THE NEXT LEVEL DOWN: ACT I, SCENE THREE.

Scene Three: An indie café.

DRAKE: You know what?

I just had a revelation.

JACKSON: Yes we did. Or was it a pastrami? I cannot remember.

DRAKE: EVERY body is manipulative.

JACKSON: Consciously or unconsciously?

DRAKE: Both. Though that might be too generous.

Either. But that would still let them get AWAY with it. I mean: if I do it unconsciously, I can’t judge them from on-high, and if THEY do it unconsciously, then it’s not so bad of them.

JACKSON: Manslaughter, not murder.

DRAKE: Right. Exactly. Look at THAT girl, for instance.

JACKSON: Which one?

DRAKE: I did not mean literally.

JACKSON: So NOT literally a girl?

DRAKE: Not literally look at her.

JACKSON: So look at her figuratively?

DRAKE: Every time we’re out in public, in the company of friends, she treats me well.

JACKSON: See? Life is not so bad. You have friends. And a private life…

DRAKE: Except she is not IN my private life.

JACKSON: But I thought you were leading into some thing.

DRAKE: I was. My point was that when I see her on the streets she acts like I’m not even there.

JACKSON: Just so you know: the streets are public.

DRAKE: And yet when she tries to look good for her FRIENDS…

JACKSON: What is a girl that classy doing on the STREETS any way?

DRAKE: She is kind then to me. Open. Even GENUINE, which is the weird, ironic thing.

JACKSON: It’s like she’s not herself when she’s alone.

DRAKE: Yet ALL of it’s an act! The face that she puts on in public…

JACKSON: And the face that she does NOT put on in OTHER public…

DRAKE: I think that she likes me.

JACKSON: How do you figure?

DRAKE: Instincts. Plus she has a boy-friend.

JACKSON: Then she PROBABLY likes you.

DRAKE: But can’t admit to it. So treats me with unwarranted disdain.

JACKSON: How is her beau?

DRAKE: Nice guy. Aquarius I think.

JACKSON: Okay so not the jealous type.

DRAKE: Not that I know of, no.

[Both look at her, for some time.]

JACKSON: What’s her sign?

DRAKE: Leo.

JACKSON: TOTALLY not worth it.

DRAKE: Not my type!

JACKSON: Nice guy though?

DRAKE: Nice face.

JACKSON: Him or her?

DRAKE: Her.

JACKSON: Nice ASS, too.

DRAKE: Sh!

DRAKE: Hey, SOLID music today.

BARISTA GIRL: Oh, thanks.

DRAKE: This is Birdy covering Bon Iver, right?

BARISTA GIRL: Yes it IS.

DRAKE: Is this your music? Did you choose the radio station?

BARISTA GIRL: Oh, no. she chose it. What’s it called?

b: Just Matt Corby radio.

DRAKE: Matt CORBY? How’s that spelled?

b: C-O-R-B-Y.

DRAKE: CORBY.

b: He’s Australian.

DRAKE: Nice.

MALE BARISTA: Hey. You can’t just hang out here if you don’t order some thing.

DRAKE: [Pause. Looks off.] All right.

MALE BARISTA: Yeah.

JACKSON: I ordered some thing!

MALE BARISTA: Do you want to order some thing FOR him?

JACKSON: Not particularly.

MALE BARISTA: Then you can stay. He can go.

JACKSON: Naww. I feel like drinking corporate coffee instead.

DRAKE: [Outside:] That was really sweet what you did. I mean: vindictively sweet.

JACKSON: Oh? Yeah sure. Ready to go back to Stirfox?

DRAKE: Wait: so what you said…?

JACKSON: It’s totally up to you, man!

Dm.A.A.