FADE IN:
One guy is standing outside a bar: PRINCESS FANTASTIC. He is wearing jeans, a vest and no shirt. He looks like he could be in some deleted scene of The Warriors. He’s supposed to be checking ID’s, but it’s a slow night. He stands next to the open front door of the bar, through which we can see THE MAN gradually walking forward. THE MAN walks outside and stands against the wall, next to PRINCESS FANTASTIC. THE MAN is wearing a white buttoned down shirt, tucked into black slacks. He kind of looks like he could either be going to his first communion, or he has some white collar job.
PF: Smoking huh?
TM: No, I don’t smoke actually. A friend of mine just texted me. She wants me to meet her out here.
PF: When is she coming?
TM: She didn’t say. I probably should’ve asked I guess.
PF: And you’re just gonna stand out here in the cold with me for however long it takes?
TM: Hey I’m just that kind of guy.
PF: I see. It’s a ‘with great buttons comes great responsibility’ kind of thing.
TM: What’s wrong with my buttons?
PF: Nothing. I’m saying they’re great. It’s like your shirt is giving off its own nice guy suit of armor flavor. No lack of cigarettes is too great. No curbside too boring.
TM: Yeah. I kind of need a suit of armor because my nipples are Spiderman. I try not to tell everybody but you brought it up.
PF: (Smiling) You know, by that standard you’re using, you’d be shocked the number of heros I meet standing out here. It’s a real justice league parade on this corner. Especially when the frost comes in.
TM: I don’t know if I’d call myself a hero exactly.
PF: Hey, you put your pants on one leg at a time like everyone else.
TM: I actually put my pants on three legs at a time, you know, because I’ve got a huge cock.
PF: (pausing to smirk) Okay, but then you’d still have to like hop into your pants. And with some veiny jump rope caught between your legs already I don’t see how that’s gonna work.
TM: No, I drop into them.
PF: You drop in?
TM: Yeah.
PF: Like…from a swing?
TM: Well it’s more-
PF: So you and this monster wang are just in the naked swing. Are you sleeping?
TM: I’d call it hibernating.
PF: Right. Are you sure you’re not a vampire? Like maybe you’re sleeping upside down and you fall into them.
TM: I do own a lot of capes.
PF: I’d think you have to suck blood just to keep your boner with a dong like that. I mean otherwise you’d pass out right?
TM: I-
PF: Wait, did you say you actually own capes; plural? Like you are the legal owner of more than one cape?
TM: I mean we didn’t get married or anything but yeah, I’ve got a few.
PF: How many is a few?
TM: Seven.
PF: You do not own seven fucking capes.
TM: I absolutely own seven capes.
PF: What was…I mean, what was left over after the first cape purchase that you felt like you needed an additional six capes to say to the world?
TM: They have pictures on them.
PF: (laughing) You shut your mouth. They do not.
TM: Yeah.
PF: Like, a lot of pictures? Is it like your cape has a bunch of merit badges or something?
TM: No. Come on. It’s one picture per cape.
PF: Of course. What was I thinking. Please tell me one of them is a picture of your cat.
TM: Probably the best known one is the cheeseburger cape. That’s the one people like the most anyway.
PF: Sure. For meal times I’m guessing.
TM: No, it’s just like when it’s time for me to do something big. I wore it to a mud wrestling match one time.
PF: I cannot fucking handle you dude. The words: “I wore my cheeseburger cape to my mud wrestling match.” are the best thing that ever happened to me.
TM: Pshh. That’s not even my best cape.
PF: Okay, hang on. (PF pulls up a chair)
I need to be sitting for this. (PF sits on the edge of the chair and points at TM with both hands. One point per word.) WHAT! IS! YOUR! BEST! CAPE!
TM: The Battleship.
PF: Like it has a picture of a battleship on it?
TM: Yeah.
PF: So…(PF stands up and brings his hands to his head like he needs psychic powers to understand this)…It’s like this is the seven deadly sins or something, except, it’s the seven pimpin cape emotions, as decided by your patch collection.
TM: I mean I never put it in exactly those words before, but I guess that is kind of it.
PF: Wow. I think this is the best day of my life. You sunk my battleship is I think what happened.
TM: Exactly! That’s what that one is for.
PF: (laughing) You know, I was so skeptical when this conversation started. Now I think I’m opening a cape store.
TM: You can call it “The Thrilling Caper”.
PF: (laughing and pointing his index finger at TM) I officially forbid you from being any more awesome than this. I WILL POOP. Mark my words.
TM: I assumed you did already.
PF: So walk me through the capes here. (Listing on his fingers) We’ve got Cheeseburger. Battleship….Give me the whole collection.
TM: (letting his fingers pop up like he’s done this a thousand times) It goes Cheeseburger, Battleship, Rattlesnake, Unicorn, Report card, UFO abducting a guy in a cape, and Mastodon.
PF: I have so many questions.
TM: I feel like it’s pretty self explanatory.
PF: I’m sure you do, but I’m still learning. I need you to show me the light. Report Card. Give me Report Card first.
TM: I’m not even sure how to explain it. Report Card is like: You should’ve been studying. Now it’s judgment day.
PF: Okay. So it’s like the: “If you don’t know, you better ask somebody” of capes.
TM: Yeah. I wore it to a breakdance fight.
PF: GODDAMN IT! You can’t break dance fight AND mud wrestle AND have different capes for each thing. It’s too fucking excellent. You could make a monster truck get its period by being the man that fucking hard.
TM: Haha. Yeah. Report Card gets a lot of mileage though. You can’t pigeonhole that guy. I wore him to my dad’s funeral.
PF: I was just about to ask you how that’s possible, but I think I realized what it is.
TM: Should we say it at the same time?
(PF and TM together): His card was pulled.
PF: See now I’m not sure if I’m opening a cape store anymore.
TM: What? You can’t ditch on the store man.
PF: No, I’m absolutely still opening it. I just feel like it’s a cape temple now or something. Like you are the mountain and I am the mole hill on this. I’m out here fucking around with vests like it’s the seventies or something, thinking I’m hot shit.
TM: Yeah. You look like you’re about to get into some West Side Story rumble with the forces of employment.
PF: I’m glad that you’re able to sense the jazz-tap background under my vest ensemble. A lot of people miss that. Good eye.
TM: Are you really a dancer?
PF: What, you think you’re the only guy who can dance fight people?
(PF crouches down and starts snapping while he walks forward.)
PF: Kind of a different school here…
(PF bursts out of the crouch to some twinkle toes)
TM: Alright wait, you do yours…
(TM starts walking on his hands. He folds his legs indian style while upside down.)
PF: And when I say CRAZY you have to say COOL.
TM: Haha. Alright.
(Some people; BOYFRIEND and GIRLFRIEND walk up and need their IDs checked. PF jogs back over to the front door.)
BF: (sarcastically) Hey. Busy night?
PF: That all depends on how you look at it man. Are there a lot of people here? No. But I think I just started a new religion, so… My to-do list is filling up pretty quickly.
GF: A religion of what?
PF: That’s a great question. I feel like if you know the answer to it already you never start the religion though. Right?
GF: I guess so. I’m Mormon so…
BF: Come on… (BF waves GF inside and they both walk in. PF yells after them.)
PF: Ooooh. Cliffhanger! Don’t worry. I’m sure we have a cape for that!
(PF turns back to TM, who has put his hands in his pockets)
PF: We have a cape for that don’t we?
TM: For what?
PF: For breakdance fighting Mormons.
TM: Like that’s what they are? Or are we just like popping out of a bush and breakdance attacking them?
PF: You mean are they just a troop of Mormons who all happen to be in the same break dance fighting organization when we serve them? Or are we just strapping on our pads and storming the tabernacle? I’m really glad you asked me that. Are they different capes? That’s the real question.
TM: I feel like they’re definitely different capes. You don’t wear your battle capes to an ambush.
PF: (laughing) How are there so many rules? And why do I love all of them. I need a big book of cape rules.
TM: We could sell it at the cape store.
PF: Haha. It’ll be like our bible. We can’t show up to the Mormon break dance fight with no scripture of our own. You know those guys are coming in heavy.
TM: I’d probably bring the Mastadon to a straight dance off, and the Unicorn to the ambush.
PF: Okay. So don’t tell me. Let me see if I can guess this. Is it like, the Mastodon is for stampeding stuff? Like that’s why it’s a battle cape. We’re about to run you over.
TM: Kind of. It’s for stuff that’s about to go extinct.
PF: How do you have a whole cape for that? What are you global warming?
TM: I’m just saying, like, there’s sinking your battleship and then there’s clearing the board. I’m pretty sure I can handle SLC’s baddest breakers. Probably they should have stayed home.
PF: So Mastodon is the: “You shouldn’t have even tried” cape.
TM: Big time.
PF: It sounds like they’re all battle capes to me. Are they not all for battle?
TM: No man, don’t put me in a box like that. You’re looking at it the wrong way. It’s just that whatever you’re doing, you know what it is and you’re doing it right. You don’t have to go to war to put your flag in the ground.
PF: SEE WHAT I MEAN! Cape bible. Page one. Okay. Can I tell you what I really need to know? I’ve been hesitating to ask because I don’t know all the cape rules yet.
TM: Shoot.
PF: Do you do this thing? (PF grabs an imaginary cape and puts his elbow out in front of him. He begins creeping forward.)
TM: HAHA! I know this is hard to accept but just because I own a cape doesn’t mean I suck people’s blood.
PF: Okay, follow up question, just really fast.
TM: Yeah?
PF: Am I the first person this week you’ve had to say that to?
TM: Well-
PF: (Makes a loud buzzer noise) Sorry my friend, that is probably the most yes or no question I’ve ever asked in my life.
TM: Look, that’s an awesome cape move. You can’t just give it to vampires. What if I want to reveal a tray of horderves? Capes are the best move in town there.
PF: Okay. And then the other vampire turns to stone, or how does it work?
TM: Come on man. Look, that’s not even the best cape move. It’s all about this one right here.
(TM takes his imaginary cape and brushes it brusquely behind him before walking away quickly)
PF: Yeah, I can see that. It’s kind of like swinging your cornrows at somebody, but for capes. Get that flowing in the wind behind you. Let me try that.
(PF makes a blustery, melodramatic stomp off after swishing an imaginary cape behind him)
PF: It feels like I should have a cane. Do you not have a sweet cane?
TM: See, I’m glad you brought that up. As soon as you start fucking around with capes the line between pimp and vampire gets very blurry.
PF: Now I see why you brought the heat with your patch collection. Gotta make sure everyone knows what time it is. Everyone who sees the same thing in the rorschach test as you anyway. Will you do “Guy in a cape getting abducted by UFO” for me? I feel like I could guess for a million years and not get that one.
TM: Okay, so that one is like first, if I ever did get abducted by aliens, just in a one in a million chance, I feel like that’s the only way I’m gonna have any kind of upper hand in that situation.
PF: Wait. WHAT? (laughing hysterically)
TM: (Insisting) Think about it dude. If you laid a trap for a rabbit and then when you went to go check on the trap, there was a picture of you checking the trap in there, that would be kind of creepy right?
PF: I… I am so rarely speechless. Yes. You got me. The answer to that question is yes. Yes it would be creepy.
TM: Right. I just feel like the pay off is so huge that it’s worth just putting it out there. I mean it doesn’t cost me anything, and if it pays off, it’ll be like one of the coolest things a person ever did.
PF: GODDAMN IT DUDE! You keep doing this thing where I think I know how much fun I’m having and then you make me even happier. This cape store is going to fucking rule. Yes to canes. Yes to those gloves with long fingers and no knuckles on them. Yes to monocles.
TM: Haha, you’ve got every kind of caped crusader in there.
PF: Duh dude. I didn’t even realize how fucked up my whole friend roster was until just now. How did I have ZERO capes on my squad?
TM: We should have bolo ties too. Like with the cattle skulls and the strings.
PF: Uuuuh….Yes to bolo ties. Yes to extra long cigarette holders and top hats and hair grease and a funeral for how lame everything was before this conversation happened.
TM: It needs a name.
PF: What does?
TM: Our cape religion.
PF: Oooooo. It does need a name. Tough call, tall order. We need to go big.
TM: What about: The Great Capery
PF: Okay. Like we’re members of The Great Capery. Almost. It needs a little more splash.
TM: I hear you. It should probably be harder to say. The Great Capery could be a place that sells salmon or something. We need people to get that weirded out feeling you only get when some total whacko wants to give you a pamphlet.
PF: So what are you thinking?
TM: The Papal Capataparation. The Cappappa…
PF: I hear what you’re saying. Take training wheels off. We need a name that says: Strap in. You’re in Cape Town now and you need more shots to be here than you do in the African one. Why don’t we get the “Cape” out of there, and just be like, The League of Guys Who Fucking Rule? And then when you show up, it’s like oh shit, they’re all wearing capes. I guess it’s more than a name.
TM: Hahaha.
(Just then a car pulls up and parks on the sidewalk in front of the bar. TM’s friend BECKY gets out. She is carrying his rattlesnake cape. She is wearing a scrunchie and a back pack).
TM: What’s all this?
(TM accepts the cape from B and then turns to introduce her)
TM: Hey this is my friend I was waiting for, Becky.
PF: Hey. Nice to meet you.
(B barely shakes hands, she is all business. She begins unloading elbow and knee pads from her back pack.)
TM: What’s going on?
B: That chick I told you about is here. She’s about to get served.
TM: The Mormon one?
PF: No. Oh for the love of christmas, this is too good. It can’t be happening.
(B stands at the entrance of the bar with her breakin pads, strapped on, beckoning to her mormon breakdancing opponent inside)
TM: So that’s why you brought the rattler.
PF: Don’t tell me.
TM: Because it’s time for me to pop.
(TM begins popping and locking. PF is so happy. He looks like he will poop as promised. GF comes outside and stands in the doorway for a minute, while TM is bringing that pop and lock realness. B stands to meet her and things feel a little old west saloon for a second.)
GF: (Annoyed) Okay…are we really gonna do this right now?
B: You better go stick your head in that magic hat bitch. Cause you aint got a prayer out here!
PF: U! S! A!…U! S! A!…I am actually part of a Mormon breakdance fight between cape owners. This is the greatest country in the world. Can there be a coin toss? I would like to flip a coin about this somehow.
(B takes out one of those wireless boombox things, and GF starts breaking. TM is still going strong on the pop and lock front.)
PF: I’ve never felt more like I might take off flying from the ground before. I want this to have more rollerblades but that’s my only complaint.
END
Princess Fantastic 