MRS HUDSON (any gender, mid teens to mid twenties)
Mrs. Hudson? Or do you prefer Marilyn? Ha! I guess you can't really tell me with three layers of tape wrapped around your mouth, huh? Whatever. I'm calling you Marilyn.
Marylin? If you don't nod your head right now, if you don't agree to show me where you and Mr. Hudson hid the cocaine, then I'm going to call the guys back into this nice little house and they are going to paint these pretty white walls red with your blood. Then they're going to find the coke anyway. I'm going to give you a count of five to give me a nod.
T--- Wow, that was quick.
You're up for just totally selling out your husband and showing us-? But, I mean, well...
Good. Smart thinking. Your husband is a dead man anyway. At least now you can save yourself. And remember this Marilyn: You try to mess with me in any way shape or form when leading me to the coke, we will not only kill you but when your kids come home from school- Holy shit, this is really getting to you, isn't it? You're really upset.
Sorry, but the guys told me you had nerves of steel. They chose me to scare you because- ha!- they thought I'd fail miserably then they'd tell the boss and he'd have an excuse to kick me out of the gang-- I'm barely in the gang already, you know this is my first job?
But yeah! You're, like, crying and everything! You're SCARED of me. You're actually SCARED OF ME! You really don't know what that means to me. Really-
Hey, look Marylin, Mrs. Hudson: Tell ya what. You keep this up, you help us find the coke, I'll get my older brother to pull some strings, call off the search for your husband. Bygones, bygones and all that. We really don't care-- hey-hey-hey, no!
For God's sake, don't cheer up!
Copyright 2016 by Matt Haynes. If you would like to use this piece, please credit: "Courtesy of Matt Haynes and The Pulp Stage"