10-Minute Plays | Ten-Minute Plays
Production Rights  |  Scenes for Actors  |  Monologues  |  Online store  |  Theatre News  |  Links

a scene from

by Pete Malicki

[Gary stands around drinking wine from a cask.  He looks bored.]

BLARNEY: [from offstage] Gary!

GARY: Shit.

[Gary frantically drinks the wine.  He looks at the bag; tries to stuff it in his pocket but it doesn’t fit.  He empties it into a potted plant and tries again, but it still doesn’t fit in his pocket so he throws it offstage.  Blarney enters, sharply dressed.]

BLARNEY: Gary, I’ve done something really stupid.

GARY: What?

BLARNEY: I’m in some serious shit.

GARY: What’d you do?

BLARNEY: Oh man.  I’m screwed.  I’m gonna lose my damned pension.

GARY: Blarney, what the fuck?

BLARNEY: I killed the hero.

GARY: You what?

BLARNEY: I shot him, right in the neck.  He’s cactus, Gary.

GARY: I hope you’re joking Blarney.  This had better be a bad joke.

BLARNEY: I hit an artery and he just bled like a cow in a slaughterhouse.  He’s deader than MC Hammer.

GARY: You’re serious, aren’t you?


You’re not going to lose your pension; you’re going to lose your balls.  The boss is gonna cut the hairy little fuckers off and eat them with a spoon.

BLARNEY: Oh God.  Don’t say that.

GARY: I’d better go take a look.

[Gary frowns, then walks offstage to where Blarney is pointing.  He returns moments later.]

You killed the fucking hero!

BLARNEY: I noticed.

GARY: Well why the fuck did you do that?!

BLARNEY: It was a bloody accident.

GARY: Were you aiming at him?


GARY: No?  No?!  What the hell do you think you were doing?  Why the fuck do you think we have our guns calibrated thirty degrees to the left?  All you have to do is aim vaguely near the damn bastard, shoot, and miss.

BLARNEY: Well I missed missing.

GARY: You’re a goon, Blarney.  Goons aren’t supposed to kill the fucking heroes.

BLARNEY: It was a god-damned accident Gary!  He came in on me while I was taking a piss and I spun around and shot at the wall near him.  I took half his bloody head off.

GARY: You were pissing in the storeroom?

[Blarney opens his mouth a few times to talk but doesn’t have an answer.]

What are we going to do now, mate?  The hero’s dead.

BLARNEY: I don’t know.

GARY: We have to do something.  We can’t lose the main good guy halfway through.  He’s only allowed to die at the fucking end in a moment of supreme poignancy, not in the storeroom because he spooked some arsehole who couldn’t find the toilet.  What kind of a conclusion is that?

BLARNEY: I don’t know.

GARY: I have an idea.


You have to be the hero.

BLARNEY: Oh god.

GARY: No, seriously.  Take his outfit.  It’s your only hope.

BLARNEY: Oh god.

GARY: Seriously!

[Blarney puts his face in his hands, then jumps in surprise.   He pulls his phone out of his pocket.]

BLARNEY: Ah fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.  It’s him.

GARY: The boss?


GARY: Don’t answer it!  You’re dead.  The hero chased you into the storeroom and shot you.  Now go and get his clothes.

[Blarney dithers, then runs offstage.  Gary sighs, shakes his head, then jumps as his phone vibrates.  He pulls it out, looks at it, then looks crestfallen.]

GARY: Hello sir.  Yep.  Yes.  No sir, I haven’t.  I’m not scheduled to have a run in until five seventeen, sir.  Certainly sir.

            [hangs up]

Oh boy.

[Blarney returns dressed in a tight, red spandex suit and ball mask with red streamers coming out of his pants.]

BLARNEY: I look like a twonk.

GARY: Yeah, Riverman kinda looks like a twonk, doesn’t he?

BLARNEY: Trust me to kill the only gay action hero known to man.

GARY: What about Robin?

BLARNEY: He wasn’t gay.  He was just… well, he was kinda gay.

GARY: Blarney, we need to focus.  I just got a call from the main bad guy and he’s on his way down.  He was pretty pissed off the hero hadn’t arrived for their initial showdown.  It’s the one where the hero loses.

BLARNEY: What are we going to do?

GARY: You’re Riverman now.  You’re going to have to confront him.

BLARNEY: Oh no no no.  I only know one fucking move, man.  My training covered nothing more than the necessities.  I block to the right, then I take a wild swing, then I get blasted.

GARY: I hear you.  I only know how to do a big karate chop to the neck and shoulders.  It’s really quite inadequate.

BLARNEY: I knew we should’ve joined that union.

GARY: Yeah, but come on.  The “Goon Union” sounds ridiculous. Hey!  Why don’t you use Riverman’s special powers?

BLARNEY: What are they?

GARY: You don’t know?

BLARNEY: No.  Why would I?  All I know is that the fucker’s supposed to blow my head off.  I don’t care what he does for a living.

GARY: Bugger.  I don’t know either.


Hit me.

BLARNEY: Oh god.

GARY: You have to.  You can’t beat Monsieur Poulette with a block and a punch.   Hit me.  Come up with some new moves.

BLARNEY: Don’t be retarded.  I’m not going to become Jackie Chan in two minutes.

GARY: I want you to hit me as hard as you can.

BLARNEY: Alright... Wait!  What’s that? … ah fuck, it’s him!

GARY: Shit.

BLARNEY: You’re dead!  I’m the hero, I killed you.  Quick, be dead!


[Gary looks around, then collapses.]

* * *

Purchase the full script of this play

Copyright © 2010 by Pete Malicki

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that The Goon is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional and amateur stage performing, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

Inquiries concerning all rights should be addressed to the author at petemalicki@gmail.com



Home  |  Playwrights  |  Comedies  |  Dramas  |  Cast Size  |  FAQs