Cigarette?
Nahum Reduta
1151 Jack London Dr.
Vallejo CA 94589
(408) 506-7880
pyrophile408@aol.com
Fade In:
Ext. City Streetcorner - Day
A storefront in a lightly frequented part of downtown, a few blocks away from the business sector--Benedict (40's, male) is down on his luck but not yet disillusioned by street life. Coffee in hand, he seeks the rest of his "breakfast."
Benedict
(to passersby)
Hey, buddy, lend a smoke? Got a cigarette?
Benedict is refused in various ways.
Benedict
(to a smoking passerby)
Hey, can you spare a smoke?
Passerby
Go smoke yourself.
Benedict
Screw you, man. I hope you choke.
Enter Max Perry (21, male), a college student. He is finely, but simply dressed.
Max
Such a simple thing to ask for... People have no decency these days.
Max hands Benedict a cigarette, which he accepts. Benedict pulls out a spent lighter.
Benedict
You're telling me, man. I wasn't even laying on the heat or anything. Just a smoke, that's all I wanted.
Max
Good to hear. How long have you been-
Benedict
(fumbles with lighter)
Hey, why don't you fire one up yourself?
Max
Me? I don't smoke.
Benedict
That's funny, man. Seriously, pull one out. It's a hard day.
Max
No, I'm all right. I just had some questions.
Benedict
Fine by me. Just light me up.
Max reaffirms his non-smoking ways with a stare.
Benedict
What's up with that, man? That's a strange thing to do, carrying a pack, if you're not going to use it.
Max
Well, I am using it, in my own way.
Benedict
Bullshit, man. It's almost like you're trying to get rid of something or ... something.
Benedict realizes that his lighter won't light and tosses it in a garbage can.
He walks off in search of another; Max follows him.
Benedict
What, are these laced with something?
Max
No, not at all. I just figured it made for a warm introduction.
Benedict
Well, yeah. It's pretty generous of you and all, but still...you're missing out on a good thing.
(coughs harshly)
Max
I must be. Tell me, ...
Benedict
Benedict.
Max
Right, Benedict. Call me Max.
Benedict
(coughs)
Max... There's this crazy old man hangs around Second, calls himself Max.
Max
Lungs tender from all that smoke, huh?
Benedict takes visible offense to Max's comment.
Benedict
Are you trying to lecture me, kid?
Max
No, I'm just curious, that's-
Benedict
Hey, listen, you offer someone a gift, you don't rough them up about it. You look like a smart kid, and I know you're up to something, but right now-
Max
You're right, I am up to something, I guess. I'm a psych student-
Benedict finds a used book of matches.
Benedict
-and you've come to psyche me up, huh?
Max
Class project... You understand, right? I study people.
Benedict
Yeah, I'm one of your statistics now. You hooked me, kid.
Max
I'd say you hooked yourself.
Benedict stops walking, more irritated than ever.
Benedict
What the hell do you mean by that?
Max
You know these things are addictive, right?
Benedict
Know what?
(points towards skyscrapers)
Some time ago, I managed a corporation. I was in charge. I was made. Then one day, some venture punkass tells me that there's this revolution coming, that I need to catch it to take my business further.
Benedict tries to light a match.
Benedict
(presents cigarette)
Offered me some capital, a little gift, just like you did... Offered me capital if I would take my business online. And all this money comes pouring in, like magic. It comes, until it doesn't, and my business tanks, and my family leaves, -
The book of matches proves useless; Benedict throws it to the ground.
Benedict
-and I'm fucked out of everything I used to have, everything I pulled together, all because I wanted. I got smoked out. And now I'm here, getting harassed by punk kids like you, waiting 'til I go insane or something.
Max
I'm sorry. I really am.
Benedict throws the cigarette at Max.
Benedict
So am I. You can have your smoke, man.
Max departs, defeated.
Ben throws his coffee in anger. He changes his mind about the cigarette, picking it up off the ground and searches for a light.
Benedict
(to a passerby)
Hey, you got a light?
Fade out: