THE NEXT LEVEL DOWN: ACT II, SCENE ONE.

Act II, Scene One: A Jail.

DRAKE: Jerry Johnson!

JERRY: What’s UP buddy?

DRAKE: DUDE! What are you doing here?

JERRY: I got caught.

DRAKE: Oh, god.

JERRY: Don’t tell them though.

DRAKE: Got it.

JERRY: I’m looking at a five thousand dollar bail.

DRAKE: CHRIST.

JERRY: I know. TELL me about it.

DRAKE: Christ… you need a savior?

JERRY: Huh?

DRAKE: I mean: who’s going to bail you out?

JERRY: I don’t know. I might be looking at fifteen years.

DRAKE: Are you SERIOUS?

JERRY: Why would I be joking?

DRAKE: FUCK.

JERRY: Yeah.

DRAKE: Did some body… rat you out, dog?

JERRY: Hey. What did I tell you?

DRAKE: I mean: HYPOTHETICALLY.

JERRY: [grins sardonically, with passive aggression and incredulity.] Well: HYPOTHETICALLY if I’d been dealing THEORETICALLY then we can say in THEORY that it was probably Nutcase who did it.

DRAKE: The balding black kid?

JERRY: [sarcastically:] NO. The OTHER nutcase.

DRAKE: So wait: is this a name? Or a description.

JERRY: No. You know the balding skinny piece of shit that all ways came in stoned to the O’Donnell’s?

DRAKE: Nutcase.

JERRY: Well. Not THAT guy. But an OTHER guy who looks just like him.

DRAKE: Oh. [comprehending.] I see.

JERRY: But TWICE the piece of shit.

DRAKE: HEY, Virgil. Hey man you’re not going to believe this…

JERRY: Don’t preface. You only have two minutes.

DRAKE: Shut up, J.J. [Pause.] I’m so sorry that was a force of habit.

JERRY: No worries.

DRAKE: ANY way: look man. I’m in jail. I need you to bail me out. San Diego County. You can find it on just about any map. And no: I am not guilty. [Pause.] Obviously.

DRAKE: Wrong place wrong time.

JERRY: Uh HUH.

DRAKE: So what do you do in prison any way?

JERRY: The usual you know. The white kids stick together.

DRAKE: That sounds nice.

JERRY: We brew wine…

DRAKE: Oh wow.

JERRY: In the toilets.

DRAKE: Oh. Wow.

JERRY: And some times a fight breaks out. And then you have to watch your back. I saw a guy get thrown down a staircase once.

DRAKE: Ouch.

JERRY: And then the guy who threw him came down the stairs.

DRAKE: Why are you telling me all this?

JERRY: Just you know. In case Virgil doesn’t call back.

JERRY: So want to tell me how come you got here? You know. Since you pretty much all ready told the entire department that I’m guilty as charged.

DRAKE: I mean: it’s crazy. Especially since you mentioned wine. [Pause.] WOAH.

JERRY: Go on.

DRAKE: You know: come to think of it. You’re just in transit here. From the streets to prison.

JERRY: [sarcastically, with added sting and theatrical emphasis, mocking shock:] NO.

DRAKE: I had not heard from you in years. Until I saw you again at your parents’ house. On New Year’s Eve. All most a year ago exactly. You invited me to hang out with your friends. Your parents were throwing a party.

JERRY: Good times, right?

DRAKE: You looked clean. But your friends were not. There were those two lesbians. Except they were not lesbian. They were pretending to be. Just to get attention. You told me. And I wondered if all homosexuality was not just a trend. Then they got high in your parents’ bathroom.

JERRY: TELL me about it.

DRAKE: I did not know that you dealt still. Wait. Or is it dealed?

JERRY: Honestly. Most of my clients wouldn’t care.

DRAKE: But YOU would. You were all ways clever.

JERRY: Technically it’s dealt.

DRAKE: Okay. So not like hanged. But like hung.

JERRY: Cool story bro.

DRAKE: And your parents: they had so much fun. With their friends. In their big house. One was intoxicated as fuck on… wine or some thing. And she acted so damned friendly I thought that she might be coming onto me.

JERRY: PROBABLY.

DRAKE: And I didn’t bother to follow her up on that. It’s true: women can have sex whenever. They lose interest. They start to resent men, who must all ways, by nature, be desperate. Because of sperm count. And owing to social norm. A bit of both. Nature and nurture. Vital and social functions.

JERRY: YUP.

DRAKE: But the older they get, the more mature. Only they’ve had so much sex by that point that they can easily let men go. So I didn’t say any thing. And now: I’m probably never going to see her again.

JERRY: IMAGINE that!

DRAKE: Still: I remember your parents. How your dad said he hoped I would be one of “his clean friends”.

JERRY: “HIS”?

DRAKE: I meant yours. “His” in quotes.

JERRY: Got ya.

DRAKE: That was what the cops said when they searched us that one time. They shone the light in my eye. And since I’d been up all night writing… my pupils were dilated. And my hands were sweating. From the stress. Because apparently criminals never get stressed unless they are on drugs. Or: the drugs keep them from getting stressed. But the sweat betrays them like a tell-tale heart. [sigh.] and you told me that they could have detained me for eight hours. Just like that. Regardless. Just because you had your fourth amendment waived. Which isn’t even Constitutional.

JERRY: Well. TECHNICALLY it is…

DRAKE: That’s what had all ways puzzled me about you. You were so smart. SO smart. I don’t know if it’s a Libra thing. But why were you all so so stupid?

JERRY: Well. I was on the cusp.

DRAKE: With Virgo. So the Virgo side was smart and then the Libra wanted just to party and get laid?

JERRY: Well. Yeah.

DRAKE: Unless Virgil does not reply. Then I’ll establish now once and for all that Virgos are the stupid ones. [Pause.] May be it was just the Libra. Just the need for you to balance your intelligence with your stupidity. Most people who have both potentialities go one way or an other. It’s like Arthur Clarke said: it has yet to be determined whether or not intelligence has any survival value.

JERRY: Well. Intelligence was not what got me here. But just stupidity.

DRAKE: Yup. And Nutcase.

JERRY: True.

DRAKE: Unless: it was CLEVERNESS that got you here. Which is a bit of both. Intelligence used towards totally fruitless purposes.

JERRY: What? Getting people high?

DRAKE: Your parents, and their friends: they had such fun. I recall distinctly envying them. Playing cards in that luxurious kitchen. Listening to grunge.

JERRY: Getting wasted off of legal intoxicants.

DRAKE: Yes: the depressant that makes people happy. The intoxicant that is the cure for poison. The hypnotic that wakes people up.

BOTH: Alcohol!

DRAKE: And yet: that got me here. The wine my friend drunk. At the theatre.

JERRY: Woah. You guys snuck into the theatre? The one in Old Poway?

DRAKE: Some where near there… I cannot remember.

JERRY: Where is he now?

DRAKE: I don’t know.

JERRY: Probably getting drug tested.

DRAKE: I’m fucked.

JERRY: So now that you’ve answered my question… you know, after ten or fifteen minutes…

DRAKE: Sorry.

JERRY: It’s fine. I was going to say: did your story have a point?

DRAKE: My point was: Christ. We hung out there in the garage. And every one just looked so: MISERABLE. I got this girl’s number and when I texted her her boyfriend replied like: “Hey. Why you calling my girl while we’re doing anal?”

JERRY: You know: that might not have been her boyfriend. That might have been her trying to get you off her back.

DRAKE: Her ass.

JERRY: Same thing.

DRAKE: I all most replied: “I’m sorry. I was not AWARE that you were getting anal. Next time I will not be so PRESUMPTUOUS as to suppose that you two were NOT doing anal at that very moment…”

JERRY: Lol.

DRAKE: “…thank you for informing me as to the frequency of your sodomistic penetrations. You have my ongoing respect.” Hm: And then. Next I saw you you were dealing again. That year… THIS year… you got yourself a motorcycle with only the drug money. And you got the Taurus girl’s number from Stirfox.

JERRY: Who?

DRAKE: And I told you she had a boyfriend. And was loyal. And you told me that if I wanted to screw her I should go for it. But to get off your case about it. [Pause.] You said it sarcastically. Jokingly. Like you were trying to hide how you were feeling.

JERRY: Hm. I’m not too sure about that.

DRAKE: It’s okay. I’m not too sure about any thing my self. So that makes two of us.

JERRY: RIGHT. Well: you can feel free to tell me the thesis of your paper at ANY time.

DRAKE: Oh.

JERRY: JUST so you know.

DRAKE: Yeah. Well: it’s uncanny. We keep running into one an other. Of all the odds. Just as you are passing through from streets to prison. It would just so HAPPEN that I go to jail for the first time and find you here.

JERRY: That’s a trip.

DRAKE: And it makes me remember how you wound up on the streets again in the first place. How your parents kicked you out again when they found out that you were dealing. Yet again. And how this went in cycles. And yeah: part of this was your own doing. But part of it seems, oddly, fated.

JERRY: So you think that GOD wants me to be here?

DRAKE: Is it that much worse than saying it is all your fault? I mean: look. Here we are. The both of us. One COULD say it was all our own doing. But: here we both are. The world does not revolve around us. Yet we gravitate together like twin black holes. So: what made it happen? I wonder. I’ve ALL ways wondered.

JERRY: Like I said: it’s a trip.

DRAKE: We watched that show on late night television after New Year’s. In your bedroom. You had a cool set-up. I slept on the couch. The show was trippy as all fuck. It was a compilation of works by art students. It was literally AWESOME. I felt I could die in peace.

JERRY: You do know, don’t you:

DRAKE: YES. Damn it. YES. MOST of those artists were on drugs.

JERRY: Yup.

DRAKE: Still: watching your friends in the garage. Mere moments prior. No offense. But so artless.

JERRY: None taken.

JACKSON: Yo! We’re out.

DRAKE: Are you serious?

JACKSON: Yeah! Turns out that that wine was just a prop. They docked us for trespassing, but they can’t arrest us without a warning. And drinking grape juice is hardly a crime if it’s just sitting out aging.

JERRY: Turning to wine.

DRAKE: But: wait. you weren’t really drunk?

JACKSON: You ready to GO or what?

DRAKE: But how did you…?

JACKSON: I had my pain medications still. From the dentist.

DRAKE: You MIXED meds with DRINKS?

JACKSON: You ready to go? I’m kind of getting tired of this place.

DRAKE: You could have DIED!

JERRY: Pain meds? Naw.

JACKSON: Your stories were so boring I was ready to. But now I’m ready to go. If you’re all about staying here that’s cool with me.

DRAKE: Fine. Whatever.

JACKSON: So you’re whatever if I leave you?

DRAKE: Why am I tied to you any way?

JACKSON: Who’s this dude?

JERRY: Name’s J.J.

JACKSON: Nice to meet you. Did you keep my friend company?

JERRY: Like a boss.

JACKSON: Sweet.

DRAKE: J.J.: I swear. If there’s any thing I can do to help…

JERRY: There isn’t. I did this to my self.

DRAKE: But: what I said. About fate and synchronicity.

JACKSON: Okay I apologise on behalf of my friend.

JERRY: It’s all right. I’ve known him for years.

JACKSON: Okay so you are used to it.

DRAKE: Wait. [confused.] What?

JACKSON: Let’s go Drake.

Dm.A.A.