Hoop up for for sex for free no sing up
There are scattered BOOS AND CATCALLS, and a bottle thrown by someone in the audience crashes on the stage. Johnny Rotten is hurled, shoved or thrown back on stage where, backed by the continuing beat, he somehow picks up the threads of the number and finishes it. JOHNNY ROTTEN Come outside with me and I'll kill you! STRIPPER I'm going to do my act and collect my three quid and you sods can go to hell for all I care! STEVE JONES (dismissing the situation) Let her then. STEVE JONES (to audience) We got a bit o' slash fer ya - between sets. The Disc Jockey/Cambridge Rapist puts on what he hopes is an appropriate record while the disgruntled Sex Pistols crowd into the limited area backstage. GREEN ROOM - BACKSTAGEIt is a dismal room with slogans and signs on the walls: NO SMOKING OR DRINKING ONSTAGE NO PLAY, NO PAY STAGE PROPS PROPERTY OF THE HOUSEThey settle down, disgusted. (looks around the pathetic dressing room) I wish I could book my acts into nice places like this - they're always bitching, you know.
In the immediate b.g., still not defeated, the Three Old Men move back and forth. The rest of the audience have come for the featured act and don't understand or like this music. Steve darts around backwards and forwards behind the sound system, which is only partly the Pistols and mostly belongs to the featured band. I paid 65p to come all the way from Edgeware and I'm going to do my act! In the audience, as before, the Punk Rockers are getting it on with the music. One in particular, a GERMAN, bellows loudly in protest. She's about to say something when he looks over, sees an invader on his stage, and roughly pushes her away. Backstage, the Stripper senses at least a token victory. From out of view backstage, Steve Jones appears again and grabs a mike.
Hurries backs and blackens the face of the astonished Girl, and then pours paint over her hair and dress, daubing like an action painter - and then reaching over instinctively to grab the blackened cap of a nearby Coal Miner, which he claps on the Girl's head. Proby, ignoring them, steps back to admire his handiwork with the little Girl. These few punk rockers are getting off on the Sex Pistols. On stage, Paul Cook, ever insistent on keeping the show together, keeps the beat during the brawl. Her words cannot quite be made out, but we can read her lips. STRIPPER (continuing) You get the fuck off that stage! She marches out into the spotlight, furious, attracting everyone's attention. She approaches the lead singer, Johnny Rotten, deep into his song. The Sex Pistols song collapses into disorganized pieces. As this conversation continues, we INTERCUT (as roughly indicated below) this backstage talk with the Stripper onstage, and the mixed reaction of the audience.
He hurries over to the ARTIST and snatches up a bottle of black water colors. And DEBBIE JUVENILE in leather pants and a mesh top, with a safety pin coming through where her left nipple is. The guy's friends come off their chairs after the punk rockers, and Johnny Rotten is thrown offstage into a brawl with all sorts of people, including a few punkers who manage to peel off with the aid of the other brawlers. From his POV, distracting him, we see the Stripper, furious, shouting at him. He is totally indifferent to the girl and her crisis, and concerned only with the music. Paul Cook, behind his drums, cannot see the Stripper and continues to lay down the beat, although curious about what's attracting the attention of the others. The Stripper, pushed beyond the powers of endurance, can no longer remain backstage. The sight of the woman on stage inspires the Horny Tourists, who cheer. Steering wide of the dangerous Johnny Rotten this time, the Stripper heads straight for a mangy couch at the side of the stage. Loud cheering, and scuffles in the aisles between partisans of the two forms of entertainment. In the midst of the growing chaos, the Disc Jockey pushes a large red button (labeled "Curtain") and the curtains close. PROBY I haven't seen you boys since that day at the unemployment queue. JOHNNY ROTTEN (complaining obliquely) I don't like to be annoyed backstage.
He stacks one on its end and balances the other over it, forming a makeshift table. COCKNEY TWO (continuing) There's the little bugger - right in bed between his majesty and the queen!
The wait grows long and tiresome for the people in line. The Coal Miner steps forward and throws down five quid. He comes on to people as if he'd made a careful study of the Zero Mostel character in "The Producers" (1968). For a moment, Proby does nothing more than quietly regard the unemployment queue. SID VICIOUS (to the Miner) Why stand in line, you silly twit? STEVE JONES They take it with one hand and give it back with the other. Johnny Rotten sticks out a foot and trips up the Unicyclist, who falls into the arms of the Weight-Lifter. PAUL COOK (to Blind Beggar) Seen any good films lately? PROBY What do you have to lose by a simple audition? Over their shoulders: SID VICIOUS There are too many stars as it is. Proby smiles a curious smile, retreating to the limousine. The lead singer is Johnny Rotten, thin, angry-faced, who assaults songs and audiences as if they were his personal enemies of long-standing. He makes motions of dismissal with his head and hands. Tremendous energy is unleashed in the tiny space, as Johnny Rotten leans far over the crowd, playing them, playing with them, as the band attacks the song.