Thursday 1 March 2012

A meeting in the Agora
Act 1 of 1 – the reduced shelves at Morrison's Supermarket


Member of the electorate: What you doing!
Victim: I'm sorry?
Member of the electorate: You just got in my way!
Victim: Did I? I'm sorry.I didn't realise. [Returns to looking at the shelves]
Member of the electorate: Why d'you do that? You got right in my way.
Victim: I didn't know I did. As I have said, I am sorry.[Returns to looking at the shelves]
Member of the electorate: You did. You went like this. [Performs an elaborate and ugly ballet, his backside sticking out behind him, his belly hanging forward, his face showing intense concentration, like a dog defecating, and slides and twists over many square feet in front of the small cabinet of shelves] That's you. That's what you did.
Victim: Well, I find it hard to believe all that was me; but I have said that I am sorry for getting in your way.
Member of the electorate: But why did you do do it?
Victim: I don't think I did actually. Anyway, I am very sorry to have caused you so much stress.
Member of the electorate: You must be retarded.
Victim: [After a long silence] What if I were retarded?
Member of the electorate: What?
Victim: If I were retarded... Would that be an appropriate way to speak to me?
Member of the electorate: [Slight perhaps confused pause] Oh fuck off
Victim: Don't you have any compassion for people you call retarded? They're often a lot more polite than you are.
Member of the electorate: Fuck off.
Victim: Is “fuck off” all you can say?
Member of the electorate: Fuck off.
Victim: [Leaning towards the other] Perhaps you're worried it is you who is retarded, Sir; and you can't handle it.
Member of the electorate: Don't you come near me! Don't you touch me!

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