Note: I am putting this taster onto the Net as an example of my more recent work. Welcome to Paradise is my best piece of writing to date. A version of this opening scene was performed in 2002, under the title Treadmill, as part of the New Writing Festival at the Theatre in the Mill, Bradford. The completed play was performed at the Priestley Centre, Bradford, in June 2003.
Our hero, STEVEN, is asleep on his bed as
the play begins. A sense of stillness. There are signs prominent:
MERIT
= CREDIT
CREDIT = MERIT
The start of the action is signalled by the
bursting on to the stage of a group of mad voiceless creatures who communicate
with whistles in their mouths. These are the Credit Police. They seize STEVEN,
waking him up, and two of them push him off. He is wearing a white t shirt and
boxers. The remaining "Police" rearrange the set for the next scene, whistling
madly all the while.
There is now a desk, with a besuited man behind
it and an empty chair in front of it. STEVEN is bustled on. The Police leave
again.
The man (who is called BLACK) has been pretending to look at
paperwork without noticing STEVEN's arrival. Long pause. Finally he looks up.
BLACK: Ah, good morning.
STEVEN: Morning.
BLACK: Do sit down.
STEVEN: Thanks.
[He sits.]
BLACK: Now, what can I do for
you?
STEVEN: Um?
BLACK: Name?
STEVEN: Oh. Steven Jones.
BLACK:
Hmm. [He looks through his papers, finds a file. Opens it, examines
contents.] Yes. I see. [Looks up.] So. Mr Jones. I suppose you know
why you're here.
STEVEN: No.
BLACK: Yes, you do.
STEVEN: I don't
even know who you are.
BLACK: Pardon me. Black.
STEVEN: Sorry?
BLACK: I'm Black.
STEVEN: Oh. Good.
[BLACK has moved round the
desk, and is perched on a corner now, looking at STEVEN.]
BLACK: So.
You don't know why you're here.
STEVEN: No.
BLACK: If I told you your
credit rating has gone way down…..
STEVEN: I've been off work.
BLACK: That's no excuse. How long have you been off?
STEVEN: A week.
Flu. I'm better now.
BLACK: Hm. And all that time you've been losing
credits. Of course. Steven, you know how it goes. You've got to keep your
credits topped up or you get in trouble. Credit equals merit.
STEVEN
[overlapping]: Credit equals merit.
BLACK: No credit, no merit.
[Pause.] Do you know why you're here now?
STEVEN: I can guess.
BLACK [stands up, goes back round desk]: Everyone wants to be a good
citizen, don't they? A useful cog in the social machine. Everyone wants to have
merit. And merit equals credit. But you don't have credit any more, do you? You
slipped down into the red zone….. three hours ago. And the question is:
what can we do about it?
[Sits.]
STEVEN: You tell me.
BLACK:
You see, strictly speaking you're not a citizen any more. Naturally. You've
deprived yourself of all merit because you haven't been putting anything into
the system. You have no privileges, no rights. Nothing. Technically speaking
you don't actually exist any more. So.
[Pause. STEVEN getting
nervous.]
STEVEN: You're going to… kill me?
[Long pause.
BLACK looks at him, blank. Finally he laughs.]
BLACK: God, no! Who do
you think we are? No, I'm here to help you. I'm your rehabilitation officer.
Black.
STEVEN [relaxing, relieved]: Oh! Good.
BLACK: I'm here to
get you back into credit, make you a useful member of society again. And that's
what everyone wants, isn't it?
STEVEN: Mm.
BLACK: I'll take that as a
yes. So. Let's go through your file, see where you went wrong. [Leafs
through file for a few seconds. Looks up sharply.] Been to the pub lately?
STEVEN: No, I've been sick.
BLACK: Haven't been out for a few jars?
STEVEN: No.
BLACK: Why not?
STEVEN: I've been sick.
BLACK:
That's no excuse. [Starts writing on pad.] So! No socialising in the
evening…. That loses you credits to start with. Over seven days….
That makes…. Hmm. And no drinking, with a cost to the breweries of….
[Pause.] How much do you drink?
STEVEN: I haven't been drinking.
BLACK: But when you do.
STEVEN: Usually a couple of pints.
BLACK:
That all?
STEVEN: Any more than that and I act stupid.
BLACK: Oh.
[Back to pad. Makes a quick calculation and puts it down. Looks up.] So
you don't get drunk anyway.
STEVEN: I don't like it.
BLACK: It's
your duty as a citizen. How can you be a cohesive part of the social fabric if
you don't act like everyone else? You don't get bladdered, that's a steady
drain on the breweries, and that harms the economy. You don't vomit in the
streets, less work for the street cleaners. You don't pick fights, that hits
the police, the hospitals, the bouncers…. You can't go on like this.
STEVEN: But I don't want to be like that.
BLACK: What does it matter
what you want? [Pause.] Listen, Steve, you're not a citizen any more.
You're a nothing. You're not in a position to make demands. We can do what the
hell we like with you because you've no rights. This is a meritocracy, and
merit equals credit, and you don't have any credit. So don't say "I don't want"
as if I gave a sod. I can do what the hell I like with you and no one can touch
me. [Pause.] This is me being nice. I'm giving you the chance to get
back to life. Right?
STEVEN [frightened]: Right.
BLACK: So let's
get on. [He writes this down:] Point One: Go boozing every night. Four
pints.
STEVEN [pause]: Okay.
BLACK: Now. Drugs.
STEVEN:
Don't take them.
BLACK: Why not?
STEVEN: Needles make me faint. I've
got a doctor's note.
BLACK: Ecstasy?
STEVEN: Brings me out in a rash.
BLACK: Pot?
STEVEN: Makes me sneeze.
BLACK: You're not being
helpful. The drugs industry is the linchpin of the economy. Do you know how
much money it makes a year?? You need to make the effort, it's not that hard
really.
STEVEN: I don't want to end up a heap of bones in a corner
somewhere.
BLACK: You dear old-fashioned thing you. Drugs are good for you,
better than whole-wheat bread. I can show you the report if you like. They
promote well-being and happiness, reduce stress, make you attractive… make
you a terrific dancer. But I don't need to sell all this to you. You don't have
a choice, do you? [Writes.] Point Two: Get a drug addiction. Ecstasy
will do to start with. I'll get the doctor to give you some skin cream.
[Pause.] Sex.
STEVEN [automatic]: Not now, thanks. [Look from
BLACK.] Sorry.
BLACK: When did you last have sex? [Pause.] Well?
STEVEN: Bit of a trick question, that. Like "When did you last beat your
wife?"
[BLACK looks at him long and steady.]
BLACK: You're not
serious. [Pause.] How old are you?
STEVEN: Twenty-two.
BLACK:
And a virgin?
STEVEN: Yes.
BLACK: Really?
STEVEN: Yes.
BLACK:
Ludicrous. Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we? What's the
problem, anyway?
STEVEN: I think it must be the fact that I'm unspeakably
hideous.
BLACK: Yes, that could be it. Hmm. No sexual contact at all, then?
With other people.
STEVEN: None.
BLACK [sigh]: I can't work out
how you've stayed in credit this long. Sex is the most reliable credit boost
there is. It's social, intimate, and addictive. I thought everyone started at
the age of fourteen these days.
STEVEN: Well, I'm different.
BLACK: You
certainly are. Freak. [Looks at paper.] Hmm. Difficult. We'll have to
have you shagging like a rabbit, of course, but I'm not sure how we can manage
it. The things we have to do in this job….. [Makes note.] Right. I
think that covers it. Drink, drugs, shagging. Oh, and chatting with your mates.
If you have any.
STEVEN: Oh, yes, I've got one or two.
BLACK: Thank
Christ for small mercies. Remember, any social contact increases your credit
rating. In fact, I'll have to remember to calculate this interview into your
total. [Looks at watch.] Ten minutes low key socialising, no physical
contact or exchange of bodily fluids…. Comes out at…. [Makes note.
Presses buzzer on desk.] You see how easy it is? We'll have you a fine
upstanding citizen again in no time.
[A large tough-looking man comes
in.]
Ah! This is Brian.
STEVEN: Hello.
BRIAN: Hello.
BLACK:
Brian is a psychopath. He enjoys hurting people… in quite inventive ways,
actually. He is also a high-ranking civil servant. Social contact with Brian
comes with a very high credit rate, particularly if you make him happy. Steven,
I want you to make Brian happy. [Looks at watch.] Twenty minutes should
get you back in the black. With a bit of leeway, obviously, to tide you over
till we get you back into the daily grind. Call it a booster.
[STEVEN
has frozen in his seat in terror… a slow burn as he realises what is
happening. He staggers to his feet, but BRIAN (who has been standing very near)
grabs his arms so he can't get away.]
BLACK: Don't worry. Brian doesn't
do any permanent damage. Usually.
[BRIAN pushes STEVEN in front of him
out of the office.]
BLACK [calling after him]: I've made an
appointment. Same time next week. Okay?
[They have gone. BLACK writes
for a few seconds. Rings buzzer, calls out:]
Next!