Role Playas

Copyright Ken Brady. No reproduction without express permission from the author.
(Originally published in DAILY CABAL, 2008)

FADE IN.

EXT – THAT VAST EXPANSE OF DESERT YOU SEE IN EVERY CAR COMMERCIAL – DAY

It’s hot. Cacti dot the landscape. A lizard skitters by.

TWO FIGURES dressed as warriors walk slowly into frame. They struggle to make
progress in the oppressive heat.

Finally exhausted, they both collapse in a heap near a cactus.

We see OUR HERO, 20s, a buff, Conan-like force of nature. Built like a tank,
consumes small grocery stores for lunch. A football jock with a dangerous
weapon.

He’s beat.

OUR HERO
I need some water.

The other figure is SWORDFIGHTER #1, 20s, A scarlet bikini-clad warrior woman.

Impossibly large breasts that defy the laws of physics. She flexes her nipples with
sheer willpower.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
Hey, it’s not like I asked for your cooperation.
You just started following me.

OUR HERO
I’m not following you. You’re following me. You’ve
got this entire thing backward.

Our Hero stands and struggles to keep upright. Then he pulls his sword and flails
at the cactus. He makes unintelligible noises he thinks are words.

OUR HERO
Blahow, yaaooou, herf, hahahaooogle!

Swordfighter #1 shakes her head.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
(sotto voce)
Damned psycho.
(to Our Hero)
Who do you think you are, anyway?

OUR HERO
Me? I’m the hero. I’m the star. The leading man.
The center of this particular celluloid universe!

SWORDFIGHTER #1
Uh-huh.
OUR HERO
I am! That’s why I’ve got this.

Our Hero shows off the pendant hanging from a chain around his neck containing
dark/light theatre masks.

OUR HERO (con’t.)
What’s wrong with you, anyway? Haven’t you read
the script? Oh wait, no, you don’t GET a script.
You’re just a…a…character actor! Not even that.
You’re just BACKGROUND.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
Oh, that hurts.

Swordfighter #1 stands, breasts catching the hot desert sunlight and focusing Our
Hero’s attention completely.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
But not as much as this will.

She draws her sword and runs Our Hero through.

Our Hero crumples to the ground. He has the decency not to be melodramatic in
death.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
(shakes head)
Method actors.

Swordfighter #1 reaches down, looks at the pendant around Our Hero’s neck. She
fingers it, contemplates.

SWORDFIGHTER #1
Then again…

She rips the chain away from the dead body.

CROSS FADE TO:

INT. OBLIGATORY TAVERN OF DEBAUCHERY THAT’S BIGGER INSIDE THAN OUT – NIGHT

Swordfighter Sarah, now leading lady, is surrounded by a dozen scantily clad
SLAVE MEN.

Her bikini and the pendant around her neck are like beacons in the torchlight,
drawing in the unsavory characters of the night. There are a whole lot of them.

A WAITER approaches the entourage.

WAITER
Anything I can get for you, m’lady? No charge,
of course.

Swordfighter Sarah considers the things around her.

FLASHBACK MONTAGE:
– Scantily-clad men dancing on the rough-hewn tables
– Tankards of ale flowing freely to her from adoring fans
– Scores of young starlet/maidens being executed in the streets
– A mandatory Swordfighter Sarah star on the ground in the town square
– Wagons full of gold and jewels

BACK TO SCENE.

She rubs the pendant around her neck.

SWORDFIGHTER SARAH
What else could I possibly want?

She grabs a handful of slave butt on each side of her and pulls herself to her feet.

SWORDFIGHTER SARAH (con’t.)
I’ll be in my trailer.

As we follow her entourage toward the rear exit, we

END.