Don't make this hard alan pArt two
(Alan is talking to a mate at the IGA super-store).
Bevan- Well… You DO do it man. Know what I’m sayin’? I always told you you were too nice to that bitch. Yeah… Yeah… She’s all that. She’s all hot and shit. Tight arse, great tits, whole package. You know… nice tight little stomach, smart, great eyes… AND teeth. Great teeth, are those things real? Those teeth. Shit. Great teeth. Or maybe it’s her lips. Maybe it’s the framing’ of the teeth. The frame around em that makes you wanna …
(Alan is silent and looking at Bevan. Bevan stops).
Bevan- bottom line is Alan. She’s root material. She’s quick fuck in the dunnies material. She’s pop the bonnet material. You know what I mean? She aint no lacy under curtain. Though I bet the under curtains pretty lacy eh? Eh? No. Right...I mean, she aint no fucking hand woven silk is she? She aint that sort of material? She’s more like a good satin bed sheet. Those fuckers look great, but when it’s hot they fuckin stick to ya’. Stick to ya’ in the night you know. Roll over, wake up, still there stuck to your back like an annoying monkey. Sure, she’s all that. But really she’s just an annoying stick to your back satin circus monkey with great tits.
Alan- A circus monkey?
Bevan- Yeah. You know those fuckin’ monkeys. They dance around in human clothes and hop on one leg and shit. You know. Satin circus monkey.
Alan- I don’t see the resemblance.
Bevan – Alan. Satin fuckin’ circus fuckin’ monkey. All show, all fuckin’ crowd pleasing to get the peanut, all fuckin aren’t I great I’m a monkey wearin satin and hoppin’ on one leg, but the end of the day they’re not all that are they?
Alan- No?
Bevan- No they’re just a circus monkey in fucked clothes with one stupid trick. It’s funny and all cute and shit the first time, but after a while you just wanna break their little fuckin heads. You just wanna snap their stupid skinny hopping around fuckin legs off and make em stop.
Alan – So you’re sayin she was good for the beginning and now she’s annoying.
Bevan- Zactly! Fuckin annoying and the hoppin on one-foot thing just aint that appealing anymore. She needs to get a new trick Alan. She’s had the same one her whole life. Like a fuckin monkey. She lures all these guys in with her circus sideshow shit, then she complains that she’s overworked and underpaid. A monkey should know its place. After all it’s just a monkey and you are its master. She did the same thing to me.
Alan- You went out with her?
Bevan- Sure. Who hasn’t? She’s no saint Alan, despite what she tries to appear to you. She’ll say she’s all up for long relationships and marriage, for DVD nights at your place, for quiet nights in front of the box, for makin sweet potato and fuckin’ kumera soups with oregano and shit, but the end of the day she just can’t go out cause she’s fucked everyone in the club, pissed them off and no-one will buy her drinks anymore. She’s a fuckin satin circus freak show bitch man and I warned you at the start. Didn’t I? Didn’t I?
Alan- You said she’d be good for me. You set us up.
Bevan- Just to get the bitch off MY back. Geez, so she’d stop hoppin around from foot to foot and pissin me off all the time. Besides you hadn’t been laid in seventy-three months.
Alan- But who’s counting.
Bevan- Everyone. Everyone was counting Alan. Most work places have footy tipping, we had Alan tipping. We’d all choose a number and, and whoever’s number was closest to the amount of months you hadn’t been laid for - took home the bacon.
Alan- You’re joking?
Bevan- DO I JOKE ALAN? DO I JOKE?
Alan- No. Mostly not I spose. So who won?
Bevan- I did. That’s why I hooked you up with the bitch. Two more months and I had overestimated you. I had to get you laid before Greg Ellis from accounts got the prize.
Alan- so what did you win at my expense?
Bevan- The game.
Alan- I know you won the game. But what did you win?
Bevan- Oh… Nothin. It wasn’t about the prize, it was about passin the time in this shithole and havin a good old laugh. It was just for kicks.
Alan- For kicks?
Bevan- Look, bottom line is Tiger… you gotta move on. Move up. Shake a leg, make some moves, kick some goals in between some other sticks. Don’t get all depressed and shit about it. You had a holiday, you got laid and it’s out of your system. Nice work. Move on. Just don’t let it go another seventy odd months before you throw another leg over.
Alan- I’m still in love with her.
(Bevan puts his hand on Alan’s shoulder)
Bevan- Course you are. Course you are. She’s great. She’s hot. She’s sweet and means well. She isn’t a liar… No Alan, she doesn't lie... she just doesn’t know how to go about things the right way. She wants the very same things that petrify her.
Alan- You just said she was a circus monkey.
Bevan- Alan. I said she hopped around like a satin circus monkey. I didn’t say she was one. I just was explaining her personality traits in a descriptive form so you would understand. Adjectives Alan. Describing words. Comprende?
Alan- You know what Bevan. I am trying to understand. I am trying to understand a lot of things right now in my life. I’m just not quite hitting them at full brain capacity.
Bevan- Pam is a doll right? Yeah. Agree with me… she’s a doll.
Alan- I…
Bevan- Just agree with me for a minute for Christs sake Alan. Don’t make this hard Alan. She’s a doll… Right?
Alan- Yeah. A doll.
Bevan- Rite.
(Bevan goes back to packing, Alan waits for an explanation).
Alan- I am failing to see… And maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who’s completely lost the plot… But I am failing… none-the-less to find a point in anything that has transpired today.
Bevan- Pam is adorable. The things she wants are also the things that scare her. She wants them, she means it at the time she says them, then when she gets them… she? SHE?
Alan- Doesn’t want them.
Bevan- No. She wants them but she finds it impossible to have them. There is the conundrum. She wants what she can’t have and has what she can’t want… Grass is greener… Or… She’s complex. Yeah, that's it. She’s beautiful and complex.
Alan- She is.
Bevan- OK. Stop there. Put down the hair dye.
(Alan stops mid packing).
Bevan- Go on. Put it down. Right.
(Alan puts it down and stands up)
Bevan- Imagine going through your entire life being beautiful. Imagine that. You don’t have to form any sort of personality. You don’t need any sort of sense of humour. Those people… they don’t develop because they don’t need them to get by. The only reason people are funny or intelligent, or have a great personality is because they are fuckin’ ugly. Ugly people are less welcome in this day and age. They are treated with less respect, they have the harder road. That’s why they make up for it with another of life’s little known miracles… the personality. Beautiful woman are underdeveloped. Everywhere they go they get what they want. Everywhere they go, someone says ‘You’re hot…or…you got great tits’ or whatever. They spend their whole life being complimented. They never have to work on anything below the surface, because they already have everyone’s attention. Fat – Funny. Short – tough, tall – gentle, ugly – intelligent… Hot?…Just fuckin hot! That’s it. No one says that that hot bitch is funny, no one says that hot bitch is gentle… no one gives a fuck what she is cause she’s fuckin hot. That’ll do. Hang up the phone! Call off the fucking search party…we’ve found her! Here she is. All hot and shit. All… perfect! And that’s before we even meet her. But Alan… Don’t make this hard Alan… the thing about beautiful women is that there are literally millions of them. They are a dime a dozen… So don’t look at beautiful women as a life partner, look at them for what they are… HOT! Just root em Alan. Have sex with as many of them as you possibly can. Then, when you’re ready to settle down… find the ugly chick… find the fat chick… cause they’ll be able to cook and clean and make you laugh… and they’ll be just stoked to be with you cause they’re not hot. They’ll be everything you want them to be, cause they aren’t lazy and have had years of development to become the extraordinary chicks they are. They’ll be your best mate, they’ll drink beer with you, they’ll watch the footy with you, hell... they'll get you a fucking tinny while you watch it - they’ll treat you like a king because they are desperate to be liked. Hot women… beautiful women will always be happier to bask in the adoration of millions of adoring fans than to be told that you think they are hot. They don’t care what you think anymore, they already know you think they are hot cause you tell em every other minute, you complain you’re not getting enough sex. You're always in their ear... Sex this fuckin sex that... not enough this ... not enough that! Just a hand job then... whatever! It's a power tool they use. They are dangerous Alan. Once the attention has been limited to just one man they will think they have lost everything. They won’t know who they are anymore, cause their whole life has been centred around an abundance of attention. They don't know who they are til someone tells them. They don't have a mind of their own Alan. Their mind is made up of the last compliment, last piece of flattery. That's what their mind consists of. Nothing else. They live and breathe flattery. It tells them what to be, it tells them how to feel about themselves. If it comes from the one chump all day every fuckin day - it becomes nothing Alan. It becoomes silence. It becomes this annoying little noice that stops them from hearing other flattery, from other men. If you say it so much that it rolls in one ear and out the other Alan... you will be a silent little invisible man. They will lose their wings and fly away.
Alan- Like Pam.
Bevan- Yeah. Like Pam.
Alan- She told me I was her knight in shining armour.
Bevan- And you were Alan. You were. They don’t lie. They’re not liars Alan. They mean it when they say it. They just mean it with everyone they say it to. You can only be saved once by a knight in shining armour, after that he just kicks back eatin meat off the fuckin bone - and forgets to polish up his metal – then some other bloke will come along whose all buffed up with sun-in spray in his fucked blonde hair who's ready to roll on in on a horse and carry her to safety. Same thing’ll happen to him. He'll become invisible too. They need romance and flattery Alan. Beautiful people die without it. That's what they fucking live for. That's what they are. An image - A dream - a fantasy run on others belief in it. If there are no believers - there is no beauty and these beautiful people cease to exist. It's quantum Physics or some shit. Beauty is not real Alan unless it is seen and admired. If it is not admired then it is dead. It doesn't exist. No believers - No beauty. No eyes on it - no believers. No believers - No beauty. It's that intangible and fickle. It's that hard for them. Imagine living for everyone else Alan. for others thoughts. If a beautiful person falls in a forest Alan, are they beautiful? No. Coz no one is there to think they are. Beauty doesn't exist until it is manifested into conscious thought. It doesn't exist on its own. You have to register it or it doesn't exist. Beauty doesn't just get around on its own. It doesn't stand on its own two feet because it doesn't have fucking feet. WE keep it up. The believers. It's a feeling or a thought or... yeah. It's like that thing Alan.
Alan- What thing?
Bevan- that thing. That plane thing.
Alan - Plane thing?
Bevan - If everyone is on a plane and all of a sudden, at the exact same time, everyone thought that it was impossible for this plane to be in the air - the collective energy, collective belief would make it so. It would crash. Our minds keep things up Alan. Our perception keeps things as they are. Keeps them alive. Makes them so. Collectively its a powerful thing. COllectively we can believe its either flyin or not. And if no one believes its flyin Alan - then it don't fuckin fly. Same with beauty.
Alan - Wow.
bevan- Its a lot of pressure to know you only exist through the minds of others. It would make you like Pam. Let her go Alan. You’ll only make it hard on yourself if you don’t. Don’t make this hard Alan.
Alan- Yeah. You’re right. You are so right.
Bevan- I know I am.
Alan- You are absolutely right!
Bevan- But of course.
Alan- Fuck this. Next discussion we have… I’m just going to agree with her. Let her go if she wants to. I’m going to be ready for all her shit.
Bevan- That’s the spirit Tiger.
Alan- so who you seeing at the moment? Anyone?
Bevan- Oh, this fuckin fat bitch keeps hassling me from frozen produce. Can’t she see she’s fat?
(BLACK)
Bevan- Well… You DO do it man. Know what I’m sayin’? I always told you you were too nice to that bitch. Yeah… Yeah… She’s all that. She’s all hot and shit. Tight arse, great tits, whole package. You know… nice tight little stomach, smart, great eyes… AND teeth. Great teeth, are those things real? Those teeth. Shit. Great teeth. Or maybe it’s her lips. Maybe it’s the framing’ of the teeth. The frame around em that makes you wanna …
(Alan is silent and looking at Bevan. Bevan stops).
Bevan- bottom line is Alan. She’s root material. She’s quick fuck in the dunnies material. She’s pop the bonnet material. You know what I mean? She aint no lacy under curtain. Though I bet the under curtains pretty lacy eh? Eh? No. Right...I mean, she aint no fucking hand woven silk is she? She aint that sort of material? She’s more like a good satin bed sheet. Those fuckers look great, but when it’s hot they fuckin stick to ya’. Stick to ya’ in the night you know. Roll over, wake up, still there stuck to your back like an annoying monkey. Sure, she’s all that. But really she’s just an annoying stick to your back satin circus monkey with great tits.
Alan- A circus monkey?
Bevan- Yeah. You know those fuckin’ monkeys. They dance around in human clothes and hop on one leg and shit. You know. Satin circus monkey.
Alan- I don’t see the resemblance.
Bevan – Alan. Satin fuckin’ circus fuckin’ monkey. All show, all fuckin’ crowd pleasing to get the peanut, all fuckin aren’t I great I’m a monkey wearin satin and hoppin’ on one leg, but the end of the day they’re not all that are they?
Alan- No?
Bevan- No they’re just a circus monkey in fucked clothes with one stupid trick. It’s funny and all cute and shit the first time, but after a while you just wanna break their little fuckin heads. You just wanna snap their stupid skinny hopping around fuckin legs off and make em stop.
Alan – So you’re sayin she was good for the beginning and now she’s annoying.
Bevan- Zactly! Fuckin annoying and the hoppin on one-foot thing just aint that appealing anymore. She needs to get a new trick Alan. She’s had the same one her whole life. Like a fuckin monkey. She lures all these guys in with her circus sideshow shit, then she complains that she’s overworked and underpaid. A monkey should know its place. After all it’s just a monkey and you are its master. She did the same thing to me.
Alan- You went out with her?
Bevan- Sure. Who hasn’t? She’s no saint Alan, despite what she tries to appear to you. She’ll say she’s all up for long relationships and marriage, for DVD nights at your place, for quiet nights in front of the box, for makin sweet potato and fuckin’ kumera soups with oregano and shit, but the end of the day she just can’t go out cause she’s fucked everyone in the club, pissed them off and no-one will buy her drinks anymore. She’s a fuckin satin circus freak show bitch man and I warned you at the start. Didn’t I? Didn’t I?
Alan- You said she’d be good for me. You set us up.
Bevan- Just to get the bitch off MY back. Geez, so she’d stop hoppin around from foot to foot and pissin me off all the time. Besides you hadn’t been laid in seventy-three months.
Alan- But who’s counting.
Bevan- Everyone. Everyone was counting Alan. Most work places have footy tipping, we had Alan tipping. We’d all choose a number and, and whoever’s number was closest to the amount of months you hadn’t been laid for - took home the bacon.
Alan- You’re joking?
Bevan- DO I JOKE ALAN? DO I JOKE?
Alan- No. Mostly not I spose. So who won?
Bevan- I did. That’s why I hooked you up with the bitch. Two more months and I had overestimated you. I had to get you laid before Greg Ellis from accounts got the prize.
Alan- so what did you win at my expense?
Bevan- The game.
Alan- I know you won the game. But what did you win?
Bevan- Oh… Nothin. It wasn’t about the prize, it was about passin the time in this shithole and havin a good old laugh. It was just for kicks.
Alan- For kicks?
Bevan- Look, bottom line is Tiger… you gotta move on. Move up. Shake a leg, make some moves, kick some goals in between some other sticks. Don’t get all depressed and shit about it. You had a holiday, you got laid and it’s out of your system. Nice work. Move on. Just don’t let it go another seventy odd months before you throw another leg over.
Alan- I’m still in love with her.
(Bevan puts his hand on Alan’s shoulder)
Bevan- Course you are. Course you are. She’s great. She’s hot. She’s sweet and means well. She isn’t a liar… No Alan, she doesn't lie... she just doesn’t know how to go about things the right way. She wants the very same things that petrify her.
Alan- You just said she was a circus monkey.
Bevan- Alan. I said she hopped around like a satin circus monkey. I didn’t say she was one. I just was explaining her personality traits in a descriptive form so you would understand. Adjectives Alan. Describing words. Comprende?
Alan- You know what Bevan. I am trying to understand. I am trying to understand a lot of things right now in my life. I’m just not quite hitting them at full brain capacity.
Bevan- Pam is a doll right? Yeah. Agree with me… she’s a doll.
Alan- I…
Bevan- Just agree with me for a minute for Christs sake Alan. Don’t make this hard Alan. She’s a doll… Right?
Alan- Yeah. A doll.
Bevan- Rite.
(Bevan goes back to packing, Alan waits for an explanation).
Alan- I am failing to see… And maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who’s completely lost the plot… But I am failing… none-the-less to find a point in anything that has transpired today.
Bevan- Pam is adorable. The things she wants are also the things that scare her. She wants them, she means it at the time she says them, then when she gets them… she? SHE?
Alan- Doesn’t want them.
Bevan- No. She wants them but she finds it impossible to have them. There is the conundrum. She wants what she can’t have and has what she can’t want… Grass is greener… Or… She’s complex. Yeah, that's it. She’s beautiful and complex.
Alan- She is.
Bevan- OK. Stop there. Put down the hair dye.
(Alan stops mid packing).
Bevan- Go on. Put it down. Right.
(Alan puts it down and stands up)
Bevan- Imagine going through your entire life being beautiful. Imagine that. You don’t have to form any sort of personality. You don’t need any sort of sense of humour. Those people… they don’t develop because they don’t need them to get by. The only reason people are funny or intelligent, or have a great personality is because they are fuckin’ ugly. Ugly people are less welcome in this day and age. They are treated with less respect, they have the harder road. That’s why they make up for it with another of life’s little known miracles… the personality. Beautiful woman are underdeveloped. Everywhere they go they get what they want. Everywhere they go, someone says ‘You’re hot…or…you got great tits’ or whatever. They spend their whole life being complimented. They never have to work on anything below the surface, because they already have everyone’s attention. Fat – Funny. Short – tough, tall – gentle, ugly – intelligent… Hot?…Just fuckin hot! That’s it. No one says that that hot bitch is funny, no one says that hot bitch is gentle… no one gives a fuck what she is cause she’s fuckin hot. That’ll do. Hang up the phone! Call off the fucking search party…we’ve found her! Here she is. All hot and shit. All… perfect! And that’s before we even meet her. But Alan… Don’t make this hard Alan… the thing about beautiful women is that there are literally millions of them. They are a dime a dozen… So don’t look at beautiful women as a life partner, look at them for what they are… HOT! Just root em Alan. Have sex with as many of them as you possibly can. Then, when you’re ready to settle down… find the ugly chick… find the fat chick… cause they’ll be able to cook and clean and make you laugh… and they’ll be just stoked to be with you cause they’re not hot. They’ll be everything you want them to be, cause they aren’t lazy and have had years of development to become the extraordinary chicks they are. They’ll be your best mate, they’ll drink beer with you, they’ll watch the footy with you, hell... they'll get you a fucking tinny while you watch it - they’ll treat you like a king because they are desperate to be liked. Hot women… beautiful women will always be happier to bask in the adoration of millions of adoring fans than to be told that you think they are hot. They don’t care what you think anymore, they already know you think they are hot cause you tell em every other minute, you complain you’re not getting enough sex. You're always in their ear... Sex this fuckin sex that... not enough this ... not enough that! Just a hand job then... whatever! It's a power tool they use. They are dangerous Alan. Once the attention has been limited to just one man they will think they have lost everything. They won’t know who they are anymore, cause their whole life has been centred around an abundance of attention. They don't know who they are til someone tells them. They don't have a mind of their own Alan. Their mind is made up of the last compliment, last piece of flattery. That's what their mind consists of. Nothing else. They live and breathe flattery. It tells them what to be, it tells them how to feel about themselves. If it comes from the one chump all day every fuckin day - it becomes nothing Alan. It becoomes silence. It becomes this annoying little noice that stops them from hearing other flattery, from other men. If you say it so much that it rolls in one ear and out the other Alan... you will be a silent little invisible man. They will lose their wings and fly away.
Alan- Like Pam.
Bevan- Yeah. Like Pam.
Alan- She told me I was her knight in shining armour.
Bevan- And you were Alan. You were. They don’t lie. They’re not liars Alan. They mean it when they say it. They just mean it with everyone they say it to. You can only be saved once by a knight in shining armour, after that he just kicks back eatin meat off the fuckin bone - and forgets to polish up his metal – then some other bloke will come along whose all buffed up with sun-in spray in his fucked blonde hair who's ready to roll on in on a horse and carry her to safety. Same thing’ll happen to him. He'll become invisible too. They need romance and flattery Alan. Beautiful people die without it. That's what they fucking live for. That's what they are. An image - A dream - a fantasy run on others belief in it. If there are no believers - there is no beauty and these beautiful people cease to exist. It's quantum Physics or some shit. Beauty is not real Alan unless it is seen and admired. If it is not admired then it is dead. It doesn't exist. No believers - No beauty. No eyes on it - no believers. No believers - No beauty. It's that intangible and fickle. It's that hard for them. Imagine living for everyone else Alan. for others thoughts. If a beautiful person falls in a forest Alan, are they beautiful? No. Coz no one is there to think they are. Beauty doesn't exist until it is manifested into conscious thought. It doesn't exist on its own. You have to register it or it doesn't exist. Beauty doesn't just get around on its own. It doesn't stand on its own two feet because it doesn't have fucking feet. WE keep it up. The believers. It's a feeling or a thought or... yeah. It's like that thing Alan.
Alan- What thing?
Bevan- that thing. That plane thing.
Alan - Plane thing?
Bevan - If everyone is on a plane and all of a sudden, at the exact same time, everyone thought that it was impossible for this plane to be in the air - the collective energy, collective belief would make it so. It would crash. Our minds keep things up Alan. Our perception keeps things as they are. Keeps them alive. Makes them so. Collectively its a powerful thing. COllectively we can believe its either flyin or not. And if no one believes its flyin Alan - then it don't fuckin fly. Same with beauty.
Alan - Wow.
bevan- Its a lot of pressure to know you only exist through the minds of others. It would make you like Pam. Let her go Alan. You’ll only make it hard on yourself if you don’t. Don’t make this hard Alan.
Alan- Yeah. You’re right. You are so right.
Bevan- I know I am.
Alan- You are absolutely right!
Bevan- But of course.
Alan- Fuck this. Next discussion we have… I’m just going to agree with her. Let her go if she wants to. I’m going to be ready for all her shit.
Bevan- That’s the spirit Tiger.
Alan- so who you seeing at the moment? Anyone?
Bevan- Oh, this fuckin fat bitch keeps hassling me from frozen produce. Can’t she see she’s fat?
(BLACK)
posted by Roguemaze Central at 9:49 PM
4 Comments:
is that BEVAN ADDINSAL?!?
ex-young talent time member and teenage heartthrob, and star of the greatest musical of all time?!?
oops, link didn't work, try this one.
Oh wow, I think Pam is the ice skater after all.
You are quite brilliant and funny.
I think Alan's friends talk too much. Perhaps you might consider an editor, if not just to get the "I love women" "I hate women" "especially beautiful women" shit in order cause this reader's starting to get a little confused.
Are you offering your editing servces darcy?
Sorry for the confusion. I will run it by you first before I post in future.
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