Scene from a play – the punk play

I thought I’d start off a little something different.

This is a scene from a play I wrote called Punk As Fuck. It’s about the punk scene and three different generations coming together on one night.

A little bit about it – I originally wrote it for Just Theater’s New Play Lab over 2014 and the beginning of 2015. It’s this play where everyone’s dissatisfied and possibly depressed, but shows it in different ways. Some people get angry, others feel the need to have “fun” all the time, others play music. You know, just regular stuff people do.

Anyway, I’m excited about this play because it has a future life! It will get a second public reading on January 12th from Custom Made Theatre. Very jazzed about that… And hope people come see it because it’s always nice to have support, and feedback if you feel the need to give it, or even a nice word or two. Oh, it’s free.

So here’s a scene from the script about halfway through the play. Lydia Cooper is in her late twenties/thirties. She’s been positioned as this new punk rock singer goddess. Ray’s about 15. He’s the son of the lady that owns the place – it’s his house actually. He lives there with his mom, who was legendary in the scene back in the day.

Oh, apologies if this is weird formatting to read. I’ll fix it later and add a picutre. I just wanted to put it out there.

And does this scene make it to the final cut of the script for the reading on the 12th of January?? Well… you’ll have to come out and see!

From Punk As Fuck by Barbara Jwanouskos

A private place. LYDIA sits in the shadows, out of sight.

RAY storms in.

He paces.

He kicks a stray can.

He gets worked up.

He recovers.

He flips off the house with both middle fingers.

He paces.




Fuck you, you know that!


I fucking hate it here.

I fucking hate this house.

I hate this tree.

I hate the stupid backyard.

I hate my fucking friends.

I hate this fucking band.

Anyone even care what I think?

No! Never! Why would they?

It’s like, it’s not enough that I’m fucking even like this shit.

Like actually legitimately like this shit

Like following in your fucking footsteps or whatever

Which is so dumb

Like it’d be better off if you’d just let my mom die without ever having me.

And you.

I fucking hate you so much.

I do. I really do.

Cuz it’s like you don’t care.

You don’t get me.

No one does.

And I really hate that I just said that because I’m such a fucking teenage cliché.

Like all I want to do is fucking mean something to someone and I can’t.

I gotta sit on the sidelines watching.

Always watching.

Watching you. Watching them.

Like I could do it, you know?

If you just let me-
If you could just-
I just want…

I don’t know what I want.

But, I fucking hate Combat Rock.

That’s for sure

And I fucking hate Lydia Cooper.



Oh, okay, well, I’m just gonna go then…


RAY jumps, startled.



What the fuck are you doing here?




I don’t know?






No, that’s not true.

I fucking hate people.

There I said it.


RAY scoffs.



Well, you know, not that I really hate hate people. See, I actually really love The Idea of people. You

know, togetherness, relating, all that. But then…

Well, you get disappointed pretty often, don’t you?



I’m not having some come-to-Jesus talk with you if that’s what you’re looking for.



No, hey, I get it.

Like I literally was hiding from my manager over here.






Oh, you know, it’s just…

Okay, so you’re this kid right?

This girl from the Midwest that actually has this really great life.

Like you live in not a fancy house or a fancy neighborhood,

but because of the cost of living in the middle of the country,

it’s relatively nice for what your folks make.

And your folks are all together and they’re happy and perfect,

well, maybe not perfect, but pretty damn fucking cute

even when they get mad at each other.

But you, like fit in and don’t fit in at the same time?

Like they love you with all their heart

and your brother is amazing and your sister is brilliant

and they all are fucking wonderful people,

but you just gotta maybe get away for a while

so you start hanging out with this group of like quirky people

that actually kinda reminds you of your family in a weird way

but they dye their hair black

and maybe one of them gives you a stick and poke tattoo

that comes out really badly

and the other gives you a friendship bracelet

that you still wear to this day because

actually they have the fucking problematic lives you hear about when you think of

runaways, degenerates, outsiders

and it actually surprises you that other people don’t think

your friends are all that cool or fun or see how sweet they are

like other people go out of their way to make fun of them

and treat them like worse than you see people treat their pets

and it’s like what’d they ever do, you know?

And one of them

– the one that gives you the friendship bracelet

That you still wear to this day –

One of them disappears one night

Just poof into thin air

Like a fairytale

And you want to believe in the fairytale

But after a week, a month, a year, five years…

And during that time you just want to vanish.

You get really into Vanishing Theory.

Maybe parse out the thoughts.

Make the plans.

You learn it and understand what it means to


And you kinda do for a second every so often.

Every so often when you need to

Just when you really need to

Like now, for instance,

“now’s a good time to vanish”,

Is what you say.

And it’s cool in one way because you wonder what

People think of you when you’re gone.

But then someone says that they fucking hate Lydia Cooper

And you’re like, “whoa! Really?

In a way I feel honored that someone even cares enough to not care for me.”




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