Drama: Knockmeaden( Day 19 )

The Challenge for Day 19

Today’s challenge is to “Write in someone else’s Voice.” I’ve just recently been reading some of the works of Martin McDonough, author of The Beauty Queen of Leenane, so I thought this might make for an interesting challenge. My first attempt at Drama. Apologies in advance for the language, but these characters are a bit naughty 🙂

Drama: Knockmeaden

Here are a few, brief details of the play. I’ll probably add more when I get time!

Background:

This Drama is set in Knockmeaden, a rural village located about three kilometers from Westport.  It revolves around the relationship between two brothers, Micky and Tommy and their search for a wife. The first to get married will inherit the farm, but if neither does, then it falls to the older brother, Micky.

Setting:

An old fashioned pub interior, rows of wooden barstools along the counter, 1916 Proclamation and local GAA posters on the wall. The bartender is standing behind the bar, to the left, shielded from view by a beer keg. In front of him sits Delia Kelly, alternating between sips of pink gin and mouthfuls of Tayto crisps. Her eyes are glued to a copy of the Irish Independent. The bar is L shaped and in the longer part sit Micky and Tommy, two brothers in their sixties. Two pints of well headed Guinness stand on the bar in front of them.

Excerpt: Knockmeaden

MICKY: Look at the cut of Delia Kelly, hips from here to Clifden. Should have stayed there while she was at it. Hear she’s moved into old Biddy Cleary’s place, discoverin’ herself or some such shite. Good luck to her, sure the sewage will get rid of her soon enough, same with all them arty farty types.

TOMMY: Well, at least its a bit of young blood around these parts, God knows we don’t see much of that in this miserable barnyard of a place.

MICKY: Are ya gettin’ desperate or somethin’, Tommy me lad? You’re not tellin’ me you’d jump on that one, are ya? Sure you’d be knocked out flat, like poor Paddy Flynn the day the Fresians turned on the ould chancer.

TOMMY: Don’t see much wrong with her, Micky. A fine girl, good breedin’ stock, I heard Seanie Cleary sayin’ she’s the youngest of fifteen. Imagine that now. And a smart one too, by the looks of it. Wouldnt say no now, to be honest.

(Tommy takes a slurp of Guinness and licks his lips).

MICKY: Ah, go way, ya eegit. Sure what would you know about it? You couldn’t even grab a hould of Maisie McGinley, don’t be coddin’ yerself, lad. (Snorts loudly)

TOMMY: I have me standards, looking for more than that rotten ould whore, thanks very much.

MICKY: Speak of the divil, there she is. Say that to her face now, ya thick bollocks

(Maisie saunters in the door and sits on the barstool beside Micky, hitching  her skirt)

MICKY: Tommy here says he’s mad for ya, isn’t that right, Tomeen?

(Tommy jumps up like he’s just been shot.)

TOMMY: What’ll you have Maisie?

MAISIE: Sure, fire us over a Jameson, can’t beat a bit of the ould Irish. (Winks)

(Tommy walks to the other side of the bar, sidling up beside Delia and they begin a friendly conversation. Maisie and Micky talk at each other, but both are eyeing the pair in the corner.)

MAISIE: Would ya look at him, it’s them quiet ones you need to watch, I’m always tellin’ ya that.

MICKY: Sure that lad wouldn’t know a ride if it came up and kicked him in the arse. ( Takes a big slug of Guinness, wipes his mouth)

MAISIE(Laughing): Maybe he’s the cute one though, Micky. Savin’ himself for the likes of Delia Kelly, her that’s lonely as a lost swan ever since she moved into Cleary’s cottage. Needs a man badly, that one. Sure maybe Tommy’ll be the one to walk her up the aisle.

MICKY: What the Hell are you on about? Sure he was just sayin’ he fancied a go at you, woman.  (Finishes pint quickly)

MAISIE: Ah Micky, I might be a loose woman, but I’m not an eegit.  He hasn’t a notion, sure isn’t he up there starin’ into Delia’s eyes like a dog in heat. Ah, that Tommy lad, he knows what he’s at.

MICKY(Roaring): Tommy Daly, we’re dyin’ of drought here. What the feck is keepin’ ya?  Are ya expectin’ one of them drones to drop it over? They might bring the Brits to a standstill, but not feckin’ Brady’s bar.

Day 19 of My 500 Words 31 Day Challenge, hosted by Jeff Goins. Keeping to the Ireland theme.”  Knockmeaden”, a drama excerpt.

Photo by mnm.all on Unsplash