Saturday, 8 April 2017

Tramps a play from 30 years ago



 



                        Tramps  ©  
                    (Stage Version)
                             
                          by

                     Michael Casey



The stage,  in one corner a bench, in another a signpost and a phonebox.
A doorway of a bank in another, a cafe in the fourth corner.The scene
opens with the shadow of stained glass window in the centre, church music
in the background.The rest of the stage is dimly lit.As the spotlight is
raised on the "church" we see a priest arguing with a tramp.The tramp is
very badly dressed even for a tramp.He has a cargigan on, with buttons
done up wrongly, a jacket dirty and one pocket falling off, he has an
overcoat as well, one arm of which is held om with safety pins.He is
wearing trousers with the flies undone, dirty underwear pokes through.On
his feet are dirty trainers, the sole of one coming off, so it flaps as
he walks.The priest is a bit effeminate.



Priest:Go, I gave you two pounds already.
Tramp :I'm saying my prayers.
Priest:You say that at all the churches.
Tramp :I'm very religious.
Priest:Be off with you, you are frightening all my flock.
Tramp :I'm hungry.
Priest:I gave you a bottle of milk and a big sandwich.
Tramp :That was before the first service.
Priest:Be off with you, shoo.
Tramp :I'm not a bleeding cat.
Priest:Well just go away, you smell, my flock don't like it.
Tramp :You sound like a bleeding shepherd, where's your dog ?


The tramp looks around and whistles.


Priest:Will you just go !


The priest stamps his foot and points.


Tramp:I was going anyway.


The tramp shuffles off, the priest puts his hands together then puts on
his best angelic face before disappearing into the shadows. The church
music raises for a moment then falls away. The tramp looks back at him.


Tramp:Bleeding poof, all rosary beeds and no balls.


The tramp adds a V sign for good measure.He rattles two pound coins in his
hand before putting them into his pocket.


Tramp:He calls himself a Christian, he treats me like a leper.Unclean
      unclean.


The tramp sniffs under his arms, then scratches his bum.


Tramp:I had a bath two months ago, the Sally Army insisted in fact.


The Tramp goes towards the audience (WE COULD ACTUALLY MAKE HIM SMELL).
He sniffs under his other arm.


Tramp:Better than the countyside. Here what do you think ?


At this point he lunges towards the audince, (WE COULD USE A "PLANT").


Tramp:Too much water is back for you, it washes all the good out of you.


The tramp fiddles with the safety pins on his coat.Then reaches for a rag
in a pocket so he can wipe his nose. The rag is disgusting, he drops it
when he's finished rubbing his nose, then walks a few paces before coming
back for it.


Tramp:I don't want to loose you, do I.


The tramp then clears his throat and spits (Black Country fashion).


Tramp:I've caught a cold. It's all these priests kicking me out of their
      churches as soon as they spot me.


The tramp comes to the bench with a bin by it. He sits down.


Tramp:Priests, what a bunch prats, all holy water and "hellos", but
       not to me. It's "On your Bike", or "Here's a quid now get lost my
       ladies are coming ".


The tramp spits again.


Tramp:Not that I'm saying they'll all bad, just some of them, well that
      one anyway, he's a shit. He's all "Love thy neighbour" but when I
      turn up what does he do. He tells me to go, doesn't he. No "Sit
      at my table, brother ". He knows nothing he's so young, he looks
      as if his barely left his mother's nipple.


The tramp sucks his thumb mockingly.


Tramp:The old priests and vicars treat you better. I once did very well.


The tramp leans back on the bench and settles to tell his story.


Tramp:I got locked in a church the once. I had found a warm place in an
      old confessional, on the priests side, there was an electric fire
      in there and a packet of biscuits. So I ate the biscuits and I must
      have fallen asleep. In the morning the priest found me, he did not
      say a word only he led me into the kitchen and gave me his own
      breakfast. He acted as waiter in fact and said "I hope everything
      is to Sir's satisfaction", the difference was he gave me a tip when
      I'd finished.That's how priests should be, like that one, Fr.Shaw
      he said he was from Kerry - I think that's near Newcastle.


The tramp coughs then spits again. A mother with a pram stops and sits
down on the same bench on the extreme end, away from the tramp.The tramp
looks at her.


Tramp:Lets have a look at the baby, is it a girl,  I like girls.


The tramp gets up and leans on the pram to look in, the baby cries, the
woman jumps up then hurries away with the pram.



He scatches his bum again, then reaches in his pocket for half a sandwich
and finishes it.


Tramp:What's the matter with her, I like children I wouldn't do it any
      harm.


The tramp sighs, then moves to the bin.


Tramp:Lets's see what's in my larder.


He empties the bin. One of the disgarded items is a newspaper with the
headline "Mother Theresa Urges Magie to Act" and a photo.The tramp finds
a half eaten cake and a half full can of coke. He moves towards the
audience.


Tramp:Do you want some ? Well you cann't have any its mine, bugger off.


He laughs at his own joke.


Tramp:The things people throw away you'd be surprized.


He has his "feast".


Tramp:I once got a wedding cake, there was a girl crying next to the bin
      she cried even more when I took it out. I wonder why ?


He picks his nose and eats it.


Tramp:There's salt in it.


Then he washes it down with a swig of coke, before beltching loudly.


Tramp:I got this coat in a bin , good isn't it.


He moves towards the audience and puts on his best "catwalk" walk, gives
a twirl before sitting down.


Tramp:I was beaten up by some kids that's how the arm got torn. Kids more
      like animals, they get pissed on a weekend then think its fun to
      attack us. I got one of them though , I kicked him right in the
      bollocks, His mates really belted me for that, but what was I
      supposed to do ? Sit there and say thankyou. The police found me
      and sent for an ambulance. At the hospital they patched me up then
      kicked me out. They said I smelt too much.


He sniffs under his arms again.


Tramp:I better make a move, I usually get a bite at Tim's cafe.


He moves around the stage a few times  till the spot picks out the cafe.
He gets a tea and a pie, a nod of recognition from the cafe man. The
cafe is shabby, lorry drivers and all night taxi people use it.
Four drivers come in and sit at the other table.


Driver 1:What a stink.
Driver 2:I can smell it too.
Driver 3:It's Fred's aftershave.
Driver 4:Bollocks !
Driver 3:So that's what it is.
Driver 4:It's that bleeder over there.
Driver 1:He shouldn't be allowed in here.
Driver 3:They let Fred in.
Driver 4:Can you give me a break.
Driver 3:Which leg do you want me to drive over.
Driver 4:Ha, bleeding ha.
Driver 2:It's a shame really.
Driver 3:You're joking , they bring it on themselves.
Driver 4:He's right there, he could at least tidy himself up.


The drivers look at him.


Driver 2:The poor bastard.
Driver 3:The idle bastard more like.
Driver 4:What he needs is a bath.
Driver 1:And a shave.
Driver 3:Don't give him any of Fred's aftershave for God's sake.
Driver 4:I think I'll go and let the tires down on your lorry.


Driver 4 gets up and walks away.


Driver 3:I better follow him, he did it the other week.


Driver 3 gets up and chases after driver 4, the other two laugh. Driver2
stops at the tramps table and puts a quid on it before leaving.Driver 3
comes back in.


Driver 3:Ken, can I use your phone , Fred's gone and let my tyre's down.


The tramp smiles when he hears this, the driver sees him so he picks up
the quid off the table.


Driver 3:George is always giving you money, well I need it more than you


The tramp gets up to protest.


Driver 3:What you going to do ,  fight me ?


Cafe man:Give him back his money.
Driver 3:Why should I ?


The cafe man glares.So the driver throws it  out of the cafe the tramp
follows the money out. The cafe dims behind the tramp as he picks up the
money.


Tramp:I have to put up with that from shits like him, people think they
      can bully me just because I'm down on my luck. The cafe man is a
      good un, he lets me have the leftovers, and he only charges 50p.
      He's so much better than smartarses like the driver.



The tramp shuffles on stopping to spit twice, then coming to the bench he
sits down.


Tramp:People don't care about us, they rush by when they see us or turn
      the other way .



A man in a business suit stops by the bench to do up his shoe lace, the
tramp gets up and shuffles over hoping to get something. The tramp stands
behind the business man. As the man does up his shoe the tramp mimics him
The tramp has to stop suddenly when the man finishes. Then he half raises
his hand to beg for money, the business man dusts himself off before giv-
ing a look of disgust then looks at his Rolex before going away. The tramp
then raises his hand fully in a V sign. Meanwhile the business man has
stept into some dog mess. The business man cries "Shit oh , Shit ".
The business man hobbles off shaking his foot.The tramp sits down again.
 

Tramp:Serves the bastard right, wouldn't even give me a few bob. He's
      the kind that think I make œ30 a day begging. œ30 my arse, more
      like œ3. And that'll only buy one meal, the prices thay charge in
      town, its robbery. And I've been robbed too. Some junkie stole
      my savings when I was in a hostel, the bastard. So I didn't have
      the price for a bedsit then I ended up like this.



The tramp wheezes then spits.


Tramp:This weather is bad for me, I cann't stand the cold. I used to be
      a gardener in a heated glasshouse.


He smile as he remembers his better days, he gets up as if in a dream he
walks around his imaginary greenhouse.


Tramp:Hello tulips, hello sweet pea, hello roses, hello cabbage you're
      looking a little dry, shall I give you some water ?


He picks up an imaginary watering can and waters here and there, he is
smiling.


Tramp:Yes I love you, my friends so nice and colourful and sweet smelling
      I was sweet smelling then too.


His face changes now he realises his hands are holding a watering can that
is no more, nor ever more shall be. He drops his hand, with one he rubs
his eyes, but tears don't come, he is past tears. He brings out his rag
with the other hand, he blows his nose hard. There is a large hole in
the rag.


Tramp:It's no use thinking of the past , I'm here now.


Slowly he goes back to his bench then sits down at one end. A couple come
by and sit at the other end, eying the tramp with unease.


Boy :But we should buy a car.
Girl:No, that money is for a house.
Boy :But if I get a car I can get a better job and that means more money
     for a bigger house and for carpets and things.
Girl:But what if I'm pregnant ?
Boy :But you said you were on the pill.


The boy is shocked and indignant.


Girl:It takes two you know, why didn't you do something about it.
Boy :But its up to the girl.
Girl:Typical. Sometimes I think you men still live in the Stone Age. You
     would soon change your tune if you had babies. If you got morning
     sickness and put on a few stones.
Boy :Don't be daft.
Girl:It's you who's daft, you just don't care, you're only interested in
     yourself. That tramp cares more for me than you do.


The girl points at the tramp then runs off crying, the boy chases after
her, with cries of "I'm sorry, we won't buy a car with your mother's
money " and "Are you pregnant , go on tell me " echoing till they
disappear.


Tramp:Kid's they're barely out of nappies and now his girl is up the spout


The tramp picks his nose then flicks it.


Tramp:That was a good bogey, where's my handkerchief.


He finds his rag then daps his nose.


Tramp:In a way life is like this hanky - all crumpled and full of snot.


He laughs at his own joke before changing his position on the bench and
continuing, looking at his rag as he speaks.


Tramp:Life is full of corners and disasters, its never as you plan. You
      survive the crumples and think your clever, then wham you end up in
      the snot.


He takes aim then throws his  rag in the bin 


Tramp:I might find another one  tomorrow, that one was good, I had it
      four months. It dropped out of a gents pocket, I picked it up and
      held it out so he could take it back, he just walked away. So I
      kept it. There was some lipstick on the corner of it but I didn't
      mind, I used to image what type of girl it came from. Fat, thin,
      ugly or nice, his wife, his mistress or perhaps his mother. Then
      I used to image them kissing me, only it faded away after a month
      or so.


The couple reappear still arguing before exiting again.


Tramp:I wish I had their problems, they don't know how lucky they are.Its
      nice to be close, to have family, friends and "lovers". I used to
      be a family man, but that was before. I used to be quite a looker
      in my youth. People said I could have been a film star  with my
      looks, a Clark Gable or a Sean Connery or even a Harrison Ford.


The tramp brushes back his hair and dabs his eyebrows. Then he jumps up
and confronts the audience.


Tramp:I was ! The girls all chased me, I was known as a fancy dresser,
      heads turned when I entered a room, women used to throw themselves
      at me. I used to jive real good too. The twist was my speciality.


The tramp does a few steps then stiffens up before heading back to his
bench.


Tramp:Yes that was before.


He looks into space a small smile on his face.


Tramp:That was when I was young, when I was loved, when people knew my
      name, when people were pleased to know me. And now ?


He jumps up off his bench and takes a few steps towards the audience.


Tramp:Do you know my name, well do you ?


He looks accusingly at the audience, he gives piercing looks at them,
making them each feel unfortable.Then he moves back to his bench and sits.


Tramp:No of course you don't, you only came in to shelter from the rain.
      Why should you want to know me. An untidy  smelly man, a walking
      scarecrow, even dogs won't lick my hand - so  why should any of you
      want to shake it. People used to rush to greet me, "I've ordered
      you a pint" they'd say. And "Have a cigar ", yes I was somebody
      once - people knew my name. That was before, all it took was a bit
      of bad luck, then another bit , till I kept on sliding down the
      snake of life, only in life you cann't role a six to get a ladder
      back up again. There's nobody there to help you once you are in the
      pit. I used to have nice things like you.


He gets up again and stands toe to toe with the audience.He eyes them and
speaks with sarcasm.


Tramp:Nice watch you've got there. A nice dress, an expensive pair of
      jeans, a lovly pair of shoes - real leather no doubt. A nice top
      too, I can see your belly buttom it dips so low. I bet your bra
      cost more than everything I've got, or "Sir's" tie cost more. Is
      Paisley back in fashion ? Well I've got one too !


He rummages in his pocket and brings out a moth eaten Paisley tie then
with a flourish he puts it on.


Tramp:There, I'm as good as you. I bet I could even steal your girl too!

The tramp puts his best "come to bed " look on and leers at one woman.
He is crestfallen again and goes back to his bench.He plays with the tie.


Tramp:What's that smell ? Its coming from the tie.


He sniffs the tie then licks it, it is jam on it.


Tramp:It's only jam. But if its jam, then there most be something else


He searches the pocket where the tie was then pulls out a piece of toast
with jam on. then with realish he eats it.He glares back at the
audience. He turns his back on them as he eats.


Tramp:I know what you're thinking, well you cann't have any, you didn't
      say how much you liked my tie so sod off I'm having it all. Besides
      there's barely enough  for me.
 

He uses the tie as a serviette to wipe his mouth then rearranges his tie.


Tramp:I used to go to restaurants quite regular, and I don't mean curry
      houses either. I used to go with my wife and the kids. You didn't
      think I had any did you ? Well I did.


He coughs then spits over the back of the bench.


Tramp:We were a happy family, we even went to church quite often. How
      many of you do that ? You only go for a few months so you can have
      your "white weddings", but you slip up even then and the bride is
      in the club when she has her "white wedding".


He gets up and pushes his stomach out as he waddles up the imaginary isle
hands on stomach, and humming the wedding march. Then he sits down again


Tramp:Then after the "white wedding", its "piss off" preacher and you go
      back to being "Stars on Sunday" christians. When you get old and
      wringled though you start paying into your "insurance policy" and
      the vicar sees you for the first time in 30 years , save for the
      odd christening or two.


He waves his finger accusingly at them.


Tramp:I even took the mother in law to the restaurant with us, twice a
      month we'd go. It was a real family occasion. We had lots to eat
      and drink aand had lots of laughs.


He shakes his head with longing for the happy days.


Tramp:Now my mother in law won't even recognise me, and if she did she'd
      cross the street to avoid me. And so do you ! Think I'm too stupid
      to notice don't you.


He points accusingly at the audience.


Tramp:I see you crossing the street, afraid to be near me , think I'm a
      leper or I've got this Aids cold or something. Perhaps I have.


He coughs and spit violently again, then has a fit of coughing with spit
hanging from his mouth. He daps his mouth with his tie.


Tramp:Hey you sexy, showing your belly button do you fancy me now ?


He wheezes again, puts his head between his legs and coughs. He sits
upright again.


Tramp:Well your boyfriend will be just like me, give it time, say 50 yrs
      You'll all be like me, so don't mock me. It's living the way I do
      that speeds things up. Look  at me and you'll see yourself, you'll
      all all get old, get shabby. You look fine now with your hairdoes
      and fine clothes, your gold watches and designer jeans. But what
      about the future. What goes up must come go down. Anyone of you
      could be like me.


He gets up and stands close to the audience.


Tramp:I could be your father, your uncle, your brother, your husband,
      your lover, how do you treat me if I was ? Would you still cross
      the road to avoid me, or would you help me ? You disown me, treat
      me like a convict, worse even. I'm a nobody, you don't want to
      see me, you wish I was invisible, you want me to crawl back into
      the cracks in the pavement, then you avoid stepping on the cracks,
      as if I'm dog shit. I did the same myself when I was like you, but
      now I'm in the snot I wish I didn't. You think I'm a beggar or a
      thief, ok I don't refuse anything  but what's wrong with that ? I
      need every scrap that comes my way. As for being a thief I wish I
      was at least I'd have a steady roof over my head and regular meals,
      I heard prison was good nowdays. You know more about that than me,
      one or two of you look quite shifty, you probably stole those nice
      things you've got, how can younsters like you afford such things.


He starts to cough again then sits down again, still wheezing. A young
man walks by and puts some money in the tramps hand  then disappears. The
tramp finishes wheezing and watches the man go away.


Tramp:He's a good lad, he always gives me a quid, turns up from nowhere
      then disappears again. I wish there were more like him. Instead
      of those toffee nosed people in furs who leave churches in their big
      cars and give me  looks of disgust, I wonder how much they give to
      their priests. I think those Indian lot are good. I once got lost
      and ended up in an Indian area, so I had a look inside their temple
      it was different from a church, there was no crucifix for starters.
      Whole families were there and it wasn't even a Sunday. They gave me
      lots of sweet tea and a big meal, they were very generous, I did-
      n't have the heart to tell them I didn't really like curry, so I
      only had the three portions. Now that's how I should be treated.


He sits still for a while, then a woman approaches, she is dressed for
her job - prostitute. He has another fit of coughing now.


Pro  :Hello, how are you love ?Looking after yourself are you.I'm really
      buggered myself, I had a customer who must have weighed 17 stones.
      He nearly killed me, "men on top" was all he said, he didn't want
      to talk or anything. Just get his money's worth then he left, I'm
      sure he's broken one of the legs on the bed. I've already got a tin
      of beans holding up one corner. Talking of beans, he farted all
      the time we were at it - it must have been a nervous reaction, I'd
      say it was his first time - that's with a professional that is.
Tramp:I'm fine thanks for asking.
Pro  :I've been rushed off my feet lately,I think it must be the holidays
      there's a lot more trade about. As they say though - make hay while
      the sun shines. Well I cann't stay here all evening I've got work
      to do, I'm trying to make enough for my holidays. Well bye then.


She walks away, then comes back  and takes a fiver from  inside her bra
and puts it in the tramps hand.Then she kisses him on the cheek.


Pro  :You always bring me luck, bye then.
Tramp:Thanks.


He watches her walk away , then looks at the money in his hand.


Tramp:How many of you young uns would give me a fiver ?


He holds his hand aloft. Then brings his hand down in one motion to give
the audience a V sign.


Tramp:None of you. She gave  me this, her.


He gestures after her.


Tramp:She's a nice girl. You'd call her a tart, a slag, a prostitute or
      a whore. Or a woman of easy virtue if you want to be sarcastic, a
      Noleen No Knickers. Well I'd call her a friend, a help, a kind
      soul - somebody who CARES. She may not look much, but you cann't
      tell by looks. She's not got a nice hairdo, her makeup is smudged
      her stockings are laddered, so would yours be if you took them off
      up to ten times a night if trade is good.



He looks at the audience scanning their faces.


Tramp:How can she do it you say, well so would you if you had to. What
      else can she do, let her children starve ? Yes, she has children
      I've seen her in the park with them when she's not working, they
      are happy kids so full of life. I don't even remember what mine
      look like, but they wouldn't want to know me now. I only hit them
      a few times, not even hard, but that was too much for their mother
      So I ended up on the street, I only hit them because I was at home
      all the time after I lost my job. You'd have done the same.



He scans the audience again.


Tramp:Think you wouldn't don't you ? You think it serves me right the way
      I am now, its what a child beater deserves. It's good enough for
      a wife beater too, I only hit her the once to stop her nagging,she
      kept on nagging "get a job, get a job", only you're on the scrap-
      heap when you're 45 nowadays. Yes I know I look much older but you
      live the way I do then you'd soon look older. I've got no wrinkle
      cream nor hand cream, no lotions and potions,no skin care products
      nor face massage machines. I've got no built in wardrobe to hang
      all my changes of clothes on. My wardrobe is my back, or a wire
      hanger hanging on a street sign if I'm lucky.
 

He looks at the fiver in his hand again.


Tramp:She's a good girl, she always has  something for me. She must be
      a very good girl to afford this.


He flourishes the fiver and laughs like a drain.


Tramp:She isn't all bad, she's only doing what any mother would do for
      her children's sake. Sure she has swallowed her pride but its food
      you live on , not pride. What use is your pride you cann't eat it.
      At least she's doing something, she loves her children so she does
      her best for them in the only "situation Vacant" there is for the
      likes of her. Talk and having morals are of no use if your kids
      don't eat, don't have any toys to play with.


There is a flash of lightning and a rumble of distant thunder, it makes
the tramp jump.


Tramp:I better find my bed for the night.


The tramp gets up and makes a few circuits of the stage before stopping by
the bank.In the doorway are a courting couple.


Tramp:I've slept in that doorway many a night, no girl to keep my spirits
      up either.


He laughs like a drain again.


Tramp:The step is cold but the heat from the central heating inside does
      keep you warm. Those kids don't need it though, they look hot
      enough already, they'll get arrested if they carry on so.


He laughs like a drain again, then has another coughing fit, he spits
then wipes his mouth on his sleeve.


Tramp:I think I'll go home then  before this rain starts.


There is another flash and a distant rumble, he makes a few circuits of
the stage talking as he shuffles along.


Tramp:I sleep in the hostels when I have the money, but I don't like them
      the wardens ask too many questions. They are nosey,wanting to know
      all your business, to know your past, all I want to do is forget
      the past. I've found a few good spots in my time,  once I got into
      one of the office blocks. On the ground floor by the lifts I found
      boxes of paper, it said it was computer paper, all I know was it
      made a good bed, I used the doormat as a blanket. I was soon fast
      asleep, but in the middle of the night one of the computer workers
      came looking for his paper and he found me. The bastard threw me
      out, so I hate computers too - he did give me a quid for some chips
      though. But he's still a bastard !



The tramp stops walking he is now by the phonebox and the signpost,clubs
and theatres are indicated on it. There is another tramp busking, a few
people are listening, they are dressed for a night out.


Tramp:He's good, he makes a few quid, HE can afford the hostels all the
      time. He hasn't got his begging bowl out yet. I better help him


The tramp gets out a carrier bag from his pocket and starts collecting
from the people around the busker.


Tramp:Keep playing I'll collect for you.


The tramp then approaches the audience and begs from them.


Tramp:Come on cough up you lot, you don't think they let you sit in here
      out of the rain for nothing do you ? Come on you skinflints, you're
      as tight as a rocking horse's arse.


The tramp then shames the audience into giving a few pennies.(NOTE:You
may have to hand out pennies before the show starts, or warn the crowd)


Tramp:You lot are really mean.


The tramp then heads back towards the busker, he takes the majority of
the money out of the bag and puts it in his own pocket, then drops the
rest in the bag at the buskers feet. Then he walks away, we hear the
busker play Streets of London. The busker is dimmed into darkness with
his "crowd" applauding.


Tramp:I did the hard work  the collecting so I get the most, besides he
      can afford it. You lot think us tramps are all like him, showing
      "enterprize", if only it were true.



He makes a few more circuits of the stage  talking as he does so.


Tramp:I'll go home now, before I get hungry  or else I won't sleep. I've
      got a nice spot in an old warehouse. I've been there for six months
      it's not much but it's home. I won't have it for long though, the
      council's going to knock it to build a center for the blind crippled
      black lesbian friends of the earth, or something as stupid. I may
      write to them and complain, tell them I'm an endangered species
      a unique example of inner city man. They wouldn't listen so I'll
      not bother,what do you expect from a bunch of freeloaders, a bunch
      of fat arse egotistic boastful boozers.


The tramp has another fit of coughing.


Tramp:I wish this cold would go, it'll be the death of me. Perhaps I'll
      be ok after a nights rest.


The tramp goes to the back of the stage and the lights dim on him, after
a few seconds we hear  morning birdsong and sounds of demolition. A man
wearing a safety helmet appears at the back of the stage, as he walks to
center stage a stretcher bearing the body of the tramp appears.


Worker:Nobody told us he was in there, we were just loading the rubble
       into the dumper trucks when we found his body. He stinks like hell
       he must have been dead a few days.


The stretcher is place center stage, the tramps body had a gash on the
head, in his hand he is clutching the prostitute's fiver.
The lights dim, echos of Streets of London, the spot picks out the face
of the tramp as it dims and fades.





                The End of Stage Version Of Tramps by Michael Casey



 https://www.amazon.co.uk/Michael%20Casey/e/B00571G0YC 















 





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