American Satan Page #2

you f***in' weirdo.

Oh.

Hey, have a little faith in me.

(RADIO FREQUENCY STATIC)

And the boys on my left,

they just arrived in town and

hope to be the next big thing!

Hey, you guys know

what hope is, don't you?

Hope is the little old lady

in Vegas

with a bucket full of pennies.

Three sevens. Three sevens!

We're actually f***ing here!

Right, when are we gonna go

meet up with the record label?

Oh, you know what, better yet

let's get our booking agent

to line up some local gigs

before the tour, yeah?

Right. Settle down, sunshine.

I know you're excited.

Management deals with all that.

All the business.

- The record label...

- Oh, right, f*** of course.

Well, let's just meet up with him

now. Yeah? He sounds brilliant!

You've already met him.

- Come again?

- Um, yeah, um...

I'm the manager. Yeah. Hi.

- Um, four, five years now.

- Five years.

Right. Bollocks. For real,

let's get on with it. Come on.

- Where's he at?

- What's wrong with this pecker?

That's f***ing daft, mate!

You're a roadie who's never been on

the road before not a f***ing manager!

Yeah? I managed to get you from

some shitty little pub in England

with your four shitty fans

from the Sunset strip.

- It's not a bad start! Whoa!

- You're f***ing dead!

- Stop him! Stop him!

- Calm the f*** down, man.

- Listen! Ricky might work in mysterious ways.

- Yes.

- We do have a plan.

- Mysterious?

- F***ing pathologically lying and mysterious, man!

- All right, listen.

Just wait until you meet Johnny.

Ricky found him on line what?

- Four? Four.

- Four years ago, yeah.

- Four years ago and we've been writing together ever since.

- (SIGHS)

- Over webcam.

- Yeah.

(SIGHS) Webcam?

You've never even met this kid

in real life before, have you?

- No. No. No. But, okay.

- (EXHALES)

You want the coolest job

in the world, yeah?

- Guess what, you've got to work for it.

- Not wrong.

Right.

(GROANS) Fine.

F*** both of you.

- Ouch.

- Why's he such a cock?

What's the plan then, man?

Uh, I say that we move into our new

spot. Just chill out. Shoot the breeze.

- Wait for the other guys to get here.

- Like it. I am in.

Fine. Good. I'm f***ing

knackered. Let's get on with it.

- Where's it at?

- We're here.

What?

- What's the code, man?

- No code.

Hop in!

(SCOFFS)

We're living in a van.

Yes. It's rock 'n' roll.

Now stop being

such a whiny c*nt and get in.

Go on.

I get the back row

and that is nonnegotiable, man.

(JOHNNY YELLING)

- Hello!

- (ALL CLAMORING)

- F***!

- Yes!

How have you been?

Dylan, man, I heard so much

about you, seriously, dude.

Right, right. Yeah well it's probably

all bollocks just like this whole project.

Rate this script:5.0 / 2 votes