Welcome to gangletown’s “Monday Edition,” where each week you’ll receive original essays, scripts, pieces of fiction, poetry, or cultural commentary written by David Kimple. If that is good for your vybe and you’d like access to everything gangletown has to offer, check out subscription options here.
FAQ: What is the “Cut Bucket”?
As a project develops, it’s not uncommon for entire themes, plots, chapters, or scenes to hit the cutting-room floor. It’s all a part of a work’s circle of life, but, still, it can be sad. Those bits that need to be disposed of don’t always lack quality or value; they’re just not the right fit for the story at hand.
During the edit, I like to create a “cut bucket” to house these cuts, and here in Gangletown, we give those bits a purpose from time to time by allowing them to exist on their own.
Today, I’ve included a cut monologue from a play I’ve been chipping away at for a while, but it is far from done. One day, I hope to finish it. I won’t try to explain how or where this excerpt was meant to fit in, but I hope you enjoy this peek behind the curtain.
A monologue originally written for “at the disco” (working title).
A hospital chapel. 1997.
YOUNG DAVID enters. He wears clothes that are too large because he wants to be cool. He has bleached his hair with sun-in and wears glasses far too large for his face. He is about to start his awkward stage. He has yet to shed his innocence.
He stares at the walls, the crucifix, the pews. He opens a bible and closes it.
YOUNG DAVID:
…I don't know how to pray.
Dear God, Hi, my name is David. I'm 10 years old. I have two cats, and I used to have a turtle, but it died in the fire. I also had a cat before the fire, and she was just a kitten, really, and her name was Jasmine, like from Alladin. She didn't die in the fire, though, because my Mom told me that she gave her to a fireman because we couldn't take care of her. I'm sure we could have kept her at Dad's house…
My cats now are cool too. The orange one is called Tiger. Matt named him and he obviously has no imagination. The other one is called Pepsi. I named him, so he is mine.
I'm here because my Grandma is sick. She had a brain aneurysm in December. We spend a lot of time here, and I never noticed this room. There are churches in the hospital…What if someone doesn't want to talk to Jesus at the hospital? Is there a mosque available for my best friend Raseem if he comes with me to visit next time? I guess they have a prayer room in their house where you can't wear shoes, so he could pray after if he wanted. Raseem is not really my best friend best friend, but he is the only one who came to my birthday party last weekend. We had it on Saturday because my real birthday is today and it's a school day. But then also Saturday was another hurricane, so no one came to the party except Raseem. He gave me an Animorphs book.
I also just got a new Discman from my Dad, and I've been listening to Spice Girls on repeat. I took the CD from my Mom's car, and I know almost all of the words, but some I don’t. Raseem's Mom wouldn't even let us listen to the Spice Girls at all when we were at his birthday party, but I sat in the closet with my old Discman and put the cd on by myself for just a little while. Sean was at that party, and he is my quiet nemesis because we've both been playing basketball for basically our whole lives. He's really good at basketball but nothing else. I'm just okay at basketball, but I can also surf, skateboard, draw, and read faster than anyone I know - including adults.
My Mom probably likes that I read, I think.
She seems tired. She's not around very much because her Mom is my Grandma, and right now, my Grandma lives here at the hospital.
I can't imagine what it would be like if my Mom were sick.
When Grandma got sick, no one knew what to do except my Mom. She became like a supermom for the whole family. Probably because she's the oldest.
I'm the youngest, and I take care of my older brother sometimes. But I'm not allowed to tell him that because he's older. But it’s true.
The point is- I don't need a babysitter and that is good because we have to be at home alone sometimes. I guess you already know that since you're God or whatever.
An “omniscient narrator” but not just for a book, for the whole world.
Uh.
Dear God, I miss my Mom being at home, so please help Grandma get better or die so we can don't have to come to the hospital anymore.
Also, today is my birthday, and I would like new wheels for my skateboard.
Amen?