VII

Gene (hands up in the air): Wait a damn minute! What the hell does any of this have to do with conspiracy theories?

Rob: About as much as that time Michelle accused you of seeing other women. 

Gene (tortured face): A flaming conspiracy if I ever saw one.

Cy: What was THAT all about?

Gene (eyes frozen straight ahead): Her alcoholic girlfriend thought it was a good idea to accuse me of seeing other women as a way of pressuring me into marriage.

Cy: I've come to believe it's not our girlfriends who are dangerous but THEIR girlfriends. Always meddling. Whispering jealous nothings in the dark. Screwing up things because they're not happy in their love lives.

Gene: No argument from me. Guys rarely interfere. As long as he's getting some action, we could care less.

Rob (trying to sound hip): Word is bond.

Cy (annoyed): I really wish you'd stop trying to sound black. Those dudes have enough problems without you butchering what's left of their culture.

Rob: In case you didn't notice---the blue's are going strong.

Cy: Yeah, now that we're all tired of zombiefied Keith Richards types strumming every black and blue note he can lift off a Muddy Waters record.

Gene: Spare me the conspiracy on this one. It's just a bunch of white kids influenced by black musicians. Their music took off because it's mainly bought by other white kids. If you put a white face on anything different in America you can sell big. It's more tragedy than conspiracy.

Cy (trying to sound hip): Sure U rite.

Rob: That sounded as black as Donnie Osmond. Take some of your own advice, Minister of Non-Culture.
 

VIII

Gene: If either one of you were any whiter I'd have to wear shades before my eyes burned out.

Rob: Look who's talking. This is the man who thinks he's hip 'cause he once sang in a gospel choir. (points up index finger) One time he sang. Now he's Kool Moe Gene. I think it was all just business politicking at it's best or worst depending on you look at it.

Cy: You got'em pegged brother Rob. Gene was simply trying to drum up business for the new black-superhero comic book line. What's that guy's name again?

Gene (irritated): Pulsar.

Cy: Yeah that's the ticket, Pulsar. The black superhero who speaks like the King James Bible. Can some one tell me--what kid of any colour--will relate to this corny-ass character? Bunch of white college kids got together and dreamt this nightmare to exploit the black market. It's no wonder black people believe in conspiracy theories even more than the rest of the nation.

Gene (defensive): Their heart was in the right place.

Rob: So is mine when it comes to UFO's.

Cy: Rob, I'm not impressed with pregnant weather balloons nor am I willing to go along with disrespectful artists who never do their homework on other cultures.

Gene: Like I said their heart was in the right place.

Cy: That's not good enough, their fucking heads oughta be in the right place---like in research. You'd think they never met a black person before in their life. I read one of those Pulsar comics. (quoting the comic) "Pulsar speakth the truth." 

Rob (surprised): He speaks like that? You're kidding right?

Cy: Ask the Pulsar peddler.

Rob: Tell me it ain't so.

Gene: The creators are trying something new.

Cy: Gene, come off it. This is nothing new. Pulsar sounds like F Troop in black face. The only reason the kids are buying this ripoff is there's nothing else out there for them to relate to in comic book land.
 

IX

Gene: You're being too harsh. It's a step in the right direction and you know it. (speaking to Rob) But Cy would rather see a conspiracy where none exists.

Rob: If anything--Pulsar is a conspiracy of bad taste.

Gene: How would you know? Aren't you the guy who bought the comic about the space alien who eats at the dumpster of an abortion clinic? 

Cy (sour face): Rob--you are nasty! 

Rob: It was a big-time story shift. The special "Afterbirth" issue. The creature ate their glands to help heal itself after a terrible crash landing. There's a metaphoric tie-in about abandoned aliens and child abuse... (looking at the staring faces of Gene and Cy) well, you have to read the whole series to understand....(quickly speaking) it's not as sick as it sounds.

Cy: I'll take your word for it. (looking at Gene) And you say I'm losing grip. Geez Louise.

Rob: Gene, I meant to ask you, what's going on in the Chamber of Commerce? I hear they're sending in more cops in the business districts and slapping businesses with a security tax.

Cy: Rob, that was smooth, how you shifted gears.

Rob (trying to sound hip): I'm smooth like dat.

Gene: Easy there, Kool Moe Geek, no one's about to cut off their nuts and rendezvous with a comet. You heard wrong. Probably another crank on the Net.

Rob: Fine, if you wanna take the chance. It's your rights they'll tramble on.

Gene: Whatta you mean by that?

Rob: Word is the cops are going to search businesses at random for contraband and firearms. City Hall suspects an inside job.

Cy: An inside job?

Rob: Yeah, like the suspect is actually a business owner coordinating the robberies to eventually drive down the property values so a big developer can come right in and buy up everything for a song.
 

X

Gene: That's gotta be the stupidest conspiracy theory yet. I have GOT to GET you OFF the Web and on to some good reading material like Shakespeare.

Cy: "To be or not to be," that is the question facing us now.

Gene: Couldn't you come up with a better quote?

Cy: "Et tu, Dorkus Maximus?"

Gene: Forget I asked.

Rob: Are you going to let these stormtroopers barge in here without a warant and rifle through your shit?

Cy: Yeah, without suspicion they treat YOU like the punk they're after.

Gene: Inside job or not. I say NOT! The Constitution is still in full effect at this store. Got it boys.

Cy: I'm with ya, but THEY got the guns.

Rob: We need a plan, fast!

Gene: Wait a minute, how do you even know all of this is for real, it might be...(hears phone, stops talking)

Cy: Exactly. (phone rings by cash register, Cy answers it) Hello. Yeah, he's right here. Rob it's for you. (hands phone to Rob)

Rob: Yo, Matrix what's the deal. (shocked) Are you sure? Only one? Alright, thanks I owe you. No, not now, later. Bye. (slams down phone) Gene, a cop is on the way to check out your store. Matrix says the sting is going down tonight.

Gene (pacing up and down store, nervous, sweating)

Cy: Goddamn this IS real. What do you want us to do?

Gene (thunderstuck): The first fucker that stops by--we let in, act natural, no problems. You and Rob start talking to the cop. I'll grab his gun. Then I'LL have a talk with the bastard.

Cy: You're not gonna shoot the guy, are ya?

Gene (incredulous): No, of course not! But I want answers and the cops have them. If he's clean, he'll understand, no hard feelings. Does everybody agree on the plan? Speak now or go home.
 

XI

Rob: In like Flynt, good buddy.

Gene: How 'bout you? (staring at Cy)

Cy (nervous): What's the plan again?

Rob: Come on, Cy, stop screwing around.

Cy: Shut ya mouth, alien-boy, I'm in all the way.

Gene (peeved): Took ya long enough. (peeking over at front window) Here comes the heat, take your places.

(knock at front door, Rob goes over to answer it. Opens door.)

Rob: Good evening officer. How can I help you?

Cop: Are you the owner of this establishment?

Rob: It's been called alot of things, but never an establishment. The owner is inside. Is there a problem, officer?

Cop: May I talk to the owner?

Rob: Certainly, where's my manners. (opening door wider to allow cop inside)

Cop (enters store, scans the room): I need to speak to the owner of this establishment.

Gene (standing towards the back, stares at Rob & Cy behind cop) I am the owner.

Cop: Please excuse the late hour, may I have a few moments of your time.

Gene: Aren't you a little too polite for a cop?

Cop: The way I see things, cops work for the people of the community. I come in respect. 

Gene (mystified): Sounds to me like the rantings of a rookie.

Cop: Sir, I've been on the force for six years.

Gene: Nice to hear you haven't lost your idealism---yet. What can I do for you?

Cop: As of this evening I have been assigned to parol the district. Lately there's been some break-ins, people are nervous,
 

XII

Cop {cont'd} complaints are starting to flood headquarters...and, well, you can guess the rest. I thought it best to speak to every business owner about the situation.
 
Gene: Very thorough of you. I commend your efforts. What is it you want from me?

Cop (taking out notepad and pen to write down possible info): Have you noticed anything or anybody unusual in the past six months?

Gene: Now that you mention it I have. More kids hang out at the new sandwich shop.

Cop: When did the sandwich shop open?

Gene: About two months ago.

Cop: Why you think more kids hang out there?

Gene: Probably because they have new video games to play. A number of stores took the games out.

Cop: Why were the games taken out?

Gene: Kids, you know, they play games, but don't spend much on any thing else. The machines make noise, the kids make noise, hell, it must get on your nerves after awhile.

Cop: Noticed anything else strange?

Gene: Not really. Except for the crazy rumors I hear?

Cop: And what are they?

Gene: There's two sets of rumors out there. The first suggests the robberies are the work of developers trying to scare away customers, lower property rates and then buy everything on the cheap.

Cop: Is that what people think?

Gene: Amazing, huh. The next one hits closer to home. The police are purposely steering street thugs here to rob our businesses and eventually force our hand by causing us to pressure the Mayor, increase cop salaries, hire more cops and pay higher taxes.

Cop: Who would believe that nonsense? Cops don't work that way.

Gene: Tell it to Rodney King, but give him a few minutes, the buzzing in his head hasn't quite stopped yet.
 

XIII

Cop: I take it--(pause)-you subscribe to these reckless rumors.

Gene (smiling): I'm only human.

Cop: Sir, I am also human. And these marvelous myths only serve to put my life in further danger.

Gene: No offense, pal, but that's why you get the big bucks. And I receive a big tax bill.

Rob (grabbing the cop's gun and yelling out): Jesus Christ, you guys are boring the shit out of me.

Cop (stunned, turns around quickly): That's not a toy, give it back.

Rob (cocking trigger): Which part do you want back?

Cop (nervous): Whatever you've done, we can talk about it. Just put the weapon down.

Gene (yelling at Rob): I had everything under control. What the hell are you doing?

Rob: Following your plan--with a little twist.

Cy: Great, Rob, you might as well ask him about the aliens at Roswell while you're at it.

Rob: Don't be stupid, I need to talk to the military and the CIA about that.

Gene (sarcastic): Cy, any questions about the JFK assassination you want to ask?

Cy: Hey, one conspiracy at the time, bud. In the meantime is anyone going to ask him why he's really here---or should I go to jail for no fucking reason whatsoever?.

Gene (moving towards Rob): Alright, since you put that so delicately. (taking gun from Rob and pointing it at cop while backing off to where he was standing) Why are you here, cop?

Cop (a bit manic): What does it matter? Whatever I say you're not going to believe anyhow. Your high on something. High or sober, cop-killers get the death penalty. I suggest you wise up and let me go.

Rob (edgey): He's definitely hiding something.
 

XIV

Cy (bored): Yeah, he knows the spaceships are in Hanger 17.

Rob (militant): That's 18. Hanger 18. I've had enough of your crap, Braveheart, if I didn't grab the gun I'd have to grab a mop to clean up the river of piss coming out of your pants.

Cy (approaching Rob, pushes him hard): Really! A gun in your hand, now you're a man. (loudly motioning to Rob to hit him) Come on, big man...turn your ass into a UFO.

Rob (laughs): Yeah, right. I get Ray Charles to handle my light work.

Cy: Pick on Ray Charles you prejudiced prick. Ever wonder why aliens never abduct black people? Because it's all a bullshit story made up by hillbillie sister-humpers who wanna feel special in the world. But I know how to solve it: teach'em to read and use soap! Some shampoo couldn't hurt either!

Gene (talking to cop): No sudden moves. Understand.

Cop (shaking his head in agreement)

Gene (yelling): Cut it the hell out before I call a cop!

Cy and Rob stop in their tracks and stare at Gene.

Gene (talking to Cy): Go see if he's got any friends out there.

Cy: Why not. He's got no friends in here.

Gene (talking to Cy): The cop, shithead, the cop, remember?

Cy gives Gene a dirty look and proceeds to open the store door to check for other cops.

Gene (talking to Rob): Rob, inform Big Brother (pointing at cop) what we heard about his plans.

Rob (squatting down to talk to cop): According to my sources, you and your fascist cohorts have been given orders to search businesses without a judge-ordered search warrant. Supposedly your looking for illegal contraband and firearms. Soon after you'll slap a security tax on businesses for these unconstitutional outrages.

Cop (angry): You've been smoking too much of that wacky-weed, mister. None of what you just said makes abit of sense. Use you head, man, this is America.