is due to her mother not telling her when her father was dying and giving her a chance to do “something” before he died
Rev – a very learned and persuasive middle-aged black Baptist minister who has succumbed to the temptation to commit adultery and fears he is about to pay the ultimate wages of sin, death, at the hands of a woman who is obviously not balanced, but who he thinks he can sway and makes every attempt to convince not to kill him
Two uniformed police officers
Setting
Joyce’s residence, which is sparsely furnished with a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs, a table and a lamp, and austerely decorated with a vase of flowers and an African statue; the chairs and table may have African fabric draped across them and the lamp may also have an African theme.
Time
Present day
Costumes
Joyce is dressed casually and Rev is also, as if he were out jogging when she lured him to her domicile, possibly for a sexual encounter, drugged him, and tied him up.
Props
large “knife,” a telephone, and rope to tie Rev to a chair
Casting Stones
A One-Act Play
By G. Joyce Chatman
Joyce
(intense, but aloof)
He died quietly with his eyes shut tight against the night that he succumbed to days before. I didn’t know. Had I known he was comatose, I would have done something.
Rev
(sitting tied up in chair opposite her with his head down)
What could you have done?
Joyce
Something. (realizes he has spoken and looks over in surprise) You’re awake!
Rev
(looks up)
You drugged me. (dazed) Like what? You would have done something like what?
Joyce
(returns to previous train of thought obviously frustrated)
Like something! Better than doing nothing – anything’s better than that. She should have told me. Instead she kept it to herself; shut me out of my own father’s last week of life.
Rev
(seems to have a quiet calmness, despite the obvious restraint and still being a little groggy)
But he wasn’t even conscious. Maybe your mother was just trying to protect you. Maybe she didn’t want you to worry.
Joyce
I wouldn’t have worried – I would have done something. Yes, I would. I know how to astral project. I could have gone to him and talked to his spirit.
Rev
(alert)
You can do that now. Talk to him, I mean. Tell him what you’re about to do.
Joyce
(ignores his last statement)
I do, but it’s not the same.
Rev
(voice quivers as he shows first signs of fear)
You talk to your father now?
Joyce
Actually, he talks to me.
Rev
What does he say? (eyes widened as fear sweeps over him and he fights to remain calm)
Joyce
Well, it’s not really talking. It’s just knowing. He’s come to me in dreams, just to let me know he’s all right. The first time was when Mama moved into her new house and I fell asleep wishing I could see it. Daddy came to show me his room. I dreamed it was there in Mama’s house. His new room. His new residence. It was painted in shades of blue and looked like twilight. Maybe that’s why I wanted my office brown and blue. I hate blue. It’s the most overused color in decorating, next to white and beige.
Rev
(calmer)
What about the other dreams? Did he tell you to do this?
Joyce
(distant, doesn’t hear him)
I can only remember one of the other two. I was sitting in a bus station and Daddy walked in looking like he did when he and Mama got married. Just like he did in the pictures of him when he was young. He kept getting younger in each dream until he looked like the earliest image I had of him. Wonder if I’d seen pictures of him as a child, would he have kept visiting me until he aged back to infancy. At least I’d have seen him a few more times then.
Rev
But you were just dreaming. That wasn’t really your father, just your imagination.
Joyce
You sound like a psychiatrist. (tone becomes hostile) Trying to analyze my relationship with my father. You’ve got a lot of nerve. How good a father are you? If you’d cheat on your wife, you can’t be much of a father. Mine wasn’t.
Rev
But you loved him any way. (pause) Maybe he wasn’t a good father. Maybe he was a terrible husband. But he must have been a good man because you wouldn’t have loved him so much otherwise. That’s what you said before I passed out – that you loved him.
Joyce
(lovingly)
He was my hero. The only truly brave man I knew growing up black in the south. (proudly) He marched with Dr. King in Selma.
Rev
See? He was a good man. You loved him. Mourned his death. Remember how much you hurt when he died? Do you want my son to hurt like that? He will if you kill me.
Joyce
(dismissive)
He’ll get over it. I did. Besides, it’s not your son’s hurt that you’re dying for. It’s your wife’s. You’re the first name on my list. The first of many.
Rev
(conciliatory tone)
I was wrong. You’re right. I shouldn’t have cheated on my wife. (pause) I shouldn’t have come home with you tonight. But I don’t deserve to die.
Joyce
According to the Bible, you do. Only they just stoned the women in the Bible, didn’t they? (indignant) Caught a man and a woman in the act, but she was the one they killed! They’re still doing it in the Middle East, too. Casting stones. Breaking women’s bodies while men get away with murder! It was that hypocrisy in your Bible and my father’s life that made me leave the church, his church. I hate all things Baptist, but especially lying, cheating Baptist ministers. Do you know my father told me when I confronted him about his adultery that he only knew one Baptist preacher who didn’t cheat on his wife? One!
Rev
(calculatingly)
But God promised Lot if one righteous man could be found in a sinful city, he would spare the city and all the people in it. Lot didn’t find one in Sodom, but your father did.
Joyce
I guess so.
Rev
(keeps talking as if he hasn’t heard her)
Then, according to the Bible, the whole city should be spared. (pause) That list of preachers you’ve got - all the Baptist preachers in the city – they - we have to be spared.
Joyce
That was in my father’s day. That preacher who kept his vows is long since dead and buried, just like my father. (cunningly) I’ll tell you what. If you can name one Baptist preacher in this community who is not cheating on his wife with other women or, these days, with men, I’ll spare all of the preachers on my list. Just name one. And don’t lie because I know the truth and if a lie comes off your tongue, I’ll cut it out. (grabs a huge knife)
Rev
(gets scared again)
There are a lot of preachers who are faithful! A lot!
Joyce
(points knife at him)
Name one!
Rev
Reverend – er- Doctor – uh – Pastor – no, he’s Methodist. Let me think. Reverend what’s his name over at – no – that’s a Church of God in Christ. Pastor – he’s Pentecostal. But there’s got to be one. There’s got to be. God, help me! Surely there’s a righteous man among those you’ve called. Who else is on your list? Surely one of us is leading a holy life and living without sexual sin. There’s got to be one. That’s all I need. Just one.
Joyce
There’s not. Not one single Baptist minister in this town is faithful to his wife.
Rev
What about that assistant pastor at Rev. Jones’ Church? Rev. Brown!
Joyce
He’s single and, believe it or not, a virgin.
Rev
How do you know that?
Joyce
I have my ways. But he doesn’t count. He’s not married. He’s saving himself until he is.
Rev
But doesn’t that make him righteous? You don’t have to be married to be righteous. All you have to do to be righteous is obey God’s law. Rev. Brown saving himself for marriage is following God’s law.
Joyce
I guess waiting to get married to have sex would make a man righteous. Not many of you do that.
Rev
Not many of you either, any more.
Joyce
(tone becomes hostile again)
More than you think.
Rev
(ignoring hostile tone)
You mean to tell me you’ve never – You’re a –
Joyce
Never what, Reverend? Never had sex with a married preacher? No, I don’t believe I have. But you came here to initiate me in the kind of blasphemous, adulterous lust you and your fellow ministers think is your right, didn’t you? You want me to unzip your pants right now and pull out that serpent in there masquerading as St. Peter and take it in my mouth – all (looks at his crotch) six inches of it? I’ve never performed fellatio on a married preacher before. Do I have to pray first or do I just wait for you to call on the Lord when your life gushes out into my throat like a fountain that men like you make women believe is the blood of Jesus passing through you to them? (sings ) “There is a fountain filled with blood. Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins. And sinners plunge beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains. Lose all their guilty stains. Lose all their guilty stains. And sinners plunge beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains.” Is that what you’re offering me, Reverend? A fountain filled with blood that will purify me?
Rev
(now his tone his hostile)
Why don’t you untie me and let me perform cunnilingus on you? I’d love to get my mouth between your legs!
Joyce
(coyly)
You’d do that? For me? But you don’t even know me.
Rev
(exaggeratingly lecherous)
No, but I know what women like.
Joyce
(laughs)
Well, you picked the wrong woman. I’d rather set fire to my pubic hair than to have the forked tongue of the beast lapping at my labia with the hot flames of hell! Besides, I never met a man yet who could do it right.
Rev
I should have known. You’re a lesbian.
Joyce
Only in your fantasies. You’d love to see me with another woman, at your beck and call, wouldn’t you? How about your wife?
Rev
(starting to boil)
My wife is straight.
Joyce
So am I. I just don’t like oral sex – giving or receiving.
Rev
Then why were you just offering to – by the way, it’s eight inches.
Joyce
(aside)
In your dreams! I blow men all the time because they like it – not because I do. Didn’t I tell you? That’s how you’re going to die.
Rev.
What do you mean? I thought you said you were going to kill me, not –
Joyce
And you thought I meant something brutal like stabbing you or strangling you or shooting you? That’s what a man would do – after raping and torturing you first, which I am going to do. But when I do it, it will be the most exquisite pain you’ve ever felt and when you die it will be the most ecstatic moment of your existence. See, I’m a biochemist. Did I tell you that? I have degrees in biology and chemistry, but my Ph.D. is in biochemistry. I developed a drug for a pharmaceutical company that I work for that was supposed to compete with Viagra.
Rev
(desperately trying to change the subject)
Is it on the market?
Joyce
Whoa, boy! (he mouths “Boy?”) Patience. I’m getting to that. We did some test trials of our product, which was applied topically and it did exactly what it was supposed to do. Then the wife of one of our test subject’s put some in her mouth and applied it orally. Before she could disengage, her husband started orgasming violently and repeatedly. Even after she removed her mouth from his penis, the orgasms continued. She said they came in wave after wave, dozens, hundreds, until he finally passed out. The poor thing went into a coma and he’s remained in it since then. That was three years ago. They wanted to put the drug on the market with a warning on the label, but the wife has threatened to sue, so we lost the patent. Last I heard, according to the doctors, that guy’s endorphin levels indicate that he is still having orgasms. He is in a state of complete physical bliss and he has been there for three years. But his wife wants to pull the plug now. He’s going to die the happiest man on earth.
Rev
But how can his heart take that?
Joyce
It can’t. That’s why his body shut down to prevent a heart attack. That could happen to you or you could go into cardiac arrest before you go into a blissful coma. Either way, you die happy.
Rev
(nervous and confused)
Do you know in this country we actually think that’s a right? But it’s not. “The pursuit of happiness” is never mentioned in the Constitution, only in the Declaration of Independence, which is not law. The reason it wasn’t put into the Constitution is because each person has to choose what makes him happy. Having orgasms until I die wouldn’t be my choice.
Joyce
Why not? Don’t you cheat so you can keep having orgasms?
Rev
Why did your father cheat?
Joyce
Because his mother – who he named me after – was a whore and he loved those kinds of women, in spite of himself. That’s what turned him on. Not my mother who came to the marriage bed pure and virginal. His Madonna, the mother of his children, was not the woman he lusted after; it was probably in reality his mother. Now, I sound like Freud talking about some Oedipus Complex my father didn’t actually have. He was just horny and greedy. One woman was not enough for him. Why is that? Why can’t you be satisfied with one woman, the woman who loves you?
Rev
Because we’re men. We love our wives, but men are turned on by sex or the promise of it. A woman whose walk, talk, or even a look she gives you promising sex is a turn on.
Joyce
What about your wife?
Rev
My wife is not that kind of woman.
Joyce
(enraged)
Then why didn’t you marry the kind of woman that turns you on?
Rev
(calm and cautious again)
I had to marry a woman who could be a preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(looks bewildered)
What does that mean? My parents groomed me all my life to be a preacher’s wife. My mother even told me I should have married the preacher my baby sister married who beat her because she said I would have made a better preacher’s wife! What did she mean by that?
Rev
She meant that you are a virtuous woman. (pause) You’ve never been with a man, have you?
Joyce
Is that how you determine virtue in a woman? What is a virtuous man?
Rev
Rev. Brown, the young minister we talked about earlier. Maybe instead of killing preachers like me, you should find someone like Rev. Brown to settle down with. Your mother was probably right. You have good qualities that she recognized since she is a preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(seems frightened)
I don’t want to be married to a preacher! Oh, he may be untouched now, but as soon as he’s married, he’ll turn into you and my father and all of the rest of you.
Rev
(calculating)
I’ll make you a deal. Wait and see if Rev. Brown stays faithful after he’s married. If he cheats, then you can go down your list, starting with me.
Joyce
How do I know you won’t just call the police if I let you go?
Rev
What can I tell them? You haven’t hurt me. (pause) Tell you what, I’ll give you Rev. Brown’s number and you can dial it. I’ll talk to him while you hold the phone.
Joyce
(more frightened)
Talk to him? About what?
Rev
About you.
Joyce
(curious)
About me?
Rev
About our concerns about the morals of the Baptist clergy – of course, about you. He’s single. You’re single. And according to your mother, you have all of the qualities needed to make a good preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(pauses, looking wild eyed, then calms down and walks to the phone mumbling “I never wanted to marry a preacher,” “I can’t be a preacher’s wife”)
O.K. What’s the number?
Rev
555-7301. (she dials the number and brings the phone over so he can talk) Hello, Rev. Man, you still single? I’m asking because I know a young lady whose father was a pastor and she’s a virtuous woman – the kind who’d make a good preacher’s wife. You know, it’s about time we got you married. (pause) She looks good, man. Like my wife when she was young. Matter of fact, she has a Ph.D., so she’s also pretty smart. (pause) Oh, yes, quite stable. She certainly has high moral standards. So, you think you’d like to meet her? (pause) Well, I’m here at her place now. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if you’d drop by. (pause) Here, I’ll let you talk to her.
Joyce
(puts phone to ear)
Hello? (pause) No, I’m not a college professor. I’m actually a researcher at a drug company. (pause) Nothing you’d know, but I do develop drugs. (pause) My address? It’s 410 Michigan Boulevard. It ’s a red brick house. (pause) O.K. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Good-bye. (hangs up phone)
Rev
See? That was great! Now, we have found a virtuous man and you can let me go!
Joyce
He sounds like my father must’ve sounded when he was young.
Rev
Young men tend to sound young. Let’s get me out of these ropes!
Joyce
He came to me as a young man in my dreams, you know.
Rev
(momentarily confused)
Rev. Brown?
Joyce
(sadly)
No, my father.
Rev
You told me! If you give me that knife, I’ll cut these ropes myself.
Joyce
(stops dead in her tracks as if startled)
She told me. She said, “Daddy is in the hospital” and I stopped listening because I knew he was not coming home.
Rev
But you said she never told you he was in a coma. (from this point on, neither one is listening to the other until the end)
Joyce
She did, but I wasn’t listening to her. She said, “Daddy’s in the hospital and he’s in a coma.” Then -
Rev
Look you haven’t broken any laws, except kidnapping –
Joyce
- the day before he died, she called and left a voice mail message for me while I was at work. She knew I was at work -
Rev
Just let me go and they can’t even charge you with that!
Joyce
- so I couldn’t understand why she called. She said there was no change. I didn’t even hear the message until I got home the next day.
Rev
(trying to stay calm)
Please, let me go. My wife and son are going to start worrying if I don’t get home soon.
Joyce
I just sat in a chair in my living room, as far as I could from the telephone, waiting for it to ring. It didn’t ring until close to midnight and I knew. (actions mimic dialog) I picked up the phone and it was my brother telling me Daddy had died. (fights back tears)
Rev
(pleading)
I just want to go home. I just want to see my family.
Joyce
He died without ever waking up. The last thing he did, after he had the stroke and before he went into the coma, was pick up Mama’s hand and kiss it. He loved her. After all the pain he put her through, he loved her so much. And he got the chance to show her before he went into that coma. (sirens are heard in the distance) Mama told me. I just couldn’t hear her because a voice was screaming in my head. There it is! Do you hear it?
Rev
(scared)
No, I don’t hear anything! Untie me! Hurry!
Joyce
(listens)
Are those sirens? (looks at him) Who did I call? Who were you talking to? (picks up something from the table and walks toward him as sirens get closer)
Rev
What are you putting in your mouth? (pounding on door and voice screams, “Open up! Police!”) No, please! (she kneels down in front of him with her back to the audience as the pounding and yelling continue) Help me, please! God, help me! (the stage goes dark)
First Police Officer
(Joyce sits in the other chair wearing handcuffs while First Police Officer is examining Rev and the Second Police Officer is guarding their prisoner)
This guy is dead. I think he had a heart attack! I’m calling for an ambulance. (exits as he takes out his walkie talkie)
Second Police Officer
Why’d you do it? Why’d you tie that guy up and rape him?
Joyce
Don’t worry. He died happy.
Second Police Officer
So, you’re so good you can make a man come until he dies.
Joyce
Let me rinse out my mouth and I’ll show you how good I am.
Second Police Officer
I know one thing, you’re a dumb bitch because that guy got you to call the police and give us your address!
Joyce
Take these handcuffs off me and I’ll show you how dumb a bitch I am!
Second Police Officer
Save it for the dykes at the county jail! (First Police Officer enters) Hey, keep an eye on Ms. Rapist here while I look around to see if she’s got any more dead bodies hidden around here somewhere. (exits)
First Police Officer
(looks at Rev’s limp body)
Poor guy. Least he died happy.
Joyce
You better believe it, officer. Could you give me that bottle of mouthwash on the table? My mouth’s a little sticky. (he smiles at her knowingly, picks up the bottle, opens it, and pours a little of the liquid from it into her mouth, then sets the bottle down as she swishes the liquid around in her mouth; the he comes over and stands in front of her with his back to the audience and appears to unzip his pants – soon sounds of oral sex are heard and he starts having spasms just as the Second Police Officer enters)
Second Police Officer
(screams in horror as lights go down) NOOOOOOOOO!
A One-Act Play
By G. Joyce Chatman
Cast (in order of appearance)
Joyce - an intelligent, but emotionally repressed and sexually confused young woman who has been deeply affected by her black Baptist minister father's infidelity and bitterness toward her mother that she believes is due to her mother not telling her when her father was dying and giving her a chance to do “something” before he died
Rev – a very learned and persuasive middle-aged black Baptist minister who has succumbed to the temptation to commit adultery and fears he is about to pay the ultimate wages of sin, death, at the hands of a woman who is obviously not balanced, but who he thinks he can sway and makes every attempt to convince not to kill him
Two uniformed police officers
Setting
Joyce’s residence, which is sparsely furnished with a couple of uncomfortable looking chairs, a table and a lamp, and austerely decorated with a vase of flowers and an African statue; the chairs and table may have African fabric draped across them and the lamp may also have an African theme.
Time
Present day
Costumes
Joyce is dressed casually and Rev is also, as if he were out jogging when she lured him to her domicile, possibly for a sexual encounter, drugged him, and tied him up.
Props
large “knife,” a telephone, and rope to tie Rev to a chair
Casting Stones
A One-Act Play
By G. Joyce Chatman
Joyce
(intense, but aloof)
He died quietly with his eyes shut tight against the night that he succumbed to days before. I didn’t know. Had I known he was comatose, I would have done something.
Rev
(sitting tied up in chair opposite her with his head down)
What could you have done?
Joyce
Something. (realizes he has spoken and looks over in surprise) You’re awake!
Rev
(looks up)
You drugged me. (dazed) Like what? You would have done something like what?
Joyce
(returns to previous train of thought obviously frustrated)
Like something! Better than doing nothing – anything’s better than that. She should have told me. Instead she kept it to herself; shut me out of my own father’s last week of life.
Rev
(seems to have a quiet calmness, despite the obvious restraint and still being a little groggy)
But he wasn’t even conscious. Maybe your mother was just trying to protect you. Maybe she didn’t want you to worry.
Joyce
I wouldn’t have worried – I would have done something. Yes, I would. I know how to astral project. I could have gone to him and talked to his spirit.
Rev
(alert)
You can do that now. Talk to him, I mean. Tell him what you’re about to do.
Joyce
(ignores his last statement)
I do, but it’s not the same.
Rev
(voice quivers as he shows first signs of fear)
You talk to your father now?
Joyce
Actually, he talks to me.
Rev
What does he say? (eyes widened as fear sweeps over him and he fights to remain calm)
Joyce
Well, it’s not really talking. It’s just knowing. He’s come to me in dreams, just to let me know he’s all right. The first time was when Mama moved into her new house and I fell asleep wishing I could see it. Daddy came to show me his room. I dreamed it was there in Mama’s house. His new room. His new residence. It was painted in shades of blue and looked like twilight. Maybe that’s why I wanted my office brown and blue. I hate blue. It’s the most overused color in decorating, next to white and beige.
Rev
(calmer)
What about the other dreams? Did he tell you to do this?
Joyce
(distant, doesn’t hear him)
I can only remember one of the other two. I was sitting in a bus station and Daddy walked in looking like he did when he and Mama got married. Just like he did in the pictures of him when he was young. He kept getting younger in each dream until he looked like the earliest image I had of him. Wonder if I’d seen pictures of him as a child, would he have kept visiting me until he aged back to infancy. At least I’d have seen him a few more times then.
Rev
But you were just dreaming. That wasn’t really your father, just your imagination.
Joyce
You sound like a psychiatrist. (tone becomes hostile) Trying to analyze my relationship with my father. You’ve got a lot of nerve. How good a father are you? If you’d cheat on your wife, you can’t be much of a father. Mine wasn’t.
Rev
But you loved him any way. (pause) Maybe he wasn’t a good father. Maybe he was a terrible husband. But he must have been a good man because you wouldn’t have loved him so much otherwise. That’s what you said before I passed out – that you loved him.
Joyce
(lovingly)
He was my hero. The only truly brave man I knew growing up black in the south. (proudly) He marched with Dr. King in Selma.
Rev
See? He was a good man. You loved him. Mourned his death. Remember how much you hurt when he died? Do you want my son to hurt like that? He will if you kill me.
Joyce
(dismissive)
He’ll get over it. I did. Besides, it’s not your son’s hurt that you’re dying for. It’s your wife’s. You’re the first name on my list. The first of many.
Rev
(conciliatory tone)
I was wrong. You’re right. I shouldn’t have cheated on my wife. (pause) I shouldn’t have come home with you tonight. But I don’t deserve to die.
Joyce
According to the Bible, you do. Only they just stoned the women in the Bible, didn’t they? (indignant) Caught a man and a woman in the act, but she was the one they killed! They’re still doing it in the Middle East, too. Casting stones. Breaking women’s bodies while men get away with murder! It was that hypocrisy in your Bible and my father’s life that made me leave the church, his church. I hate all things Baptist, but especially lying, cheating Baptist ministers. Do you know my father told me when I confronted him about his adultery that he only knew one Baptist preacher who didn’t cheat on his wife? One!
Rev
(calculatingly)
But God promised Lot if one righteous man could be found in a sinful city, he would spare the city and all the people in it. Lot didn’t find one in Sodom, but your father did.
Joyce
I guess so.
Rev
(keeps talking as if he hasn’t heard her)
Then, according to the Bible, the whole city should be spared. (pause) That list of preachers you’ve got - all the Baptist preachers in the city – they - we have to be spared.
Joyce
That was in my father’s day. That preacher who kept his vows is long since dead and buried, just like my father. (cunningly) I’ll tell you what. If you can name one Baptist preacher in this community who is not cheating on his wife with other women or, these days, with men, I’ll spare all of the preachers on my list. Just name one. And don’t lie because I know the truth and if a lie comes off your tongue, I’ll cut it out. (grabs a huge knife)
Rev
(gets scared again)
There are a lot of preachers who are faithful! A lot!
Joyce
(points knife at him)
Name one!
Rev
Reverend – er- Doctor – uh – Pastor – no, he’s Methodist. Let me think. Reverend what’s his name over at – no – that’s a Church of God in Christ. Pastor – he’s Pentecostal. But there’s got to be one. There’s got to be. God, help me! Surely there’s a righteous man among those you’ve called. Who else is on your list? Surely one of us is leading a holy life and living without sexual sin. There’s got to be one. That’s all I need. Just one.
Joyce
There’s not. Not one single Baptist minister in this town is faithful to his wife.
Rev
What about that assistant pastor at Rev. Jones’ Church? Rev. Brown!
Joyce
He’s single and, believe it or not, a virgin.
Rev
How do you know that?
Joyce
I have my ways. But he doesn’t count. He’s not married. He’s saving himself until he is.
Rev
But doesn’t that make him righteous? You don’t have to be married to be righteous. All you have to do to be righteous is obey God’s law. Rev. Brown saving himself for marriage is following God’s law.
Joyce
I guess waiting to get married to have sex would make a man righteous. Not many of you do that.
Rev
Not many of you either, any more.
Joyce
(tone becomes hostile again)
More than you think.
Rev
(ignoring hostile tone)
You mean to tell me you’ve never – You’re a –
Joyce
Never what, Reverend? Never had sex with a married preacher? No, I don’t believe I have. But you came here to initiate me in the kind of blasphemous, adulterous lust you and your fellow ministers think is your right, didn’t you? You want me to unzip your pants right now and pull out that serpent in there masquerading as St. Peter and take it in my mouth – all (looks at his crotch) six inches of it? I’ve never performed fellatio on a married preacher before. Do I have to pray first or do I just wait for you to call on the Lord when your life gushes out into my throat like a fountain that men like you make women believe is the blood of Jesus passing through you to them? (sings ) “There is a fountain filled with blood. Drawn from Emmanuel’s veins. And sinners plunge beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains. Lose all their guilty stains. Lose all their guilty stains. And sinners plunge beneath that flood. Lose all their guilty stains.” Is that what you’re offering me, Reverend? A fountain filled with blood that will purify me?
Rev
(now his tone his hostile)
Why don’t you untie me and let me perform cunnilingus on you? I’d love to get my mouth between your legs!
Joyce
(coyly)
You’d do that? For me? But you don’t even know me.
Rev
(exaggeratingly lecherous)
No, but I know what women like.
Joyce
(laughs)
Well, you picked the wrong woman. I’d rather set fire to my pubic hair than to have the forked tongue of the beast lapping at my labia with the hot flames of hell! Besides, I never met a man yet who could do it right.
Rev
I should have known. You’re a lesbian.
Joyce
Only in your fantasies. You’d love to see me with another woman, at your beck and call, wouldn’t you? How about your wife?
Rev
(starting to boil)
My wife is straight.
Joyce
So am I. I just don’t like oral sex – giving or receiving.
Rev
Then why were you just offering to – by the way, it’s eight inches.
Joyce
(aside)
In your dreams! I blow men all the time because they like it – not because I do. Didn’t I tell you? That’s how you’re going to die.
Rev.
What do you mean? I thought you said you were going to kill me, not –
Joyce
And you thought I meant something brutal like stabbing you or strangling you or shooting you? That’s what a man would do – after raping and torturing you first, which I am going to do. But when I do it, it will be the most exquisite pain you’ve ever felt and when you die it will be the most ecstatic moment of your existence. See, I’m a biochemist. Did I tell you that? I have degrees in biology and chemistry, but my Ph.D. is in biochemistry. I developed a drug for a pharmaceutical company that I work for that was supposed to compete with Viagra.
Rev
(desperately trying to change the subject)
Is it on the market?
Joyce
Whoa, boy! (he mouths “Boy?”) Patience. I’m getting to that. We did some test trials of our product, which was applied topically and it did exactly what it was supposed to do. Then the wife of one of our test subject’s put some in her mouth and applied it orally. Before she could disengage, her husband started orgasming violently and repeatedly. Even after she removed her mouth from his penis, the orgasms continued. She said they came in wave after wave, dozens, hundreds, until he finally passed out. The poor thing went into a coma and he’s remained in it since then. That was three years ago. They wanted to put the drug on the market with a warning on the label, but the wife has threatened to sue, so we lost the patent. Last I heard, according to the doctors, that guy’s endorphin levels indicate that he is still having orgasms. He is in a state of complete physical bliss and he has been there for three years. But his wife wants to pull the plug now. He’s going to die the happiest man on earth.
Rev
But how can his heart take that?
Joyce
It can’t. That’s why his body shut down to prevent a heart attack. That could happen to you or you could go into cardiac arrest before you go into a blissful coma. Either way, you die happy.
Rev
(nervous and confused)
Do you know in this country we actually think that’s a right? But it’s not. “The pursuit of happiness” is never mentioned in the Constitution, only in the Declaration of Independence, which is not law. The reason it wasn’t put into the Constitution is because each person has to choose what makes him happy. Having orgasms until I die wouldn’t be my choice.
Joyce
Why not? Don’t you cheat so you can keep having orgasms?
Rev
Why did your father cheat?
Joyce
Because his mother – who he named me after – was a whore and he loved those kinds of women, in spite of himself. That’s what turned him on. Not my mother who came to the marriage bed pure and virginal. His Madonna, the mother of his children, was not the woman he lusted after; it was probably in reality his mother. Now, I sound like Freud talking about some Oedipus Complex my father didn’t actually have. He was just horny and greedy. One woman was not enough for him. Why is that? Why can’t you be satisfied with one woman, the woman who loves you?
Rev
Because we’re men. We love our wives, but men are turned on by sex or the promise of it. A woman whose walk, talk, or even a look she gives you promising sex is a turn on.
Joyce
What about your wife?
Rev
My wife is not that kind of woman.
Joyce
(enraged)
Then why didn’t you marry the kind of woman that turns you on?
Rev
(calm and cautious again)
I had to marry a woman who could be a preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(looks bewildered)
What does that mean? My parents groomed me all my life to be a preacher’s wife. My mother even told me I should have married the preacher my baby sister married who beat her because she said I would have made a better preacher’s wife! What did she mean by that?
Rev
She meant that you are a virtuous woman. (pause) You’ve never been with a man, have you?
Joyce
Is that how you determine virtue in a woman? What is a virtuous man?
Rev
Rev. Brown, the young minister we talked about earlier. Maybe instead of killing preachers like me, you should find someone like Rev. Brown to settle down with. Your mother was probably right. You have good qualities that she recognized since she is a preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(seems frightened)
I don’t want to be married to a preacher! Oh, he may be untouched now, but as soon as he’s married, he’ll turn into you and my father and all of the rest of you.
Rev
(calculating)
I’ll make you a deal. Wait and see if Rev. Brown stays faithful after he’s married. If he cheats, then you can go down your list, starting with me.
Joyce
How do I know you won’t just call the police if I let you go?
Rev
What can I tell them? You haven’t hurt me. (pause) Tell you what, I’ll give you Rev. Brown’s number and you can dial it. I’ll talk to him while you hold the phone.
Joyce
(more frightened)
Talk to him? About what?
Rev
About you.
Joyce
(curious)
About me?
Rev
About our concerns about the morals of the Baptist clergy – of course, about you. He’s single. You’re single. And according to your mother, you have all of the qualities needed to make a good preacher’s wife.
Joyce
(pauses, looking wild eyed, then calms down and walks to the phone mumbling “I never wanted to marry a preacher,” “I can’t be a preacher’s wife”)
O.K. What’s the number?
Rev
555-7301. (she dials the number and brings the phone over so he can talk) Hello, Rev. Man, you still single? I’m asking because I know a young lady whose father was a pastor and she’s a virtuous woman – the kind who’d make a good preacher’s wife. You know, it’s about time we got you married. (pause) She looks good, man. Like my wife when she was young. Matter of fact, she has a Ph.D., so she’s also pretty smart. (pause) Oh, yes, quite stable. She certainly has high moral standards. So, you think you’d like to meet her? (pause) Well, I’m here at her place now. Maybe she wouldn’t mind if you’d drop by. (pause) Here, I’ll let you talk to her.
Joyce
(puts phone to ear)
Hello? (pause) No, I’m not a college professor. I’m actually a researcher at a drug company. (pause) Nothing you’d know, but I do develop drugs. (pause) My address? It’s 410 Michigan Boulevard. It ’s a red brick house. (pause) O.K. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Good-bye. (hangs up phone)
Rev
See? That was great! Now, we have found a virtuous man and you can let me go!
Joyce
He sounds like my father must’ve sounded when he was young.
Rev
Young men tend to sound young. Let’s get me out of these ropes!
Joyce
He came to me as a young man in my dreams, you know.
Rev
(momentarily confused)
Rev. Brown?
Joyce
(sadly)
No, my father.
Rev
You told me! If you give me that knife, I’ll cut these ropes myself.
Joyce
(stops dead in her tracks as if startled)
She told me. She said, “Daddy is in the hospital” and I stopped listening because I knew he was not coming home.
Rev
But you said she never told you he was in a coma. (from this point on, neither one is listening to the other until the end)
Joyce
She did, but I wasn’t listening to her. She said, “Daddy’s in the hospital and he’s in a coma.” Then -
Rev
Look you haven’t broken any laws, except kidnapping –
Joyce
- the day before he died, she called and left a voice mail message for me while I was at work. She knew I was at work -
Rev
Just let me go and they can’t even charge you with that!
Joyce
- so I couldn’t understand why she called. She said there was no change. I didn’t even hear the message until I got home the next day.
Rev
(trying to stay calm)
Please, let me go. My wife and son are going to start worrying if I don’t get home soon.
Joyce
I just sat in a chair in my living room, as far as I could from the telephone, waiting for it to ring. It didn’t ring until close to midnight and I knew. (actions mimic dialog) I picked up the phone and it was my brother telling me Daddy had died. (fights back tears)
Rev
(pleading)
I just want to go home. I just want to see my family.
Joyce
He died without ever waking up. The last thing he did, after he had the stroke and before he went into the coma, was pick up Mama’s hand and kiss it. He loved her. After all the pain he put her through, he loved her so much. And he got the chance to show her before he went into that coma. (sirens are heard in the distance) Mama told me. I just couldn’t hear her because a voice was screaming in my head. There it is! Do you hear it?
Rev
(scared)
No, I don’t hear anything! Untie me! Hurry!
Joyce
(listens)
Are those sirens? (looks at him) Who did I call? Who were you talking to? (picks up something from the table and walks toward him as sirens get closer)
Rev
What are you putting in your mouth? (pounding on door and voice screams, “Open up! Police!”) No, please! (she kneels down in front of him with her back to the audience as the pounding and yelling continue) Help me, please! God, help me! (the stage goes dark)
First Police Officer
(Joyce sits in the other chair wearing handcuffs while First Police Officer is examining Rev and the Second Police Officer is guarding their prisoner)
This guy is dead. I think he had a heart attack! I’m calling for an ambulance. (exits as he takes out his walkie talkie)
Second Police Officer
Why’d you do it? Why’d you tie that guy up and rape him?
Joyce
Don’t worry. He died happy.
Second Police Officer
So, you’re so good you can make a man come until he dies.
Joyce
Let me rinse out my mouth and I’ll show you how good I am.
Second Police Officer
I know one thing, you’re a dumb bitch because that guy got you to call the police and give us your address!
Joyce
Take these handcuffs off me and I’ll show you how dumb a bitch I am!
Second Police Officer
Save it for the dykes at the county jail! (First Police Officer enters) Hey, keep an eye on Ms. Rapist here while I look around to see if she’s got any more dead bodies hidden around here somewhere. (exits)
First Police Officer
(looks at Rev’s limp body)
Poor guy. Least he died happy.
Joyce
You better believe it, officer. Could you give me that bottle of mouthwash on the table? My mouth’s a little sticky. (he smiles at her knowingly, picks up the bottle, opens it, and pours a little of the liquid from it into her mouth, then sets the bottle down as she swishes the liquid around in her mouth; the he comes over and stands in front of her with his back to the audience and appears to unzip his pants – soon sounds of oral sex are heard and he starts having spasms just as the Second Police Officer enters)
Second Police Officer
(screams in horror as lights go down) NOOOOOOOOO!
Friday, January 15, 2010
I just completed my first screenplay. It's titled " The Little Black Dress". It was inspired by a true story of my one sewing triumph, creating the perfect little black dress while between collges when I went to live with my parents the year I turned 19 after living with my grandmother in Texas since I was seven. My Baptist minister father was upset when I wore the dress to church because it accentuated my then almost non-existent cleavage. My dress disappeared and I've never sewn another garment nor been satisfied with any other black dresses. In the screenplay, my character has flashbacks about that incident and other related past events while covering The Black Dress Charity Ball in Toledo in 2005. It's a very short script, but I enjoyed writing it and can't wait to work on my next one wihich is about 2012.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
I'm Back!
I've neglected this blog for some time now, intoxicated by the experience of blogging on Open Salon. I read a lot of great writing and made a lot of fantastic friends on OS, but it's time for this frigvto hop back ony ownlily pad, mainly because I cannot postvon OS from my iPhone, but also because I don't think OS needs me. There are plenty of writers there andore joining every day. I will still go there to read some of the best writing in the country and add my comments, something I can do on my iPhone. You.can still read my posts there. However, from now on, all my blogging will be here Irvin chit-chat.
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