Come to your senses
Notes:
All text in this font is to be read by David
All text in this font (in italics) is stage directions, not to be read aloud.
All text in this font (in bold) is a replay from David’s Dictaphone i.e. when David speaks he records and then replays immediately.
A dark room. A man stands in the centre, he is scrawny with lank, greasy hair and a blank expression. The audience are placed on chairs throughout the space, isolated from each other. They are blindfolded. Unknown to them, they are surrounded by corpses, torn limbs, pieces of human flesh. The corpses have all had their eyeballs removed, exposing their dark sockets. Some corpses are sat on chairs, the others are scattered across the floor. The smell of bacon wafts through the air.
David: A dark room. A man stands in the centre, his audience surround him on all sides, blind. The lights come up to a dim state. He has pulled a Dictaphone out of his left pocket and is recording. The smell of bacon wafts through the air.
A dark room. A man stands in the centre, his audience surround him on all sides, blind. The lights come up to a dim state. He has pulled a Dictaphone out of his left pocket and is recording. The smell of bacon wafts through the air.
He is tall, muscular and devilishly handsome.
Pause
Shit.
He rewinds the tape.
He is tall and muscular. The man is called David. He is an audio describer. He works in the theatre, allowing blind people to access theatre productions.
He is tall and muscular. The man is called David. He is an audio describer. He works in the theatre, allowing blind people to access theatre productions.
Pause
David is waiting.
Pause. ‘Rewind’.’Record’
David is waiting for a sandwich.
David is waiting for a sandwich.
David inspects his audience. They seem willing to listen to him. He sits in front of one of them, preparing to tell his life story.
David inspects his audience. They seem willing to listen to him. He sits in front of one of them, preparing to tell his life story.
Hello. I'm David. I'm 37. I'm waiting for a sandwich. I live here. I am an audio describer.
David sits, waiting for a response.
David sits, waiting for a response.
Would you like to see something? I have this piece of leather. It means a lot to me. I can show you, if you like.
David pulls a piece of pale leather out of his pocket.
David pulls a piece of pale leather out of his pocket.
See this? This is leather, pale leather. It feels soft, and it has a picture on it. Feel it.
David holds out his piece of leather to the figure in front of him. No response. He stands up and walks to another figure, sitting down at its feet.
David holds out his piece of leather to the figure in front of him. No response. He stands up and walks to another figure, sitting down at its feet.
I am an audio describer. That means that I describe action on the stage. I talk about people, what they look like, where they go, what they do. I work on plays. I'm working on a play now. It's about cannibalism. See this piece of leather?
He holds the leather out to the figure in front of him.
He holds the leather out to the figure in front of him.
It's a piece of human skin. Fascinating. And the picture on it? It's a tattoo. It was preserved in 70% ethanol and 30% water for the tattoo museum in Amsterdam. And it's over 200 years old. If you had enough of them, you could make a coat, or a blanket, or a roof. Anything.
David stands. He puts his piece of skin back in his pocket.
David stands. He puts his piece of skin back in his pocket.
He is waiting for his sandwich.
He is waiting for his sandwich.
'Pause', 'rewind', 'record'.
He is still waiting for his sandwich.
He is still waiting for his sandwich.
David begins to walk around the space, addressing members of his audience as he passes them. They remain still, emotionless, sat up straight.
David begins to walk around the space, addressing members of his audience as he passes them. They remain still, emotionless, sat up straight.
Some people say that cannibals are a construct of our own curiosity, that they never existed in the past, that we've made it all up. But I think they must have existed, because there are so many stories, and you can't make that many stories up. Apart from in the Bible. And even now, there are still cannibals. I read about it in the paper.
David sits in front of another audience member.
David sits in front of another audience member.
A couple of months ago, two Dutch TV presenters ate a small piece of each other’s flesh live on screen. They each gave up a small piece of muscle for the other one to try. They said it tasted like pork. Makes sense, most humans are pigs. Laughs. It’s difficult to watch here. The video is banned from YouTube because cannibalism is so frowned upon in so many cultures. But I bet everyone would do it if they really had to. Even vegetarians.
David moves to a new audience member.
David moves to a new audience member.
Did you hear about that man who advertised on the internet for someone to eat? He was looking for a human victim, someone who would willingly give up their body for him to consume. Armin Meiwes, that was his name. He was German. A cruel race. And so he posted this advert and lots of people replied. But the only one that would go through with it was called Bernd Jürgen Brandes. For Meiwes the whole thing was an act of sexual enjoyment and pleasure. Brandes asks Meiwes to bite his penis off, but he couldn’t do it. So he cut it off with a knife. And he tried to eat it raw but it was too tough, so then he cooked it with salt, pepper, wine and garlic to make it delicious. But he burnt it and had to feed it to his dog. Poor dog. And then Brandes died and Meiwes ate his body in a variety of weird and wonderful recipes. He tried to ground his bones into flour. He hung his body on a meat hook and tore chunks off it for his eating pleasure. I don’t know what he did with his face. His tongue, his lips, his eyes…
I dream of a world where nobody has eyes. Because if we didn’t have eyes, then we couldn’t judge people. And we’d all help each other, rather than people being selfish, they’d be selfless and happy. Happy with blindness. Do you see? No, of course you don’t. Laughs.
When I was at school, people used to laugh at me for the way I look. I lied to you earlier. I’m sorry. I’m not tall, dark and devilishly handsome. And I shouldn’t even have said that because it’s against the code. Rules are not made to be broken. No emotion, that’s what they say. Stand up and be a man. Big boys don’t cry.
David stands and sniffs the air.
David stands and sniffs the air.
They say that the smell of bacon can turn a vegetarian…that it’s the one thing they truly can’t resist. And the smell of cooking human flesh is so similar to bacon in so many ways, so surely they couldn’t turn it down.
Pause.
My sandwich should be just about ready.
David exits. His audience give him a standing ovation and a rousing applause.
He rewinds the tape and presses ‘play’, placing the Dictaphone on the floor while he leaves the room.
David exits. His audience give him a standing ovation and a rousing applause.
David exits the room, leaving his audience to wait for him. Perhaps at this point some of them will remove their blindfolds. The Dictaphone keeps playing, but the tape is blank. David reappears shortly, with a sandwich in his hand.
Open your eyes. You can all take them off now, you can see what I’ve become.
David sits in a chair in the centre of the room.
Shocking, isn’t it? I can’t even remember how it happened, why it happened. She just kept pushing me, like she wanted me to do it. She told me that I couldn’t cry anymore, I had to toughen up and be a man. So I did.
David puts his sandwich down, untouched, and walks to a maimed figure in a corner of the room.
I’m so sorry mother, I never meant for this to happen.
He strokes her hair, turning to look at his audience.
I didn’t know what to do. I had to hide the evidence, and I’d read about these cases where people ate their victims just so no one found out. So that’s what I did. But I got a taste for it.
He stands, smiling menacingly.
And that’s where you come in.
He walks back to his chair, still smiling menacingly.
Have you ever tasted blood? It’s sweet, like the sweetest form of revenge. It’s thick, dark, sticks to your teeth. It’s rich, delicious. Leaves you wanting more. And flesh? Well, that’s a whole different story. It’s pretty healthy, if you stay away from the obese ones. Saying that, you need a bit of fat through the meat, no anorexics here! Laughs. Flesh is so smooth, so natural, it melts in the mouth if you cook it right. A leg takes about 4 hours, roasting away in the oven with onions and garlic and maybe some spices if you’re feeling adventurous.
Pause.
Look at her beautiful face. So tender, so...
Suddenly She looks like she’s in pain. Doesn’t she? She looks like she’s hurting. Look at her face. I’ve ruined her. She had the most beautiful eyes. My father always said that you could swim in her eyes. The softest shade of blue, like ice. She could be cold as ice sometimes, sometimes she stared at me and it was like she was looking through me. Like I wasn’t there. I just wanted someone to talk to, someone to understand.
Pause. He drops his mother gently and walks back to his chair. He picks up his sandwich and begins to eat it.
Between bites I’ve never done this before. Normally I just do it quickly. No talking, no conversation, no pointless, mindless babbling. I just kill and then it’s done.
He looks down at the one remaining bite of his sandwich. He looks up, reality hits.
I think I’m full.
Do you understand? I had to do it. Her eyes were just staring at me, through me. Like I wasn’t there. I’m here. David’s here.
He rushes to his mother’s corpse
Mother, I’m here. It’s David. David is here. Mother, please open your eyes.
He stares at his mother’s face, willing her to come back to life. Silence.
Please go. Please run. Somebody call the police. Please. I’m tired. I thought I could…but I can’t. The words all sound so harsh and I can’t take them back.
Quietly I can’t take any of it back.
Go! I’m telling you to go. Why won’t you listen?! Please go, please tell someone.
The audience slowly rise and leave the space. David sits with his mother’s head in his arms, muttering
Open your eyes. Just open your eyes.
Blackout