KÜNTSCHNEIFFER

by
M ax Henry

max@themaxhenry.com
CHARACTER NAME DES CRIPTION AGE

Jo Screenwriter Preppy, perfect college grad. 20's

Jamie Screenwriter Art-scene hipster college grad. 20's
Rosa Housekeeper with a secret. 50's
Prostitute Haggard. Does not have heart of gold. 30's
Norman Sandworm. 150's
Postman Typical dog-avoiding messenger. 40's
M iles Hollywood sleazebag. 50's
 S CENE ONE OF ONE.

Lights up on the common area of an apartment on the

Lower East Side in New York City. A small, sterile kitchen
with a center island is positioned upstage left, and a
furnished living area is downstage. An easel and paint set
is downstage right. The front door is on the upstage wall.
Doors to two bedrooms are stage right. One door reads
“JO.” The other reads “JAMIE.” The walls are lined
with bookshelves and paintings. Each painting is a
distinct portrait of CNN anchor Wolf Blitzer: as a sea
captain, a fascist dictator, an actual wolf in a suit standing
in a newsroom, etc.

JO, in horn-rimmed glasses and a plush robe, stands

behind the center island, poking at a sleek grey laptop.
Guess what brand it is. Yep.

JAMIE, in dark skinny jeans and a grey hoodie spattered

in spent paint, enters from their bedroom. JAMIE
collapses on the couch, then leans toward the coffee table
to fiddle with a typewriter.

JO
Things aren’t looking good.

JAM IE
What and/or which things?

JO
Our prospects. We have an important deadline coming up. Our manager wants the script
by M onday.

JAM IE
I know that. But it’s M onday now. So either it’s too late, or we have time.

JO
Less than a week, now, in terms of hours.

JAM IE
You can’t rush art, Jo.
 2.

JO
We need to finish our screenplay, Jamie.

JAM IE
I apologize. Inspiration eludes me. I am a complicated and multifaceted artist. I am still
deep in my portraiture phase. You wouldn’t understand. You only write.

JO
And read. Look at those fucking books, man. I have read several of those books, including
the one on the coffee table.

JAMIE plucks a book off of the coffee table.

JAM IE
But you wrote this book.

JO
Then I didn’t read it. M y mistake. Will you kindly re-shelve it for me?

JAM IE
Kindly.

JAMIE approaches a bookshelf. They lob the book at the

shelf. The entire unit collapses. Books and splintered
wood everywhere.

JO
Goddammit! You’ll stain the carpet! You should be ashamed of yourself! Now our maid
must suffer the indignity of swallowing the fruits of your refreshingly ironic, yet
disgraceful and carefree, moreover reckless sense of abandon!

JAM IE
Oh, piss. You’re such a crusty old conservative.

ROSA, fifties, a muscular bald person dressed in white,

stands from behind the counter. ROSA has clearly been
performing oral sex on JO.

JO
Clean that shit up, maid.
 3.

ROSA
I have a name. M e llamo Rosa.

ROSA pulls off a bald cap, revealing long, dark,

dishevelled hair. They pull a feminine maid’s uniform up
from their ankles and put it on.

They take a large bottle of liquid cleaner from the kitchen

and approach the collapsed bookshelf. They douse the
mess in cleaner and toss the bottle aside.

ROSA exits.

JAM IE
Worth every penny.

JO
Every last one. About time we rounded those brassy bastards up and did away with
pennies altogether. They smell like hobo blood and aren’t worth half as much.

JAM IE
I only use credit cards.

JAMIE removes a credit card from their pocket along

with a bountiful sack of cocaine, labeled “COCAINE.”
They dump the cocaine on the table and arrange it in lines
with the card.

JO
Good to see you being productive again, Jamie. How many pages do you have?

JAM IE
Several hundred, but they’re all empty. They’re all... whiiiiite...

JO
That’s quite an artistic statement. You are so fucking productive.

JAM IE
I haven’t written anything. I can’t, Jo.
 4.

JO
M y God, you’re right. Not at a time like this. The M Train isn’t running today. What if
you run out of ink? How will we get more?

JAM IE
I could take the F.

JO
Oh, fuck the F, Jamie.

JAM IE
Obviously.

JO
Your stylish commitment to analog technology has at long last failed you.

JAM IE
I have enough ink.

JO
No, dear friend. You have enough cocaine.

JAM IE
Quite right. Unfortunately, my father is subjecting me to a drug test.

JAMIE inhales a line of cocaine.

JO
So what?

JAM IE
He’s gonna kick me out if it’s positive. For drugs.

JO
He can’t kick you out of your own apartment, silly.

JAM IE
He can stop giving me enough money to pay rent.

JO
Wait. Are you asking me for money?
 5.

JAM IE
No. I’m asking you if you think if I should cheat.

JO
On Elizabeth? God, no. She’s a sweet girl.

JAM IE
Who’s Elizabeth?

JO
Remember the girl I tried to fix you up with at the party? The gallery opening? Two
weeks ago?

JAM IE
Your sister?

JO
Yeah, I think so. The redhead, anyway.

JAM IE
I never spoke to her again after that night.

JO
M y mistake. I assumed you two had exchanged numbers of fluids by now. She only
fucks people who are close to me. Then again, you’re not close to me. I mean, spacially,
you’re just a few yards away. But with respect to looks and personality, you’re nowhere
near me, and that’s what matters to her.

JAM IE
As well it should. You are a handsome and talented young person according to most
trending topics and prostitutes.

JO
Is that true? Is that true, prostitute I p icked up last night?

PROSTITUTE, mid-thirties and haggard, stands from

underneath the counter. Her lipstick is smeared.

PROSTITUTE
I have a name.
 6.

JO
And every day of her life, the mother who gave it to you prayed for the chance to turn
back time and ride her bloated belly down a flight of stairs. You are shameful.

PROSTITUTE exits, sobbing.

JO
Worth every penny.

JAMIE buries their face in the mound of cocaine.

JAM IE
This is some good fucking cocaine. M ay I borrow some urine?

JO
I don’t think that would be proper or possible.

JAM IE
Please. I don’t know who else I can ask.

JO
Good point. You haven’t seen anyone else urinate, aside from me.

JAM IE
Beside you.

JO
Astride me. Not in this city, anyway. Not in New York.

JAM IE
Jesus Christ, no. Not in M anhattan.

JO
Yeesh. And you’re supposed to be an adult.

JAM IE
And I still feel as if we might be the only ones getting our hands dirty behind the scenes.

JO
Technically, urine is sterile, so our hands are clean. Aside from the blood.
 7.

JAM IE
Here’s a grown person, descended from apes, forced to control what enters and exits their
body, not by means of pleasure and pain, trial and error, or random encounter, but by the
immoral and moreover improper scale of what is and is not acceptable to the fleshy
goddamn ape immediately preceding them.

JO
Sounds like you’ve got some daddy issues.

JAM IE
You’ve been listening to my dirty magazines again.

JAMIE sorts through a stack of magazines titled

“DADDY” on the coffee table. Ribbons of adhesive tape
weave between the pages, spilling out in tendrils.

JO
Don’t mind the sticky pages, Jamie. I have a fetish for books on tape.

JAM IE
Tape on books.

JO
Now you’re talking.

JAM IE
About what?

JO
Your father’s cocaine habit.

JAM IE
No, no, no. I don’t mind his cocaine habit. He strongly objects to mine, however, and
he’d like me to stop. He’s going to take my pee, Jo. He’s going to take my pee, and it’s
not fair. He’ll find a way. He always has, ever since I was a baby. Unless...

JO
We must stage an intervention. Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but his paternal
piss lust has finally gone too far!
 8.

JAM IE
I won’t forgive you for speaking out of turn, because it was your rightful turn to speak.
An intervention would be tricky, though. And a lot of work.

JO
We’d have to gather everyone who loves him.

JAM IE
And train those people to love him beforehand. That could take months. Years, even. It’s
too much of a commitment. I need my father to approve of my steady use of cocaine
now.

JO
What do you suggest?

JAM IE
I was thinking I could, like, take the test and stick it into the toilet water, right? And fill it
up with urine from whoever went before me.

JO
That’s a stupid idea.

JAM IE
Why?

JO
What would you do if whoever went before you shat in the toilet water? People don’t
shit out of their dicks, Jamie. Not in New York City.

JAM IE
You may be right.

JO
M oreover, toilet water is cold. Urine is warm. I know this.

JAM IE
I know quite well that you do. And I do, too. But I have that covered. You see, toilet
water is cold. Right?

JO
Last time I spoke about it, yes.
 9.

JAM IE
M aybe not quite freezing, but I’d venture to say a common toilet has the means to
refrigerate produce.

JO
Undoubtedly.

JAM IE
So, due to this obvious discrepancy in temperature, I pose that, previous to my test, I
swallow several ice cubes whole. Within minutes, the temperature of my internal fluids
will have cooled to a temperature comparable to that of the toilet water, and therefore,
each liquid will be indistinguishable from the other according to the instruments of
modern science.

JO
Aside from the drug content.

JAM IE
Yes, which I will have provided for, as I will swap the toilet water for my own urine.

JO
Brilliant.

JAMIE types a few words.

JAM IE
I feel inspired. Perhaps now I will take a nap.

JO
You’ve earned it.

JAM IE
Thank you, but it’s hard for me to take credit for today’s success. Inspiration is a random
process. Something about chemical imbalance, possible autism, kinesthesic synesthesia. It
has a way of finding people whether they ask for it or not.

JO
Especially in New York City.
 10.

JAM IE
Oh, absolutely. Thank God we’re here. I wouldn’t be able to get anything done if I were
back in M ichigan. So lucky to be a New Yorker now.

JO
I can only imagine what I’d be doing back in Hartford.

JAM IE
Hartford. Good one. Bunch of spoiled brats. It is a blessing that you made it out intact.

JO
Yes. We’re New Yorkers, now. We’ve got cockroaches and everything. I saw one last
night. Two, actually. There was a baby one, and I killed it.

JAM IE
I bet you did.

JO
And we’ve had several disagreements about who should do the dishes and the laundry.
And what with my long hours of reading and your long hours of drug abuse--

JAM IE
It’s as if this apartment is nearly too small for our strong, disparate personalities.

JO
Yet somehow we get by. Perhaps our productive and fruitful creative partnership keeps
us going.

JAM IE
Please, Jo. “Creative” is such a trite word.

JO
And what of your usage of the word “trite” in that instance? Is it not, in context, the very
definition of.

JAM IE
Which?

JO
Of “trite.”
 11.

JAM IE
No. Of which instance?

JO
That one. Just now.

JAM IE
I think you may be right. Then again, you’re the bookworm in the room.

JO
Not for long.

NORMAN, a large, worm-like monster, crashes through

the wall, landing on top of the broken book case. He’s like
something out of TREMORS or BEETLEJUICE except he
is wearing a top hat and monocle.

JO
Norman! Goddammit! We told you to knock! On the door! Not the wall!

JAM IE
We’re trying to do some work and cocaine, here!

NORM AN
M y sincerest apologies, gents. I’ll just be on my way, then.

NORMAN slithers back through the wall.

JAM IE
I can’t work in this environment!

JO
Would it be better if we relocated to a more fitting and nurturing locale?

JAM IE
Would what be better?

JAMIE snorts some cocaine and claps the rest in their

hands like gymnast chalk.

JO looks at their watch.