Željko Hubač


Three bizarre scenes for five actors and fifteen characters

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Željko Hubač was born in Tuzla, Bosnia and Hercegovina, at 1967. He graduated at Electronic Faculty, Faculty of Physics and Faculty of Dramatic Art - Department of Dramaturgy. He wrote 15 plays (mostly comedies) for theatre in Serbia and Bulgaria, also his performances had more than 1000 reprises in professional theatres. He has received some of most important prizes for playwriting in Serbia. His plays have been translated at German, English and Bulgarian language. He is employed in National Theatre in Belgrade as dramaturge and chief editor of Publishing Department.


  • MARTIN (38) / MILAN (32) / BIKSA (25)
  • ĐIĐA (38) / SASHA (32) / GAGA (25)
  • MINA (38) / MAJDA (32) / SVETLANA (25)
  • KATARINA (38) / KSENIJA (32) / IVA (25)
  • VOJA (38) / RITCHIE (32) / DEJAN (25)


(It’s evening. The flat roof of one of many residential buildings in Belgrade. Coaxial cables are everywhere. In addition, there are many old logarithm TV antennas on the chimneys. Music – Disciplina kitchme, early phase, so-called the new wave. Điđa, not a young man any more, 38 years old, is standing on the flat roof’s edge. He is a guy that used to take care about his appearance, but now, bearing in mind the circumstances and his readiness to commit suicide, he is, let’s say, freshly disheveled. Martin is finding his way through many TV antennas and cables. One cannot say that he was once a young man, although he is only 38. He is a messy, urban drug-addict. Martin is looking at the heaps of cables and he doesn’t notice Điđa. Điđa notices him.)

ĐIĐA: Don’t come near, I’ll jump!

(Martin, completely taken aback, shocked by the fact that there are people on the roof, surprised by the words and sight jumps and, because of loads of cables, falls down and, by doing so, pulls on antennas that fall down on him.)

MARTIN: Fuck! Fuck you, you peace of shit.

ĐIĐA: Don’t come near, I’ll jump!

MARTIN: Some peace of work...

ĐIĐA: Listen, I’ll jump! I’m not joking!

MARTIN: Don’t give me that shit, my heart will jump right out from my chest. I’m shitless. Shitless!

ĐIĐA: I mean it. Who ever sent you...

(Martin tries to remove cables and TV antennas and to stand up.)

MARTIN: Fucking people... They have cable for years, but they don’t take antennas down...

ĐIĐA: That pretence will not work, you know...

MARTIN: Hey, cool down.

ĐIĐA: I won’t cool down...

MARTIN: Then don’t! Fuck... Fucking wires... Come, help me...

ĐIĐA: Don’t come near.

MARTIN: How can I come near, man, when I can’t stand up... It’s your fault I’m stuck in the middle of a ton of wires...

ĐIĐA: It’s my fault!?

MARTIN: No way, it’s my fault that the everyday sight of you, standing naked on the ledge, shocked me. Come, help me, unwrap me...

(Pause. They look at each other. Điđa bends down and takes a switch-knife from the pocket of his trousers folded at his feet. He approaches Martin with the knife in his hand.)

MARTIN: What will you do with this knife? Fuck, are you homicidal or suicidal. Hey...!

(Điđa uses the knife to cut several coaxial cables and free Martin. Điđa turns around and walks to the ledge. Martin wants to thank him.)

MARTIN: Listen...

(Điđa turns quickly. The knife is in his hand, pointed at Martin.)

MARTIN: I just...Thank you...

(Điđa waves his hand and goes back to the ledge.)

ĐIĐA: You know… you said you were scared, I was also...

MARTIN: Well, you are one step away from falling down sixteen floors and I (he looks at the inscription of the antenna under his behind) have TV UHF-VHF Log 2 in my ass...

(Martin wants to be funny. He expects Điđa’s reaction, and that, of course, doesn’t happen. Pause.)

MARTIN: So, what will you do... Jump?

ĐIĐA: It’s none of your business.

MARTIN: Well, maybe not, but...

ĐIĐA: Mind your business...

MARTIN: But I am here on my business.

ĐIĐA: Right here?


ĐIĐA: Katarina sent you.

MARTIN: Mina sent me.

ĐIĐA: Mina, who?

MARTIN: Katarina, who?

(Both men are confused for a moment. Martin’s cellular rings. Martin answers.)

MARTIN: Hello. Yes, I’m on the top... No, I didn’t take it... Well, because... Hey, I don’t want to explain now... What can I say! No, I didn’t get high... Well, because... No, I’m not trying to quit... What I’m doing. You want to know what I’m doing! Well I’m taking logarithm TV antennas and coaxial cables from my ass and talking to a nude suicidal maniac... Nude, my dear, nude, who’s standing exactly on our spot... Yes, exactly there... He is completely nude. Completely! You think I’m lying? Come and see for yourself... Climb upstairs, dear... The same way I climbed sixteen floors!

ĐIĐA: Don’t bring anybody else here... You should get lost as well...

MARTIN: Here he is. Mina doesn’t believe that I’m here with you. Please, tell her that...

ĐIĐA: I told you not to come near...

MARTIN: I have no patience... Here, take it!

ĐIĐA: Get away from me. I'll jump! I mean it!

MARTIN: Then explain while falling, so that I wouldn't have ...

(Martin pushes his cellular into Điđa's hand. Điđa looks at it and, for a second, doesn't know what to do with it. Then, almost unconsciously, he puts the phone to his ear. He listens. It is evident that he can hear an abundance of words and insults.)

ĐIĐA: This is the broad?

MARTIN: Yes, she is, my friend...

ĐIĐA: Does she ever shut up? At least when she sleeps?

MARTIN: She doesn’t talk only when she’s really high. She snores when she sleeps.  

ĐIĐA: Snores! Come on...

MARTIN: She snores as if she has tuberculosis! She’s thirty-eight my friend. An old maid...  

(Điđa returns the cellular to Martin.)

MARTIN: You didn’t say anything.

ĐIĐA: What can I say...

MARTIN: (Takes the phone from Điđa.) You mean, when... (To Mina, on the phone.) Take a breath, you stupid cow! Well come up, come up finally... Would you like me to fucking carry you up... Fuck you! (Hangs up.) Man, she can really annoy...

(Another pause, a short one.)

ĐIĐA: I think you should go now.

MARTIN: Well, I cannot.

ĐIĐA: What do you mean?

MARTIN: Well. I cannot unless... Unless...

ĐIĐA: Unless, what!

MARTIN: Man, why did you have to pick this place. Why did you have to pick this building and this part of the ledge...

ĐIĐA: I don’t understand. What do you care where I... This doesn’t make any sense. This discussion doesn’t make any sense. Please, go. Go away!

MARTIN: Martin...

ĐIĐA: Who’s Martin?


ĐIĐA: What?

MARTIN: My name is Martin. You should say “Go away Martin”.

ĐIĐA: You think it’s appropriate to introduce yourself right now?

MARTIN: No. I like when people know my name, especially when they don’t want me in their company.

ĐIĐA: Right, that’s all I need right now. A lesson in psychoanalysis.

MARTIN: (Shouts) I hate it when people, who don’t know my name, make me go away.

ĐIĐA: OK. Martin, get lost!

MARTIN: You know my name. I don’t know yours.

ĐIĐA: For God’s sake, why is that important?

MARTIN: It is to me!


ĐIĐA: It’s Điđa.

MARTIN: You’re not from the neighborhood? Of course not. Such fools as you are rare here, thank God. I live here.

ĐIĐA: On the roof...

MARTIN: No, not on the roof...

ĐIĐA: So, what the hell is it with you about this part of the ledge. It’s like you own it. What is so important about it...?

MARTIN: You’re just like a cop. You keep asking things and you do not look like a man who’s going to kill himself.

ĐIĐA: Of course... Katarina sent you over. You’re her new... If you don’t disappear before I count to ten, I swear, I’ll jump.

MARTIN: I told you already that I don’t know a Katarina. And since you’re freezing here, it means that you’ve been waiting for her quite some time.  

ĐIĐA: Tell me, what I should do to make you disappear...

MARTIN: Martin...

ĐIĐA: Martin! What should I do, Martin!

MARTIN: To move away for a second, so I can take something.

ĐIĐA: To move from where?

MARTIN: Somebody in your family must have been a cop, after all.

(Điđa bends and starts feeling the ledge where he’s standing.)

MARTIN: Hey, what are you doing?!

(Martin wants to come closer, but Điđa points a knife at him. Martin stops. Điđa finds a plastic bag with heroin under one of the bricks.)

ĐIĐA: Look, what have we got here...

MARTIN: Be careful with it. It’s...

ĐIĐA: So I see. It’s heroin.

MARTIN: And a good one, too. Please, be careful.

ĐIĐA: Man, you are so fucked. You’re all so fucked...

MARTIN: Who’s fucked?

ĐIĐA: You who stayed here.

MARTIN: What are you raving about? Who’s we who stayed here...

ĐIĐA: Shits with no balls.  

MARTIN: I see you have them.

ĐIĐA: I do.

MARTIN: So I see...

ĐIĐA: You know I’ll jump, don’t you?!

MARTIN: Don’t jump with the heroin! Are you insane!

(Điđa bends down in a strong convulsion. He wants to cry, but there are no tears. His knife is still pointed at Martin.)

MARTIN: Hey, man, take it easy.

ĐIĐA: Leave me alone.

MARTIN: Give me the bag and I’ll leave. I will, I swear.

ĐIĐA: People like you are responsible for Steva’s death.

MARTIN: Who’s Steva... Please, give me the heroin!

ĐIĐA: You should all be executed.

MARTIN: What the hell for?

ĐIĐA: Steva was killed by the people like you.

MARTIN: I never killed anybody...

ĐIĐA: Drug dealers!

MARTIN: No, man, I’m using, I’m not dealing.

ĐIĐA: I swear that this (He holds up the bag with heroin) will fly with me...

MARTIN: I’m not a dealer, I promise...

ĐIĐA: This is enough for a battalion...

MARTIN: A battalion, that’s not enough to get high three times for us...

ĐIĐA: I told you not to come near.

MARTIN: Give me that!

ĐIĐA: I’m warning you!

(Martin comes closer, Điđa stands up, swings the knife and cuts Martin’s finger.)

MARTIN: Fuck, fuck!!! Shit! You’re crazy!

(Another pause. Điđa is shocked. Martin takes paper tissues from his pocket and puts them on his finger. Both men are visibly upset.)

MARTIN: Is that knife clean...? Shit it is! God knows whom you cut with it. Shit, I’ve been careful for twenty years and now I’m going to get AIDS by the knife... You’re definitely homicidal, not suicidal!

(Điđa squats. Adrenalin did his part. Martin is calm now; it’s only a scratch not a wound.)

MARTIN: I already said that, right? I’m repeating things, I must be in shock...

ĐIĐA: Steva was my younger brother. We both were trying to get a visa. I did, he didn’t. I went to Czech Republic and he went to Bosnia. My mother told me that he came from the war all messed up. They found him on a terrace like this, all stiff and cold.

MARTIN: Please, let me see the knife…

ĐIĐA: I wish we never came back…

MARTIN: Are there traces of other people’s blood on it? Did you keep it well? Let me see.

ĐIĐA: Listen, don’t make me swing this knife again!

MARTIN: What am I to do! What! Điđa, I’m not a dealer, I swear. I get high and mind my own business. I don’t give a shit about wars, politics or anything else.

ĐIĐA: Except for heroin.

MARTIN: Well, it goes with the territory. I’m an addict! I am in crisis.

(Short pause.)

MARTIN: And I’m also afraid of that knife...

ĐIĐA: You’re killing yourself.

MARTIN: That doesn’t sound right, coming from you...

(After briefly looking at each other, they both smile. This is enough for the change of atmosphere.)

MARTIN: So, you went abroad, and then you ended up here. Only the fools buy return tickets anyway.

ĐIĐA: You have no idea how it’s like, there...

MARTIN: You have no idea.  

ĐIĐA: Regardless, I envy you for surviving in here.

MARTIN: „Everyone imagines paradise is in a certain place, while at the same time somebody else’s hell is in that place. „                       

ĐIĐA: I see you read Moravia.

MARTIN: We used to read a lot.

ĐIĐA: What did you study?

MARTIN: Yugoslav literature.

ĐIĐA: When?

MARTIN: You’re asking questions again? I graduated in 1991.

ĐIĐA: So, you too were born in ’67, weren’t you?

MARTIN: How can you tell?

ĐIĐA: I studied physics, graduated same year.

MARTIN: You were a nerd, weren’t you?

ĐIĐA: It can’t be that they let drug addicts teach children.

MARTIN: No, they let psychopaths teach, not drug addicts.

ĐIĐA: So, how did you support your addiction all these years?  

MARTIN: I rent my late parents’ apartment and… get by. Fuck, you should get dressed, you’re freezing…

ĐIĐA: You have a problem with my being naked?

MARTIN: Well, I don’t appreciate the sight, if that’s what you’re asking.

ĐIĐA: This is the real me. They made me naked. They stripped me of everything, including my soul. If I was only a fart here, I became nothing but a piece of shit there!

MARTIN: So, because you didn’t appreciate the solid state, you decided to evaporate… Together with my stuff… Give it back to me; let me get high at least once.

ĐIĐA: My suicide will mean something, at least to you.

MARTIN: Fuck you, you narcissist...

ĐIĐA: It will mean something to you, won’t it?

MARTIN: I told you to stop asking stupid questions...

ĐIĐA: Several times already. Why? Are you phobic?

MARTIN: You would be too, if the cops handcuffed you to the radiator and asked you hundreds of idiotic questions all night...

ĐIĐA: I don’t believe this. From the moment I came back, I listen to different laments... Don’t you get bored with feeling sorry for yourselves?

MARTIN: Hurt kidneys – twice, broken ribs – once, two teeth broken – three times; I lack six teeth in my mouth, in total. False teeth rattle like castanets in the mouth.

ĐIĐA: I take it, you were a dissident.

MARTIN: Well done. Cops’ logics... Drug-addict, I am a drug-addict! This is like being outside of politics.

ĐIĐA: Independent intellectual...

MARTIN: I can tell you, when I get picked in the raid, regardless of the reason, they beat me as if I were from Otpor[1]

ĐIĐA: You think that Czech police don’t beat, don’t you?

MARTIN: I doubt they dare to.

ĐIĐA: I saw this fantastic play in Prague, several years ago. A Hungarian theatre performed.

MARTIN: I don’t care. Give me the…

ĐIĐA: Listen up! I think that play made me change my mind and come back. In the beginning, a girl comes to the scene and starts blowing the clarinet. She blows it for five minutes, like Monica Lewinsky, and then she starts playing Ode to Joy.

MARTIN: So when the show is over, the broad picks up her miserable 500 Euro and continues the tour. Bull shit...

ĐIĐA: It was a metaphor...

MARTIN: I also saw that shit.  

ĐIĐA: Where?


ĐIĐA: So you think that this play is shit. You’ve got no idea...

MARTIN: You’re the one who has no idea!

(There is the sound of footsteps, coughing and the sound of the door.)

ĐIĐA: It’s...

MARTIN: Mina! I’ll recognize that cough everywhere. Now we’re in trouble...

MINA: Martin, you’re a dead man.

(Mina enters the scene. She is still a bit red in the face, from climbing stairs. She, who is not capable of easy climbing three floors, had to climb for 16 floors. Mina is a too old girl, at her 38th year, extremely slim. A drug-addict. When she sees the scene on the roof, she is amazed and speechless for a moment. Only for a moment.)

MINA: Fuck, I thought you are full of shit, but...

MARTIN: I told you, didn’t I...

MINA: I don’t believe this...

MARTIN: No, I couldn’t believe either...

MINA: That’s him... Wait, is he holding our...?

MARTIN: Uh-huh.

MINA: How did he get it...?

MARTIN: He found it.

MINA: You told him about the stash. You moron...

MARTIN: It doesn’t matter now...

MINA: You’re good for nothing, you limp shit...

MARTIN: Stop it. Listen...

MINA: I won’t stop. Why didn’t you tell him to stop? I guarantee you suck up to him...

MARTIN: What should I do? Insult him while he’s holding our stuff?  

MINA: So what’s he going to do? Jump with it?

MARTIN: He decided to make us quit, cure us, in order not to end up like his Steva.

MINA: Steva, who? What are you talking about...

MARTIN: Long story...

MINA: You want to kill yourself when holding my heroin, you moron! I wish you end up on the street light!

MARTIN: Hey, take it easy, the situation is complex.  

MINA: You are such a bad luck Martin. This shit can happen only to you, you loser! (She starts to cough, strongly and very unhealthy.) Oh, my God, I lost my breath... Didn’t I tell you to hide the heroin in a building with a working elevator...?

MARTIN: How was I to know that the other one is going to be out of order...?

MINA: (To Điđa) You had to pick this one, out of so many buildings in Belgrade. I hope you jump straight into the septic tank!

ĐIĐA: Wait, both elevators are really out of order?

MINA: Of course they are not! It is just that I want to lose some weight, actually reach the stage of not being able to maintain my bodily temperature... You idiot!

ĐIĐA: How come, they were working this morning?

MARTIN: Hold on! What do you care if the elevators are working?

MINA: He’s afraid that he won’t be successful in the first try and he doesn’t want to go on foot for a rerun...

MARTIN: No, no, he has a different problem...

ĐIĐA: Eat shit...

MARTIN: You are faking this thing Điđa. Are you?

MINA: Faking! If not...

MARTIN: Yes, he is... He told his girlfriend he’s going to kill himself. He told her where and now he’s waiting for her to come and talk him out of it...

ĐIĐA: I told you to shut up!

MINA: Shame on you. Is this the best you can do? Trying to get some pity sex by faking suicide, you stupid...

MARTIN: And I fell for the story...

ĐIĐA: Don’t come near!

MINA: I wouldn’t come near to such a lowlife, if I didn’t have to, you hairy, pimply, crazy... Hairy-ass monster!!!

MARTIN: Hey, take it...

MINA: Psychopath! Idiot! Imbecile!!!


MINA: Now I’ll twist his balls, I’ll twist them so strong...

(Martin and Mina approach Điđa. He sees that he’s “busted” and then he uses the only argument left, throwing the heroin down.)

ĐIĐA: This can fly without me. Make one step more and I’ll throw it down! I’m dead serious!

MINA: You’re dead anyway.

ĐIĐA: Martine, tell this sick bitch that I’m serious...

MINA: Who’s the bitch!

MARTIN: Mina, stop it!

MINA: No way!

MARTIN: He’ll throw it down, and then...

MINA: Let him dare. He’s going to fly right after the bag.

MARTIN: He’s got a knife. Look, he cut me.

MINA: Cut! Where? Let me see. Well he is a... (To Điđa) You, idiot, are dangerous not suicidal.

ĐIĐA: Now you’re boring me...

MARTIN: I told him that two times already...

MINA: How deep is it? Did you see the knife? Is it clean? God knows whose throat he slit with it...

ĐIĐA: You keep repeating yourselves...

MARTIN: We do, actually... Mina, everything is OK.

MINA: What’s OK? What’s OK? Martin, I need to get high, or else I’m...

MARTIN: Me too... (To Điđa) Do you hear, you stubborn shit? We are both out of our minds. Give it to us. We need it!

ĐIĐA: OK. But only on one condition.


ĐIĐA: To call her and tell her...

MARTIN: Who?! Katarina?

MINA: Who is Katarina, who is she, what are you hiding from me, how do you know her...?

MARTIN: Don’t ask so many questions at once. You know that you aggravate me when...

MINA: My legs are stiff, my jaw is hurting, I’ll explode because I didn’t get high since morning and I don’t give a shit about your aggravations! Make the call, so we can get the shit...

MARTIN: I’ve got no credit left. Give me your cell phone.

MINA: You used all my credit when you described the situation. If you had been more explicit, maybe I would have some more credit.

MARTIN: I paid 200 dinars only yesterday. You really have no limits about the cell... Now you’re going to go down and pay...

MINA: You think I can climb down and then up for 16 floors to get this naked freak a telephone credit, no way... I wouldn’t have the strength to fly down...

MARTIN: Neither do I!

MINA: Oh, my God, what did I do to deserve...

MARTIN: (To Điđa) You don’t have a mobile?

ĐIĐA: I do.            

MARTIN: So, why are you fucking us around?

ĐIĐA: She won’t answer when she sees it’s me.

MINA: Some girlfriend.

ĐIĐA: Wife. She is my wife.

MINA: Martine, select the option when she doesn’t get the caller identification...

ĐIĐA: I already tried. She knows it’s me.

MINA: Come on people... Please, do something; I need a shot right now. I really need it. I can’t wait a minute longer.

MARTIN: Điđa, I’m coming to get the heroin...

ĐIĐA: You won’t get it unless you get me a cell phone!

MARTIN: Kill me... or jump... do what ever you want, but I need to get....

ĐIĐA: I’ll throw it down. Don’t make me...

MARTIN: You do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do...

MINA: Martin, be careful, Martin.

ĐIĐA: Don’t come near!

MINA: Martin!!!

(Điđa swings his knife. Martin escapes the blade, but he falls down. Mina jumps on Điđa’s back, he tries to pull her off. His knife falls down. Martin takes the knife and stands up. Điđa, in his last attempt to fight, throws the heroin across the ledge.)

MARTIN: He threw it away! I don’t believe this...

ĐIĐA: Take her off!

MINA: I’ll kill him!

MARTIN: Mina, he threw the heroin!

MINA: Stab him!

ĐIĐA: Martin, bring her to her senses!

MINA: Give me the knife, I’ll do it if you won’t!

MARTIN: Mina, stop it!!!

MINA: Kill the son of a bitch!!!

MARTIN: Stop it, stop it, stop it!!!

(Martin throws the knife. Mina loses her strength. Điđa is on the ground.)

ĐIĐA: Why didn’t you stab me? Why, why...?

MARTIN: Fuck you...

MINA: We need to go down. Maybe we even find it. We’ll find it.  

MARTIN: Cut the crap... The wind...

MINA: We have to try!

MARTIN: Try what? What can we do...

MINA: Help me stand up. We need to go down...

ĐIĐA: Listen, people, I didn’t mean...

MARTIN: You are such a shit.

ĐIĐA: I’m sorry...

(Mina approaches Điđa and strongly squeezes his scrotum.)

ĐIĐA: Don’t!

MINA: I should tie them into a knot!

MARTIN: Come, Mina, leave him be...

(Mina releases Điđa.)

MINA: These are the smallest balls I’ve ever touched!

(Martin and Mina slowly move to the exit. Mina is exhausted, but Martin helps her walk straight. They are out. Điđa has a painful expression on his face. He stands up, takes the cell phone, and dials. There’s no answer. Katarina enters from the other side of the roof. Điđa doesn’t see her.)

KATARINA: I switched it off. Just for your information.

ĐIĐA: Katarina! You came... And him?

KATARINA: He doesn’t know I’m here. You had to throw it down.

ĐIĐA: Throw what?

KATARINA: Heroin. You’re really unbelievably selfish...

ĐIĐA: Selfish, me?! You’re the one catching another ride, before I even… Wait a second. How do you know about the heroin?

KATARINA: I’ve been standing here for two hours, watching you pretend.

ĐIĐA: You were standing there, while they... Why didn’t you…

KATARINA: While I was watching you stand there, I was hoping you’d jump.

ĐIĐA: Kaća, I...

KATARINA: (She shows at Điđa’s testicles) Hurts, huh?

ĐIĐA: She really…

KATARINA: She was too gentle. You shouldn’t have brought us back here.

ĐIĐA: We can go again...

KATARINA: How can we? I’m not 25 any more. I’m 38 and I cannot start all over again. This is also my hometown, you pathetic fool. You and your Belgrade and your fucking feeling homesick... Here you are, take a good look from here!

ĐIĐA: I’ll borrow some money, for the first month. I’ll go to the constructions again. You and Milica will...

KATARINA: Milica is not…

ĐIĐA: I thought she belongs here.

KATARINA: If she belongs here, why mention Prague again. She’s used to school, grandma, grandpa…

ĐIĐA: And new Dad… Is she used to her new Dad?

KATARINA: She’ll get used to him eventually!

ĐIĐA: Just tell me, what should I do!

KATARINA: Kill yourself, you cunt. Thirteen years of hard work, thirteen best years of my life spent tending bars, servicing, stripping in front of drunken men; they tucked money into my underwear, touched me and masturbated at me!!! What the fuck for?! What do I have now?

ĐIĐA: They said it was a safe investment.

KATARINA: You shouldn’t have gambled with our money behind my back.

ĐIĐA: Nobody could have expected such a thing.

KATARINA: Everything is possible in this country. You really picked the time to become a stock broker. You ruined our future Điđa, to Milica and me. It was our money!

ĐIĐA: I’ll kill myself, I will, I swear.

KATARINA: Do what you want, I’m going home.

(Katarina starts going towards the exit doors. Điđa wants to hold and kiss her.)

ĐIĐA: I love you.

KATARINA: Let go of me! Do you hear, let go!

(Điđa holds Katarina, she fights. Điđa wants to kiss her. They fall down. Điđa is kissing her, she fights, but her strength is decreasing, she doesn’t have the will to fight. At the same time, Voja’s voice can be heard from the door. Voja is a 38 year old, fat, drunk man with neglected appearance.)

ĐIĐA: I love you!

VOJA: (off) Fucking drug addicts, you fucked my antenna in the middle of a game. You think you can escape. You think you can fuck Voja.

KATARINA: Let go! Someone is coming!

MARTIN: (off) Man, I didn’t mean to...

(Voja enters, he pulls Martin by the hair and carries half-conscious Mina under his arm. Martin’s nose is bleeding.)

VOJA: You think you can do this shit on my building, you and this unconscious one. I bet one in two, if Chelsea scored and I didn’t see it, you’re dead.

MARTIN: Why don’t you have cable, like everyone else?

(Voja pushes Martin hard, and he bumps his head on the wall.)

VOJA: What do you give a shit how I like to watch my TV, you stunned shit?

(Voja sees Katarina and Điđa.)

VOJA: What is this? Ones are using drugs; the others are fucking on my roof! You scum!

(Điđa is surprised, he stands up, Katarina is scared.)

VOJA: You are not being polite, you should offer some to your fellow man. Look at his balls, they are swelled...

MARTIN: Man, you broke my scull.

(Voja doesn’t answer, instead he hits Martin in stomach. Martin is breathless.)

VOJA: Oh I’m sorry. Listen, I want my antenna back on its place, or else you are minced meat. Is it clear?!

MARTIN: (Fighting for breath.) Clear!

VOJA: When you fix it, you go and take this skeleton with you. (He points to Katarina) This is what I call a fox! This will be a pleasure...

KATARINA: Get away from me, you redneck.

(Voja approaches Katarina and twists her arm.)

VOJA: Shut your mouth, slut. You fuck on the roof, not me. Who’s the redneck now? (To Điđa.) How much is the blow job and how much is to fuck?

ĐIĐA: Let her go, it’s my wife, you idiot!

MARTIN: So that’s Katarina...

VOJA: You, druggy, stop the shit and fix the antenna before I throw you off the roof.

ĐIĐA: Leave her alone!

(Điđa wants to defend Katarina, Voja hits him hard and he falls next to the knife.)

KATARINA: Let me go, you idiot.

VOJA: You like to fuck your husband in the open. Action, exhibition, huh? You see, I’m nuts about crazy ladies...

(Katarina sees Điđa taking the knife. Voja doesn’t see it, because his back is turned to Điđa.)

KATARINA: Wait, don’t be rough. I don’t like it rough.

VOJA: That’s my character...

KATARINA: You can have me the way you’ll never forget, only if you’re gentle.

VOJA: (Faces Điđa.) Hey man, this lady of yours is really fucked.

(Điđa hides the knife behind his back. Voja doesn’t see it.)

VOJA: Is she a nympho? It’s not easy for you, your own wife making you do it in the open. My God, your balls are huge...

KATARINA: Look at me. Pretend he’s not there.

VOJA: What did you do to him when his balls are this big... Should I knock him out, it’s not OK to fuck you in front of your husband.

KATARINA: He likes to watch.

VOJA: You both are crazy. I don’t give a shit then, if it’s all right with you, then it’s all right with me.

KATARINA: This is your lucky day.

VOJA: Yours too.

(Katarina starts stripping. She has the experience in it. Voja cannot take his eyes off from her. Điđa is behind his back. Martin is staring.)

VOJA: You, druggy, look at the antenna. Don’t make me come there.


VOJA: You’re a pro, bitch! Wait, stop it!

KATARINA: What is it baldy, are you scared...

VOJA: Me, no way. But striptease without the music... (He takes the cell phone and makes a call.) Hello, Marija, put the speakers on the window and play the trumpets. I found the problem, but I cannot fix it without the music. Listen, do what I told you, don’t make me go down! (He hangs up. Then, Voja speaks to Katarina.) I’ve arranged for the music...

KATARINA: If I may choose...

VOJA: You may not! Continue with the show.

(Suddenly, there is brass music. Unbearably loud.)

VOJA: Yes!

(Katarina continues with the striptease act. Voja watches her intensely. Điđa stands up, holds a knife, hesitates. Voja approaches Katarina, touches her. Điđa is still hesitant. He never killed before. Voja starts having sex with Katarina. Điđa doesn’t know what to do. Voja is already inside Katarina. Điđa finally decided. He stabs Voja, several times in the neck and back. Martin runs toward Mina, still half-conscious. He carries Mina away. Katarina pushes bleeding Voja from her. She takes her clothes and runs away. Điđa is left alone. He drops the knife, goes toward the ledge, climbs it and jumps down.)

(Dark. Brass music is even louder.)


Synopsis: Mina, Katarina, Martin, Điđa and Voja as teenagers. Smiling. Recognizable ‘80s in ex-Yugoslavia. Many nice photos holidays, university, sea, mountains; every photo is happy and careless. As if from some other life. Only the music is from this life. Brass music is unbearably loud.



(It’s late afternoon. Early in the fall. Apartment in one of the buildings in Novi Beograd. Spacious room, discreet furniture. Two chairs, sofa, coffee table, large mirror. Bar is placed next to the window. Sound of shower is coming from the bathroom. Milan, a handsome 32 year old man dressed only in expensive underwear, is in a dilemma which one out of three suits placed on the sofa to wear.)

MILAN: Majda! Is the shirt ready!

MAJDA: (From another room.) Coming.

MILAN: I didn’t have this problem when I had one suit for all occasions. Now, when I have twenty, I feel like going out in my underwear. I tell you, uniform is best…

(Majda comes in. She is pretty 32 year old. She holds freshly ironed shirt.)

MAJDA: I asked you not to change clothes in here, Sasa’ll see you.

MILAN: He saw me undressed long before you did.

MAJDA: You’re out of …

MILAN: He’s in the shower. What, you think he let the water run and he’s listening in on us from the corridor?

MAJDA: (Gives the shirt to Milan.) Hurry up!

(Majda goes to the bar and pours herself some scotch.)

MILAN: You are paranoid. I’ll go out of my mind this way. He’s been here for two days now. You are being quiet, drinking gallons of scotch and still you won’t let me tell him. Do you see what he’s doing to us?

MAJDA: To us?

MILAN: Majda, I’m sure he knows. And he enjoys watching us…

MAJDA: Please, put your clothes on.

(Pause. Majda and Milan look at each other for a long time. Their expressions are cold. Milan takes the suits.)

MILAN: Which one should I wear?

MAJDA: I don’t care. Just dress already.

MILAN: One shouldn’t wear just about anything for the picket line.

(Suddenly, loud music starts from outside – trumpets. Milan approaches the window.)

MILAN: (Shouts through the window.) Keep it down! (Closes the window.) Why the hell did I accept apartment in Novi Beograd.

MAJDA: Dress already, you moron!

MILAN: I could have waited for a while. I would’ve certainly got an apartment downtown.

MAJDA: But I couldn’t wait. Is that what you’re trying to say? Put your clothes on!

MILAN: (Takes one of the suits and approaches Majda. He is being cynical.) I believe that the black one shall do. It goes well with the situation…

MAJDA: You’re such a jerk.

MILAN: OK, I’m dressing…

MAJDA: Did you take all your stuff from my room? You didn’t forget anything, did you?

MILAN: Like what?

MAJDA: Like condoms, for instance. I don’t know where you keep them.

MILAN: I have no secrets to you.

(Majda smiles ironically and drinks up. Milan starts putting on clothes at last. Majda goes to the bar and pours another drink.)

MILAN: Majda, I know you’re a bit nervous about Sasa’s return, but don’t you think you are exaggerating?

MAJDA:  A bit nervous!? What an understatement… Such a fucking euphemism!

MILAN: We’ll have to tell him eventually.

MAJDA: Maybe we won’t have to.

MILAN: Meaning?

MAJDA: Just what I said. Maybe we won’t have to tell him, maybe I won’t live in your apartment any more, maybe I won’t keep the job you found me and maybe I’ll stop fucking you…

MILAN: Wait a minute. What are you saying all of a sudden?

MAJDA: It’s not sudden. When Sasa phoned he’s coming back I thought I had time to think things through and…


MAJDA: Seems there wasn’t enough time.

MILAN: Majda, we talked about this.

MAJDA: I know we talked.

MILAN: I still think you should tell him as soon as possible.

MAJDA: Did you see the state he’s in?

MILAN: It’s either that, or we lie to him.

MAJDA: We lied so far.

MILAN: And you’re positive he has no idea? Where’s my tie?

(Majda gives him an angry look and goes toward the room.)

MAJDA: We were together, Sasa and I, for seven years.

MILAN: Seems you’re counting the last two…

MAJDA: (From the room. Shouts.) I am.

MILAN: Bring the light blue one, goes well with black suit…

(Milan’s cell starts ringing. He sees the caller identification and starts talking quietly, so Majda would not hear.)

MILAN: Ritchie, where are you man… I told you, a hooker not a fucking PhD in nuclear physics… Is she any good?... Really?... I know her. I know, she’s great. When will you be here?…I won’t… I need to go to the Ministry. Nothing much, taxi drivers…did not get licensed… on strike again… fuck them… What do you care what we’re going to do? Focus on this… Now, not later. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just bring her over… Improvise…

(Majda comes in, tie in her hand. Milan starts talking in normal voice.)

MILAN: Don’t worry. Majda will be here… Yes, Sasha too. OK. See you later. Yes, Majda knows… I have to hang up now.

(Majda angrily throws Milan’s tie on the sofa.)

MAJDA: What does Majda know?

MILAN: You know that Ritchie and his girlfriend are coming for the night…

MAJDA: Aspirin comes again, this time with girlfriend for a change. He really picked the time…

MILAN: Aspirin? I guess it’s his new nickname?

MAJDA: He calls me “Pepper”!

MILAN: Pepper! (Laughs.) Why Aspirin?

MAJDA: Because he’s inevitable every weekend, before and after breakfast, lunch and dinner…Want it or not… He became a strong dose.

MILAN: You sound like you went to medical not the music school.

MAJDA: Where does he live anyway? Zajecar or Belgrade? Why don’t you ask him to move here with us, so I know where we stand?

MILAN: Him, too. It’s not a bad idea. He could keep Sasha’s company.

MAJDA: Bullshit…

MILAN: What would you like me to do? Have him sleep in a hotel whenever he comes to Belgrade on business? Why do you hate him so much?


MILAN: (Shows his tie knot to Majda.) This looks ok, huh?...

MAJDA: You look like a plain clothes cop.

MILAN: Well I am a cop, not a model.

MAJDA: You would really tell him?

MILAN: Sasha was my friend.

MAJDA: Was? Not - is?

MILAN: Because you and I decided so. I could heave written a letter saying…

MAJDA: Come on. He was in fights…

MILAN: It was not our responsibility! Why the hell did he go to Iraq? As if he didn’t have the same shit here… He was struggling to go to the States and when he finally did, he became a marine! He’s so fucking stupid, he should be in the Guinness Book of Idiots!

MAJDA: He went to Iraq to get me a green card!

MILAN: So, did he? He fucked up your brains and mine too.

MAJDA: It’s called responsibility. You wouldn’t understand…

MILAN: I don’t understand responsibility! I don’t! So tell me, where are we now? In Chicago or in Novi Beograd, huh? We’re in good old Milan’s place, my dear. We are all in Milan’s place, in apartment of 120 m2. Sasha is here as well and he shouldn’t be!

(Majda sits on the sofa.)

MAJDA: I have a headache. Give me a drink.

MILAN: You’ll get drunk.

MAJDA: So what?

(Milan takes a bottle of scotch and sits down next to Majda. He pours her a drink, puts away the bottle and starts massaging her temples.)

MILAN: You’re so tense. Relax.

MAJDA: I can’t.

MILAN: You were drunk, our first night. Remember.

MAJDA: I remember everything…

(Milan hugs Majda gently. She seems to like it. Sound of shower stops. Instantly, Majda pushes Milan away.)

MAJDA: Stop it. He will come out and see us.

MILAN: Fuck you. Fuck…

(Milan stands up, pours one scotch to himself and drinks up in a gulp. His cell phone rings and he answers.)

MILAN: (On the phone.) Ok, I’m coming down. (To Majda) My drive is here. I have to go. Ritchie’ll be here soon. I’ll come back as soon as I can. (As he leaves the room, he stops by the door.) In case you get drunk again tonight, please throw up on Sasha’s bed, not on mine. We don’t want him to think you’re confusing the beds…

MAJDA: You cynical peace of shit…

(Milan exists. Majda throws a glass after him. The glass shatters. Majda stands up, goes to the window, pours scotch into the new glass, takes one sip and looks through the window. There is no sound of running water from the bathroom. Sasha enters. He is wearing a bathrobe. Majda sees him.)

MAJDA: Finished already? Was there enough hot water?


MAJDA: Milan’s bathrobe is too short for you. I’ll buy you another one.

(Unpleasant silence. Sasha towels his hair.)

MAJDA: Ritchie is coming tonight. He’ll stay for the night.

SASHA: Ritchie. Luckily I haven’t seen him for a long time.

MAJDA: You don’t have to see him now, if you don’t want to.

SASHA: And where is our host?

MAJDA: He was urgently called to the Ministry. Taxi drivers are on strike.

SASHA: Mr. Deputy Minister.

MAJDA: How about the two of us go out tonight?

SASHA: Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t feel like going out. (He goes to the bar and pours one scotch to himself.)

MAJDA: Sasha, you mustn’t drink, the medicines…

(Sasha drinks up, pours another shot and sits on the sofa. Majda stands up, approaches Sasha. She is touching his hair.)

MAJDA: It’s still wet. Do you want a dryer?

SASHA: No need.

(Sasha takes medicines from the bathrobe pocket and wants to take it with scotch.)

MAJDA: You really shouldn’t mix scotch and drugs! Here I’ll  not drink…

(Majda tries to take Milan’s glass, but does not succeed. She goes to the bar and leaves her glass.)

MAJDA: Are you sure you don’t want to go out.

SASHA: Yes. I’m sure.

MAJDA: I’m going to the room. Coming?

(Majda looks at Sasha. Sasha waves hand to indicate she should go without him. Majda goes to her room. Sasha takes his medicines with scotch, goes to the window, pours another drink, opens the window and looks out. One can hear trumpets. Ritche comes in. Ksenija is with him.)

RITCHIE: Wow, a party. (He sees glass splinters on the floor.) Broken glass too. Somebody was having fun here with trumpet music, huh Sale. (To Ksenija) Watch out doll, you don’t want to get injured. Go round, round… That a way, you clever thing… Fuck, Sasha you are really alive. Man… Those Arabs didn’t scalp you. Of course they didn’t, they are not Indians, they won’t touch us, the nonaligned… Let me give you a hug.

(Ritchie gives a hug to Sasha. Sasha acts not interested.)

RITCHIE: What’s the matter? We haven’t seen each other for two years. (He looks at his shoes.) Shit, my leather sole is fucked. Where did the glass come from? Was there a fight? Or, maybe you feel like celebrating something… A wedding could be in order. You’re thirty-two, a perfect time to give your input to survival of the species… So you drink and don’t offer to your fellow man. Wow, I’m so thirsty. (He pours a drink to himself and speaks to Ksenija.) Ksenija darling, you wouldn’t say no to a drink as far as I can tell. Here, uncle Ritchie will give you some. Move away from that glass. What the hell are you standing by the door for? These new generations… They are so irresponsible to leather soled shoes… (He gives the glass to Ksenija and wants to make a toast, but nobody raises their glass.) So, cheers…

SASHA: You don’t use the doorbell here?

RITCHIE: Doorbell… I have a key. You want me to make you a copy?

(Sasha shrugs. Ritchie drinks up.)

RITCHIE: Good firewater. Makes one want a snack. Is there any food?

SASHA: I don’t know. Look in the kitchen. I guess you know where it is.

RITCHIE: Sure I do… Listen, the music is ok, but let’s not overdo it. I mean, you do want to hear the doorbell…

(Ritchie closes the window and goes to the kitchen. Ksenija puts down a little suitcase next to the chair, approaches Sasha, she wants to touch glasses with him, but Ritchie stops her by looking in from the kitchen.)

RITCHIE: I almost forgot. Where are my manners? This is Ksenija, this is Sasha, introduce and kiss and so on… Sasha, may I take some ham from the fridge?

SASHA: Go ahead. Milan’s fridge is your fridge.

(Ritchie goes out, but only for a second. Ksenija opens her mouth to say something, but Ritchie interrupts again. Ksenija finally drinks up her scotch.)

RITCHIE: Do you want a sandwich too? The ham is superb. I’ll splash some mayonnaise, ketchup, cheese and it’s perfect. What do you say?

KSENIJA: No, thanks.

RITCHIE: For God’s sake Ksenija, sit down, don’t stand there. There’s no glass in the chair. The rules are clear, aim for the head, not the ass… Sasha, pour a drink to the broad, be a gentleman. You really don’t want a sandwich. Ok, ok, I won’t insist.

(Ritche finally goes out. Ksenija is still standing. Sasha looks at her and shows the chair opposite to the one next to which she placed her suitcase. He takes Ksenija’s empty glass and goes to cabinet with drinks.)

SASHA: Scotch?

KSENIJA: Whatever.

(Ksenija sits on the sofa.)

SASHA: Ice? 

KSENIJA: Whatever.

(Sasha pours some scotch to Ksenija and himself. He goes towards the sofa, gives a glass to Ksenija and sits in the chair.)

SASHA: Here you are.

(There is a sound of breaking dishes from the kitchen.)

RITCHIE: (From kitchen.) What the hell! Who put these plates here? Shit…

(Sound of braking dishes goes on. Majda enters the room, goes to the drink cabinet, takes a bottle of scotch, sees it’s half empty, looks at the bottle again, looks at Sasha and Ksenija and pours a drink to herself.)

MAJDA: Ritchie, you moron! Stop it!

(Majda approaches the other chair. She sees Ksenija’s suitcase. She pushes it away with her foot and sits in the chair opposite to Ksenija. There is a sound of breaking dishes again.)

MAJDA: I don’t want to go to kitchen after he’s been there. (To Sasha.) Light me a cigarette, please.

(Sasha lights a cigarette and gives it to Majda. Majda wanted to thank him, but Ritche enters again. He has a big sandwich on the plate.)

RITCHIE: Pepper! Here you are! Hell, the way you put the plates… What can I do…

MAJDA: Stop making noise. And stop calling me Pepper!

RITCHIE: Well, you are a hot temper. Would you like a sandwich? Ham, cheese, ketchup… You have to eat. Look how thin you are. One has to be fit; it’s a creative precondition no. 1.

MAJDA: What for? For jingles and wasting time in studios? Very creative…

RITCHIE: But it brings home the bacon. (He brings his face close to Majda’s.) Marketing is the future! Let me see a smile! Just one little smile. (He shows the sandwich) Look how inviting this is. It whispers - eat me, eat me…

MAJDA: Watch it, or I’ll pour this scotch all over your face.

RITCHIE: Oh, no. Save it for Milan. (He realizes he made a mistake, looks at Sasha.) I mean, Sasha… The passion. I mean, love passion… (He is confused now.) I think, therefore I am…

KSENIJA: Ritchie, I would like to see our room, I’m tired.

RITCHIE: Straight to sack... I told you not to drink that much on the way. Hey, she was drinking all the way from Zajecar to Belgrade. And I see you two are drinking too. This was always a good watering hole. It goes with the territory… Let’s go Ksenija, let’s hit the sack… Wait a second. Majda did Sasha introduce you to Ksenija?

MAJDA: I had the honors only with her suitcase.

RITCHIE: Fuck, am I the only one with manners here? Sure, I’m a gentleman. Ksenija, you see you are being ignored. That’s because of excessive use of alcohol. Well, let’s broaden our horizons. Majda, meet Ksenija. Ksenija meet Majda. That’s it. Introduce, kiss and stuff… Ksenija and I are going to sleep here, as you already know. I hope you don’t mind?

SASHA: Even if we did, it’s Milan’s apartment.

MAJDA: Sasha!

RITCHIE: (To Sasha, jokingly.) I hate landlords too. (Laughs.)

MAJDA: (To Ritchie.) The lady is waiting to see the room!

RITCHIE: (To Ksenija.) Ah, yes, tired baby… Let’s go. Ah, the suitcase! How can we make do without the suitcase? A lot of money went into it. Let me show you the room and then get back to my nutrition. Man, I’m hungry.

(Ksenija picks up her suitcase and goes to guest room with Ritchie.)

MAJDA: You are really annoying with these comments about Milan’s crib. He’s not charging us anything…

SASHA: You mean – you.

MAJDA: How many times do I have to say? I was alone! You went away, Sasha! I don’t know how to be on my own!


MAJDA: Milan was your friend.


MAJDA: Let’s go to a hotel right now. Here, I’ll start looking for apartment tomorrow… Let’s go…

(Sasha looks at her, then finishes his drink.)

MAJDA: It’s your fault Sasha. You made me dependent on other people…

(Ritchie enters on his way to the kitchen.)

RITCHIE: Hey Pepper, why don’t you go to take a deserved afternoon nap? You know what the educational magazines say “enough sleep is very important for modern business woman”…

(Majda takes off her slipper and throws it at Ritchie. He disappears in the kitchen.)

MAJDA: I told you not to call me that! You’re so full of shit, you logorrheic monster!

(Majda gets up and goes to fetch her slipper, takes it from the floor, turns towards Sasha and goes to her room. Ritchie enters carrying a glass of milk.)

RITCHIE: Man, she almost got me. Her aiming is getting better. She’s full of energy! My new broad is half dead. She uses any opportunity she gets to nap. It makes sense because she drinks like a camel. Anything she can get her hands on. Do you remember the girl from the Fifth Grammar School? The one that got poisoned by alcohol on our prom night. If she had Ksenija’s stomach, she would have been still alive. I take lots of milk. Whenever I get drunk I drink milk… Would you like some? Ah, yes, you never drink milk, not even in your coffee… Fuck, I’m so tired I cannot speak. But, I can’t go to bed hungry. You have trouble sleeping too, huh? Adaptation and such… You should organize, get a job, forget about shit… Milan told me you spent two nights in the chair. You know, a job could help a lot. Like a therapy. Ask Milan, he can get you a job in a second. Here, you have experience with weapons. You don’t have to be a cop, ask him for something else. Security, bodyguard and such… If you don’t want to work with weapons, tell him to get you a job in the Ministry of Interior, you could be a clerk. See how he helped Majda? TV, marketing, good salary, bonuses, good gigs. You become somebody else instantly… Hey, would you like a sandwich after all?

(Sasha is still quiet. Ritchie sits on the sofa and starts eating.)

RITCHIE: Less for your ass, as my mother used to express herself poetically… I hear you didn’t tell your folks you came? You didn’t? Come on, Dusanovac is not on the other end of the world. I’ll give you a ride. They must be out of their minds worrying about you. They must be watching CNN each night for news.

(Another long pause.)

RITCHIE: What, you’re like pissed off with me? Say something. I’m being considerate. I brought this broad to your feet and you treat me like that. Ok, ok… Just for your information, Ksenija is really prime goods. Jugs, legs, ass… everything is under constant quality control. Man, she’s export material…

(Sasha stands up, goes to the cabinet with drinks, pours another scotch, goes back to the table and sits in chair opposite to Ritchie.)

SASHA: But, that’s your chick.

RITCHIE: Mine, yours… Ours. Ritchie is not a selfish man.

SASHA: How about Majda?

RITCHIE: Majda. Majda is going to sleep… Like a rose…

SASHA: Well, poet, I wouldn’t want to spoil your goods. Seems you paid for it fair and square.

RITCHIE: More like – overpaid.

SASHA: I can’t afford her.

RITCHIE: No way. You have no money…

SASHA: Precisely.

RITCHIE: No way. You’re telling me you’re broke, while these KFOR and UNPROFOR scum in Bosnia and Kosovo are filled with cash, you, who’s been in the desert, is broke. I don’t believe this. I don’t need money, I’m not asking for a loan… I have enough…

SASHA: I can see that.

RITCHIE: Why? You have a problem with that?


RITCHIE: I don’t believe you have no money. Milan mentioned something like this. What the hell did you do to get so swindled…? Uncle Sam doesn’t fuck with his troops. I know it for sure. It must be you did something wrong. You must’ve done something without covering your ass first. Let me tell you something. Next time you plan to go abroad, wherever that might be, never say you come from Serbia. Tell them you come from Croatia, or Bosnia, or better yet from Montenegro, that’ll work. Montenegrin… When I go abroad, I like to pretend I’m a Macedonian. I can’t say why…

SASHA: Say, how’s business in Macedonia.

RITCHIE: I don’t work with Macedonians. I work with Bulgarians. That’s why I live in that shit-hole of Zajecar… Bulgaria is West for us, although they’re east… Eastern West.

SASHA: So how do you get by as a Macedonian in Bulgaria?

RITCHE: Great, they claim that Macedonians do not exist and I agree. When I tell them that Samuel was Bulgarian, they are happy and I don’t give a shit about both, Samuel and Alexander the Great together… I’m very tolerant when history is concerned.

SASHA: Here you go, you’ve evolved all the way.

RITCHIE: You are asking too many questions about the business. Are you thinking about jumping aboard? I’m OK with that. Only, I don’t know what Milan would say. Last time you left him hanging in the middle of the job and went to the USA. We almost got caught.

SASHA: They were people.

RITCHIE: They were broads, you moron. Whores, goods, just like any other commodity. You only should have given them a ride to Mitrovica. That’s all.

SASHA: I guess you managed to find a driver for this commodity.

RITCHIE: Of course we did...


RITCHIE: I really don’t understand why Milan is keeping you in his apartment. He should’ve better put a bomb under his bed. But maybe you could smooth the situation after all. Maybe Majda could help.

SASHA: You think Majda would do such a thing for us?

RITCHIE:  Majda would do everything for you two.

(Sasha approaches Ritchie and faces him. He deliberately turns Ritchie’s plate and sandwich ends up on the floor.)


RITCHIE: Fuck you...! You really went too far. I’m really hungry, you asshole... (He gathers what’s left of the sandwich from the floor.) I really don’t understand what you want from me? Are you fucking with me...? See what you did. You haven’t changed the least bit. Listen. You were trouble all your life. I succeeded, you didn’t. If you had listened to Milan you wouldn’t be in this pickle. 

SASHA: What do you mean?

RITCHIE: You know what I mean! You’re not dense. You’re only pretending you are.

(Majda enters the room. She is wearing an elegant black dress. She approaches the mirror and theatrically arranges her hair.) 

RITCHIE: Wow! I thought you were sleeping… Where to, my Little Red Riding Hood?

MAJDA: Well, since the wolves emigrated from this crib long time ago, I’m going out alone.

RITCHIE:  You’ll go all alone to dark wood?

(Majda approaches Ritchie. She leans on the chair and brings her face close to him.)

MAJDA: Will you come with me, you fearless hunter?

(Ritchie is confused. His eyes are on Majda’s breasts, right in front of him.)

MAJDA: What? Nothing to say…

RITCHIE: If Sasha doesn’t mind…

MAJDA: He doesn’t.


MAJDA: What?

SASHA: He’s asking about Milan.

RITCHIE: How do you know what I’m asking. Fuck, you started reading other people’s mind in Iraq. The man can read mind. Cut the bullshit. I don’t know how Majda puts up with you. (To Majda.) I don’t know how do you do it.

SASHA: Will you take Ksenija with you?

RITCHIE: Sure, I’m crazy about carrying her back.

SASHA: Carry her under one and Majda under other arm.

MAJDA: (Turns to Sasha.) Fuck you! (To Ritchie.) Let’s go.

(Majda exits. Ritchie follows her. He keeps talking while they exit. He could be heard even when they are outside.)

RITCHIE: Wait! Let me put on the jacket. Fuck, you really are pushy. Watch the glass, you don’t want to get crippled. Fine. So everybody gives you a cool treatment and then Ritchie is OK. Sure, since I have no character. Hey, tell me, are you wearing a wander bra? Your jugs look great. Your neck looks great. I mean, everything is where it should be… I’m full of shit, huh?

(Finally, there is silence. Sasha is nervous. He goes to the toilet. Ksenija comes out of the room. She looks around and when she saw there is nobody there, she goes to the bar. She is wearing a long T-shirt and white laced underwear. She pours a scotch and drinks up. She pours another shot. There is a sound of flushing from the toilet. Ksenija starts towards the room. Before she managed to go out, Sasha comes in. He’s closing his pants. He sees Ksenija. He is embarrassed. She is embarrassed too.)

SASHA: Excuse me, I...

KSENIJA: No, excuse me for being dressed like this.

SASHA: It’s OK. .

KSENIJA: There’s nothing to drink here.

SASHA: Here it is. Cheers. 

(Ksenija toasts. They both drink up.)

KSENIJA: Should I pour some more?

SASHA: I will. Take a seat.

(Ksenija sits in the chair. Sasha takes the bottle and sits on the sofa. Although his cigarette is still burning in the ashtray, he lights another one.)

KSENIJA: Are you nervous?

SASHA: No. Why?

KSENIJA: You have another cigarette already lit. 

(Sasha puts out the cigarette on the ashtray.)

KSENIJA: Ritchie says you were in a war.

SASHA: Yes I was.

KSENIJA: In Kosovo?


KSENIJA: In Bosnia?


KSENIJA: In Croatia?


KSENIJA: I’m not aware that there were any other wars…

SASHA: In Iraq.

KSENIJA: Iraq? How come?

SASHA: I won Green Card on the lottery two years ago. When I went there, it turned out that it wouldn’t be that easy to bring Majda over. Then a lawyer in Chicago gave me idea to join marines. Marines have various benefits. It seemed easy enough. On TV, that war looked like nothing, compared to shit that happened here.


SASHA: I don’t want to talk about this.

KSENIJA: Did you kill anyone?

SASHA: Are you always this straightforward? 

KSENIJA: No. But you...

SASHA: What?

KSENIJA: You make me relaxed.

SASHA: Strange.

KSENIJA: What’s strange?

SASHA: I had the same impression about you when I met you.

KSENIJA: Did you? People usually get nervous because of me.

SASHA: So you drink because...

KSENIJA: How about you?

SASHA: Let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about you for a minute.

KSENIJA: OK, if you give me a cigarette.

(Sasha lights Ksenija’s cigarette.)

KSENIJA: So, shoot. Should there be a lamp directed to my face?

SASHA: This is OK.

KSENIJA: First question.

SASHA: Why are you whoring?

KSENIJA: (She starts coughing, because of the smoke.) Well, this was quite straightforward.

SASHA: I can ask differently.

KSENIJA: No need. For money.

SASHA: Is there a sad story behind?

KSENIJA: No, not really. I’m just broke. 

SASHA: Your family? 

KSENIJA: They were laid off.

SASHA: Zaječar is a small town?

KSENIJA: I don’t work there. Ritchie is officially my boyfriend there.

SASHA: And he’s your pimp in Belgrade.

KSENIJA: Well, I’d rather say – business associate. I serve for persuasion.

SASHA: What should you persuade me into?

KSENIJA: Isn’t it obvious? 


KSENIJA: I told him you would see right through it, but he doesn’t listen to anybody because of the racket he makes. 

(Pause. Ksenija approaches Sasha, she takes the glass, pours another scotch. Sasha shows the seat next to him.)

SASHA: How much do you get to go to bed with me?

KSENIJA: Sufficient, for my standards.

SASHA: Ritchie is not easy on money, as far as I know.

KSENIJA: But Milan is.

SASHA: I don’t get this. Why are you telling me all these things?

KSENIJA: I don’t get it, either. I guess I’m just sick and tired.  

SASHA: But I thought you liked me.

KSENIJA: Strange. That’s the second thing we have in common.

SASHA: What would you like to do now?

KSENIJA: I don’t know.

SASHA: Call them. Signal them the way you agreed.

(Ksenija takes the telephone.)

KSENIJA: Do you really want me to make the call?

SASHA: Go right ahead.

(Ksenija dials and ends the call.)

SASHA: That’s it?


SASHA: You didn’t answer my question.

KSENIJA: What would I like to do...

(Ksenija looks at Sasha. They kiss. Passionately and sincerely.)

SASHA: I haven’t felt this way for a long time.


SASHA: Alive.

KSENIJA: What are you saying?

SASHA: You look young.

KSENIJA: With this much investment you would look the same. I’m thirty-two.

SASHA: One couldn’t tell.

KSENIJA: Was that supposed to be a compliment?

SASHA: It’s quite romantic, bearing in mind I’m an ex-marine.

(Another passionate kiss. It lasts for quite some time.)

KSENIJA: You look funny in this short bathrobe.

SASHA: Take it off.

(Ksenija slowly takes Sasha’s bathrobe off. He is nude. They still kiss. Sasha stops suddenly. He stands up.)

KSENIJA: What’s the matter? Some sort of war frustration?

SASHA: Something like that.

KSENIJA: I’m not used to talk to nude men.

SASHA:  Should I dress?

KSENIJA: You should tell me what’s wrong.

SASHA: I shot a kid in Baghdad, in the green zone. He looked like a suicide bomber, but actually, he was just a fat kid running after his dog. He approached suddenly… It turned out the kid was a son of a local politician Americans cared about. Although I did everything according to the rules of engagement, I had to be discharged. I was suitable for getting discharged. They didn’t pay me anything… took my Green Card and I almost ended up in prison.

KSENIJA: The story is pathetic.

SASHA: You have no problem with the fact that I killed a kid?

KSENIJA: After two abortions, I have no opinion about that.

SASHA: Really?

(Sasha approaches the window. He opens it.)

SASHA: You didn’t tell me how much are you being paid to get me out of Majda’s life?

KSENIJA: Five thousand Euros.

SASHA: It’s not much.

KSENIJA: I agree.

SASHA: But, somebody should make use of the money.

(Sasha suddenly climbs the window and jumps.)

KSENIJA: Fuck! Idiot!

(Ksenija is completely taken aback. She gets up and looks through the window and then closes it. She approaches the sofa and her hands are shaking. She takes the drink and swallows it in a single gulp. She sits on the sofa, folds her legs, puts her T-shirt over her knees.)


Synopsis: Milan, Sasha, Ritchie, Ksenija and Majda as teenagers. They are smiling. One can recognize the eighties. They are swimming in the pool. Good rhythm "Šarlo akrobata".



(Regular coffee shop in Novi Beograd situated on the ground floor of a residential building. There are no guests. Iva, a beautiful 25 year old, is behind the bar. Her clothes are in line with teenage trends, she looks younger than she is. One can hear the music „Šarlo akrobata“, new wave. Biksa, 25 year old, a bodyguard, enters the coffee shop. His clothes are similar to FBI clothes. Iva doesn’t react to Biksa’s presence. He is “sniffing” around as if checking for something. He approaches the stereo and turns it off.)

BIKSA: Whas this shit? Turn it off.

IVA: You mean – What is this...Is, you moron, an auxiliary verb.

BIKSA: OK. What is this music? Is it all right now?

IVA: If we disregard the fact that you turned the stereo off, while I was listening to it...

BIKSA: Gosh, you are so difficult...

IVA: Gosh...

(Iva turns the stereo on again. Biksa continues to “sniff” around the coffee shop.)

BIKSA: Turn it down at least, my heart is vibrating together with that bass-guitar.

IVA: Excuse me?

BIKSA: Turn it down!

(Iva continues to work behind the bar, pays no attention to Biksa’s request. Biksa is a bit annoyed with it. He approaches the bar and he wants to turn the stereo off, but Iva gives him a look.)

BIKSA: Let me turn it down!

(Iva waves her hand, Biksa turns down the volume.)

BIKSA: When did you start listening to this sort of music?

IVA: I’ve got no idea which band that is. My sister gave me the CD; she says they are cool again.

BIKSA: Again!? This hissing and jerking the bass guitar used to be in!?

IVA: The eighties.

BIKSA: The time before big Biksa was born.

IVA: Imagine this, your mom breastfeeds you and listens to this shit. It must have been really cool.

BIKSA: So what’s wrong with folk music and breastfeeding?

IVA: Well, fucking nothing...

(Iva is obviously upset. She is about to cry.)

BIKSA: Here we go again... The same thing. Since your sister got a baby, it’s the only thing on your mind... But you’re doing nothing about it. Dejan is not the only man around...

IVA: Stop the bullshit.  

BIKSA: Bullshit? Since he left you...

IVA: I told you to stop bullshitting!

BIKSA: The man bought this place for you. He provided for you. You don’t pay for protection.

IVA: Oh, really...

BIKSA: I know. I collect. And you are not paying. So, one can say that you really benefited from your intimate parts.

IVA: Shut up, idiot!

BIKSA: The flower needs a bee and a woman...

IVA: Tell me, who would dear think about, and let alone touch, Dejan’s ex-girlfriend?

BIKSA: You exaggerate. Dejan would be glad if you found a husband...

IVA: What do I need a husband for, to beat and fuck me for free? 

BIKSA: You never did anything for free...

IVA: A child needs a mother, and you, men are redundant.

BIKSA: Aren’t we emancipated...

IVA: No, really. Take my sister Kaća for instance. She lived in Prague, for years she stripped before men, but instead of making a life there, she came back here because of that husband of hers; who, by the way, lost all their money the moment they came to Belgrade by investing it into wrong shares. She also brought back her child, who could have got Czech citizenship.

BIKSA: Really stupid...

IVA: She and her husband... Now she has – dick!

BIKSA: You are so vulgar. It doesn’t suit you...

IVA: Irresponsible son of a bitch!  

BIKSA: Did she leave him?

IVA: I guess she did. I’m not sure.

BIKSA: She either did or didn’t?

IVA: What’s that to you?

BIKSA: I saw her strip once. She’s really good looking...

IVA: She’s old enough to be your mother.

BIKSA: No way. My mother has a mustache, and her tits are dragging on the ground...

IVA: Kaća is 38, and you are 25, just like me.


IVA: So?!

BIKSA: She couldn’t have given birth at thirteen...

IVA: Moron.

(There is a sound of a jeep parking outside. When the motor stops running, there is a certain high sound. Biksa is alert and quickly continues to check the coffee shop.)

BIKSA: Fuck, here he is.

IVA: So I hear, this is his music. I wonder why he drives Cherokee now.

BIKSA: It’s his only armored car.  

IVA: Armored!?

BIKSA: He’s here, and I didn’t check the premises.

IVA: What’s this shit. Armored car, checking the premises!  

BIKSA: You have no idea how small the bombs can be, smaller than droppings.

IVA: Smaller than what?

BIKSA: Goat’s shit...

IVA: I see you are going back to your roots...

(Biksa starts checking the chairs.)

IVA: Easy now, you’ll break my inventory. Do you really think that anyone will bother to plant a bomb on Dejan?

BIKSA: What! Are you serious? They killed the bald last night...

IVA: Tomcat?

BIKSA: Him, the Tomcat!

IVA: Shit... How?  

BIKSA: They put a bomb under his car, outside the restaurant. When he started the engine, boom... Half of the City rattled. His wife scooped his parts all night.

IVA: You morbid imbecile.

BIKSA: Oh, we became squeamish... Here he is. If he asks, tell him I checked everything...

IVA: I don’t talk to him.

BIKSA: Cut the crap, or he’ll beat you like the last time.

(Iva looks towards the door.)

IVA: Who’s the imbecile with him?

BIKSA: It’s his relative...

IVA: He’s holding her by the ass, moron!

BIKSA: Distant relative... It’s quite common in the south...

IVA: I’ll put rat poison into his whiskey!

BIKSA: You are insane; he said I have to try his drink from now on!

IVA: I’ll find a way, sooner or later!

BIKSA: Lunatic.

IVA: Ape!

BIKSA: Be careful!

IVA: Fuck you!

(While Iva and Biksa argue, Svetlana enters the coffee shop followed by Dejan. Svetlana is a pretty 25 year old girl, dressed according to motto “everything is at display” and wears too much makeup. Dejan is a 25 year old chubby Mafioso, with compulsory massive gold chain around his neck. They are both drunk a little.)

SVETLANA: Don’t, Dejan! Don’t!

DEJAN: (To Iva and Biksa.) What is it, you are quarrelling again.

BIKSA: Just a little, Boss, to make the time pass.

DEJAN: (To Iva, impersonating snake hissing.) Hissing, hissing...

IVA: Fuck you and your...

(Dejan suddenly changes his mood. He approaches Iva and holds her by the hair.)

IVA: Ouch, don’t Dejan, ouch...

DEJAN: I am sorry Dejan. You say – I’m sorry Dejan!

IVA: Let go of me.

DEJAN: I can’t hear you. (He pulls Iva’s hair stronger.)

IVA: I’m sorry.

DEJAN: Sorry... Who? (He pulls Iva’s hair even stronger.)

IVA: I am sorry Dejan!

DEJAN: That’s my girl. (He lets Iva go.)

IVA: Assho...

(Iva doesn’t finish, and Dejan turns to her again, she withdraws.)

IVA: I’m sorry Dejan! I mean it!

(Dejan looks at Iva. Iva looks down. Tense situation is being interrupted by Biksa.)

BIKSA: Boss, I checked everything.

DEJAN: (Mutters under his breath looking at Iva.) I’ll show you some day...

BIKSA: Hundred percent clear.

DEJAN: (Still looks at Iva.) Is he bullshitting me, or he really checked everything?

BIKSA: I did, I checked the premises...

DEJAN: (Points at Iva.) I asked her!

IVA: He did, so did I, this morning.

DEJAN: Bullshit. Tomcat didn’t take shit seriously, now he’s scattered all over... If something should happen to me, you’ll all starve, you shit. (To Svetlana, he tries to be funny and cynical at he same time.) Isn’t that so, distant relative of mine? 

SVETLANA: Excuse me?

DEJAN: (To Biksa.) Swear on your mother’s life that you didn’t tell Iva exactly the same shit when she asked about Svetlana.

IVA: I don’t give a shit about your girlfriends...

DEJAN: No shit!

BIKSA: (He is embarrassed.) I’ll stand guard outside...

DEJAN: You think you can get away now when it’s interesting...

IVA: Hilarious...

DEJAN: (To Svetlana.) Go, introduce yourself...

SVETLANA: Do I have to, honey?

DEJAN: (Cynical.) Sure you do, honey-bunny.  

(Svetlana approaches Iva. She extends her hand.)

SVETLANA: Nice to meet you, I’m Svetlana.

(Svetlana’s hand “hangs” in the air. Iva gives her a killing look.)

IVA: You should know that he likes it from behind. He’ll rip that little ass of yours.

DEJAN: Iva, you really rock. (To Biksa.) Doesn’t she?

BIKSA: I should go outside, just let me go to the toilet first...

DEJAN: Iva is in a good mood...

(Biksa laughs.)

SVETLANA: (To Dejan.) Since we made the acquaintances, let’s sit down and have a drink. Is there a service in this joint?

DEJAN: (To Biksa) This one is not bad either.

BIKSA: The first table is the safest one.

DEJAN: This will be an interesting evening...

(Dejan and Svetlana sit down. Biksa stands next to the table.)

BIKSA: What will it be?

SVETLANA: Is he a waiter or a bodyguard?

DEJAN: (To Biksa.) What is it with you...?

BIKSA: I thought I might serve you, while I’m standing...

DEJAN: Get out of here.

BIKSA: Should I try the drink before...?

DEJAN: In this place!? What an idiot... Get out! Don’t take your eyes from the car.

BIKSA: Where is it?

DEJAN: Down the street.

BIKSA: Should I make some space in front of the coffee shop and park her there.

DEJAN: Forget about it. I’m the only one driving the Cherokee.

BIKSA: This is for the reasons of security...

DEJAN: She is not on the other side of the world, just ten meters down the street. Stand on the pavement and guard.

BIKSA: Can I use the toilet first?

DEJAN: Shit-head... Don’t let anyone enter the coffee shop.

BIKSA: I won’t.

(Biksa goes towards the exit, where the toilet is. Iva approaches the table, where Svetlana and Dejan are seated.)

SVETLANA: I’ll have a whiskey and a Coke.

IVA: What brand?

SVETLANA: Jack Daniels.

IVA: It’s bourbon.

SVETLANA: Zveki, is she fucking with me?

DEJAN: Uh-huh.

IVA: (To Dejan.) Do you enjoy this?

DEJAN: I won’t lie...

IVA: You won’t lie!

SVETLANA: I’m so thirsty...

DEJAN: (To Iva.) You got more than you deserved...

IVA: You know what I deserve...

DEJAN: Don’t make me get up...

SVETLANA: Since you are already getting up, get me a drink; I’m dying of thirst...

(Dejan suddenly slaps Svetlana in the face. She gets scared and she gets up. Dejan pulls her down to sit.)

DEJAN: (To Iva.) I’ll have the same she’s having!

(Iva walks towards the bar. There is a sound of flushing in the toilet.)

DEJAN: Shit-head is finished. Now we are safe... It’s a wonder that I lived to be twenty-five in spite of all you idiots around me. (To Svetlana.) How old are you honey-bunny...

SVETLANA: (Scared and confused.) The same as you, twenty-five.

DEJAN: You too! Where did you go to school?

SVETLANA: To „Toza Marković“.

DEJAN: I’m not asking about the primary school. What secondary school did you go to?

(Svetlana is quiet.)

DEJAN: What is it? What are you scared about, I didn’t kill you...

SVETLANA: I started dating early.

IVA: Bingo!

DEJAN: (To Iva.) You, college graduate, cut the crap. And play some music, it’s no wonder the coffee shop is not making any money, the atmosphere is like in a monastery. (To Svetlana.) You know, Svetlana, you are a little bit stupid, but pretty...

(Dejan touches Svetlana’s face and starts kissing her. Svetlana accepts. Iva turns on the stereo and there is loud music, „Šarlo akrobata“, the so-called new wave. Dejan gets upset and walks towards the bar.)

DEJAN: Now you’re dead.

IVA: I’ll change it, don’t...

(Dejan takes the stereo, pulls out the wires and throws it on the floor. Iva jumps onto the counter, she looks at the stereo and then at Dejan.)

IVA: Don’t hurt me...

DEJAN: I’ll kill you...

(Biksa enters. He is upset.)

BIKSA: My Gosh, Zveki!

DEJAN: What is it?

BIKSA: They took the Cherokee away!

DEJAN: What are you talking about?

BIKSA: Tow truck.

DEJAN: They towed my Cherokee!? Are you drunk, or high...?

BIKSA: No boss. I went out and she wasn’t there. I looked up the street and saw Cherokee being towed away down Jurii Gagarin street.

DEJAN: I don’t believe this. I don’t believe this shit!!!

BIKSA: Let’s go with the Audi and catch them.

DEJAN: Oh, no. They won’t get off so easy. They will return her, I bet my name on it. They will park it on the same spot... (He takes his cellular and dials.) I don’t believe this shit.

(Biksa sees the broken stereo on the floor. He looks at Iva. She waves her hand. He signs her that she’s crazy. Iva shows him the middle finger. Biksa crosses himself. In the meanwhile, Dejan talks on the phone.)

DEJAN: Hello, Milan is that you?... Dejan, Dejan... No, I’m not OK... They towed my car, otherwise everything is OK... I’m not cynical, I’m pissed!... What do you mean, who?... Those idiots of yours. They towed my Cherokee... Sure I’m serious, Biksa will corroborate...

(Dejan gives his phone to Biksa. Biksa takes it and talks while his body is in a servile position, as if talking to his superior.)

BIKSA: Yes Sir, they really did. They towed Cherokee... I don’t know. I didn’t see them... I didn’t see which officer... Me... I was in the facility... Number two, if you insist...

(It is obvious that somebody is yelling on the other side of the line.)

DEJAN: Let me talk to him.

(Biksa gives the phone back to Dejan.)

DEJAN: Don’t yell... You assigned Biksa to me... Stop blaming him. Just call whomever you have to call and tell them to bring her back... I don’t give a shit about taxi drivers’ strike. I want my car back… We are at Iva’s, the coffee shop, Gandhi street... You tell them to park her back on the same spot and tell that officer of yours to come and apologize... No, I’m not overreacting... If he doesn’t know me, this is his chance to meet me... It’s better this way... OK. Bye... OK. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise... You have my word... Bye!

(Dejan hangs up.)

DEJAN: I’ll only show him who the boss is. (To Biksa.) And you asshole...

BIKSA: Boss, they already towed her when I was in the toilet...

DEJAN: If something should happen to her, your ass is fried! Do you remember how I beat her (he points to Iva) into a pulp when she scratched the car!

BIKSA: I don’t...

IVA: I do!

DEJAN: You are not capable of securing my car, let alone me!

BIKSA: Who could presume that somebody dares tow your Cherokee...

DEJAN: You are not paid to presume, but to keep guard. When somebody points a gun in my direction, you are to take the bullet, not escape to the toilet...

BIKSA: I didn’t escape, I swear on...

DEJAN: Get out of my sight, before I break you in half!

(Biksa runs outside. Svetlana is standing, she approaches the counter.)

SVETLANA: Dejan, may I ask something important, but don’t hit me.


SVETLANA: Can I take Coke at least, I’m thirsty...

(Iva laughs, Dejan slaps Svetlana and she falls down on the floor. Iva approaches with the tray and stands right above Svetlana.)

SVETLANA: You said you wouldn’t...

DEJAN: I didn’t!

(Iva takes the glass from the tray and spills it on Svetlana.)

IVA: One bourbon, coming right up...  

SVETLANA: You are insane!

IVA: And a Coke!

(Svetlana is wet. She stands up.)

IVA: (To Dejan, pointing at bourbon and Coca-Cola ordered for him.) Shall I double it up, or you’ll take yours?

(Dejan takes the bourbon, drinks it in a gulp and walks towards the table.)

DEJAN: (To Iva.) Bring another round. (To Svetlana.) Will you have the same?

SVETLANA: No, I changed my mind...

DEJAN: Stop the shit! You see I’m aggravated.

SVETLANA: (Suddenly, hysterically, about to burst into tears.) Look at me! My clothes are ruined!

DEJAN: Go to the toilet, next to the entrance door, fix yourself, then come back to have a drink.

SVETLANA: My teeth are loose! (She tries to take her artificial teeth from the mouth.)

DEJAN: Whose fault is it that you have false teeth in your age?

SVETLANA: You told me to do something about my teeth...

DEJAN: But I didn’t tell you to replace the whole set! There’s three thousand Euros in your mouth, you stupid shit...

(Svetlana takes out her dental bridge, beneath it the remnants of her real teeth are sharpened for the dental bridge basis.)

SVETLANA: (Holding her artificial teeth.) It seems broken. Take a look!

DEJAN: Get out of my sight. One can get traumatized just by looking at you, you toothless monster... Do whatever you want, paste it, remove stains, dry, iron, just don’t make me look at you looking like that!

(Svetlana cries and goes to the toilet. Pause. Iva and Dejan are alone at last.)

IVA: This one exceeds them all...

DEJAN: Shut up...

IVA: I didn’t come to your place to date, it’s you...

DEJAN: I came to my place, not yours.

(Iva brings the drinks. She puts it in front of Dejan.)

IVA: Who killed Tomcat?

DEJAN: I have no idea... Not the cops. Zvezdara group swears they have nothing to do with it.

IVA: Do you believe them?

DEJAN: This time I do. It makes no sense for them to kill him.

IVA: Maybe somebody new?

DEJAN: Maybe. Why, are you worried?

IVA: What do you think?


DEJAN: I’ll make Svetlana an extraordinary good looking broad.

IVA: You fuck!

DEJAN: You’ll miss me!

IVA: I told you, after the hospital, if you hit me again, you can have me only by force.

DEJAN: Who do you think you are to make the rules...

IVA: I know who I’m not.

(Dejan is upset. He gets up, takes Iva by the hair again.)

DEJAN: I dumped you, not the other way around!

IVA: I know!

(Dejan releases Iva. He sits again and drinks his bourbon in a single gulp.)

DEJAN: You ask too much.

(Iva goes behind the bar to pour another drink. Biksa enters the coffee shop, accompanied by a twenty-five year old policeman, constable Gaga. There is a sound of the police radio.)

BIKSA: Here he is, Dejan. This is the one that towed your car.

DEJAN: Did you tell him to switch the police radio off. The sound annoys me...

BIKSA: (To Gaga.) Kill it, you stupid...

DEJAN: Easy, Biksa, easy...

GAGA: I...

BIKSA: Switch it off now!

GAGA: It should never be switched off while I’m on duty.

DEJAN: I’ll tell you what you should or shouldn’t do! Switch it off this moment, or I’ll shove it up your ass!

(Gaga reluctantly switches the radio off.)

DEJAN: (Stands up, looks at Gaga, and then talks to Biksa.) Did he put her back on exactly the same place?

BIKSA: They are putting her down.

DEJAN: When they put her down, bring them in here.

GAGA: It’s not their fault, I told them to tow the vehicle.

DEJAN: And you imagine that I’ll let them go because you took on the responsibility?

GAGA: There’s no reason...

DEJAN: Oh, yeah. There is!

GAGA: They are old... 

DEJAN: Like I give a shit.

GAGA: They are scared already.

DEJAN: And you?

GAGA: What about me?

DEJAN: You’re not scared?

BIKSA: Be careful, what you’ll say!

DEJAN: Don’t suggest, Biksa. Let him say what he wants. (To Gaga.) Now tell me, but be honest about it, are you scared, and maybe I’ll let those men off with only two slaps. Biksa doesn’t have a strong arm.

GAGA: I am.

DEJAN: You are... What?

GAGA: Scared.

DEJAN: Now you’re talking! What’s your name?

GAGA: Dragan. Everybody call me Gaga.

DEJAN: Gaga is scared...

BIKSA: Shall I go and slap them?

DEJAN: Only two slaps each. Gaga (He points at Gaga.) has put his neck out. It should be rewarded. And check if they put the car on the same place. Exactly the same place.

BIKSA: If they scratch her?

DEJAN: If they scratch her, then... You break their arms, and then I break your arms and legs!

GAGA: Come on, man.

(Dejan holds Gaga’s face.)

DEJAN: I didn’t say you can speak!

(Dejan indicates to Biksa to go out. Biksa exits.)

DEJAN: (To Iva.) Give him a drink. You see his throat is dry.

IVA: (To Gaga.) Would you like Jack Daniels too?

GAGA: I don’t drink on duty.

DEJAN: You think you’re funny? Do you, asshole?

GAGA: I really don’t drink...

DEJAN: Pour him double!

(Iva pours bourbon and gives the glass to Gaga. Gaga looks at the glass.)

DEJAN: First, bottoms up and then let’s talk.

(Gaga drinks the bourbon. He obviously didn’t like it. Biksa enters.)

BIKSA: Boss, they missed the location.

DEJAN: How much?

BIKSA: About ten centimeters.

DEJAN: What is the punishment?

BIKSA: Well, one of them is unconscious. I only slapped him once...

GAGA: I told you, they are aged. One of them is about to retire.

DEJAN: What the hell is he doing in the field? He should be sitting behind a desk in an office. (To Biksa.) Tell them they’ll have to put her in exactly the same place. Go on!

(Biksa goes out.)

DEJAN: So, you’re Gaga. You know me...

GAGA: We just met.

DEJAN: I don’t give a shit... Now, tell me who told you to tow my Cherokee?

GAGA: Nobody, really. Only when the Head of the Police called me did I understand what it’s all about...

DEJAN: Bullshit! The same person who told you to tow her killed the Tomcat. Did you think that the same scheme will work with me?

GAGA: Tomcat, who? I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about!

(Dejan is irritated, he holds Gaga by his collar.  Gaga is scared.)

DEJAN: Don’t give me that bullshit! Do you really think that I’ll fall for that shit?

(Iva approaches Dejan.)

GAGA: But, I really don’t know...

IVA: Dejan, don’t, you’ll create problems...

DEJAN: He’s fucking with me!

IVA: Stop it! Stop!

(Dejan releases Gaga.)

IVA: Have a drink. Calm down.

DEJAN: Calm down, my ass. He’s playing naïve... I’ll get him while he’s not in the uniform...

GAGA: I swear I don’t know anything!

DEJAN: Where do you live?

GAGA: I live in Block 62.

DEJAN: You’re from the neighborhood and you haven’t heard about me. I don’t believe that...

GAGA: I was away for seven years.

DEJAN: Where were you?

GAGA: Germany.

DEJAN: In Germany!? Fuck, are you mad? Who do you work for?

GAGA: No one. I lived there. I decided to come back...

DEJAN: How long have you been there?

GAGA: Seven years.

DEJAN: You lived in Germany for seven years and then, not only did you return, you decided to become a cop. Something is really wrong with you... Not even Svetlana would buy that.

IVA: You think so?

(Biksa enters again.)

BIKSA: Boss, these guys are good for nothing. The second one is also unconscious, but I didn’t kick him hard. And now Cherokee is hanging, on cables.

DEJAN: Moron, wake them up, have them bring her down.

BIKSA: I can put her down...

DEJAN: Touch the tow-truck controls and it will be your last.

BIKSA: How can I put her down?

DEJAN: I told you, wake them up!

BIKSA: First knock them out, then wake them up... make up your mind. I’m not a doctor, I’m a bodyguard!

DEJAN: Biksa!

BIKSA: All right, all right...

(Biksa exits.)

DEJAN: (To Gaga.) Do you see with whom I have to work? Morons. So, where were we? Oh yes, you were telling me that you lived abroad, and I, let’s say, believe you.

GAGA: I fled when I was eighteen. My old man was a policeman. He died of a heart attack one month ago. Mom, was alone... 

DEJAN: So you came back because of your mummy. Heartbreaking...

GAGA: This is my second day on the job. I really haven’t heard about you...

DEJAN: Even so, you spent there seven years, and here, you managed to fuck your life in only two days...

GAGA: I don’t understand.

DEJAN: Let me explain. I cannot touch you while you’re on duty. But, your notice of termination is being typed as we speak. After they deliver it to you, this very afternoon, you will see what a mistake you made. This very night.

GAGA: Come on, man, the dispatch service informed that the street is blocked. What was I supposed to do? It’s only a car! 

DEJAN: This is not about the car. This is about the principle. This is a small place. The moment there’s word that rooky towed my car and then ended up undamaged, every fucking kid will think that they can fuck with me...

GAGA: What do you mean undamaged?

DEJAN: I didn’t break your fingers, all your teeth are still there, and you can move your arms and legs. What do you think...?

GAGA: You’re not serious...

DEJAN: Uh-huh... (To Iva.) Tell him, baby.

IVA: He is serious. In the best case scenario, you will spend only three months on the orthopedic ward...

DEJAN: No, baby, I was being soft on you. You see, there were some emotions...

IVA: Is that so...?

(Suddenly, there are strange sounds, something like a short cry, then a terrible blow and characteristic sound made by Dejan’s Cherokee, the same sound we heard in the first part of the scene when Dejan parked the car.)

DEJAN: Fuck. The idiot brought it down himself. (To Iva.) Go out and see what happened. If I go out, I’ll either have a hear attack or kill the bastard.

(Iva runs outside. She exits.)

DEJAN: If what I think happened, I’ll work double shifts tonight. There’s no telling which one of you will end up worse...

(Biksa enters. He is pale.)

BIKSA: Boss!

DEJAN: What did you do, idiot?

BIKSA: He fell on the Cherokee?

DEJAN: What do you mean? Fell...?

BIKSA: Fell on the top. I said we should armor the top too, against the aerial attack.

DEJAN: Who fell on top? Where from?

BIKSA: From the building, some nude guy.

DEJAN: What nude guy? What are you raving about?

BIKSA: Stark naked! He fucked Cherokee totally.

(Iva enters.)

DEJAN: Iva, what happened to my car...

IVA: Điđa killed himself!

BIKSA: Kaća’s Điđa?

IVA: I don’t believe this. He killed himself. Idiot!

DEJAN: What are you talking about? You aren’t making any sense...

BIKSA: Kaća’s husband? Is that him?

IVA: Leave me alone you idiot!

DEJAN: (Goes towards the door.) You are all mad. I’ll go and see...

(Gaga understands that this is his opportunity to escape. He starts running towards the door.)

DEJAN: Biksa, get him!

(Biksa snaps out of it, he manages to catch Gaga, he brings him down on the floor. They wrestle.)

DEJAN: Beat him someplace else; I cannot go out because of you two. I have to see what happened to the Cherokee...

(Suddenly, there is a muffled shot. Gaga shot Biksa, Biksa’s body muffled the shot. Gaga stands up. He turns the gun to Dejan.)

DEJAN: You are really insane.  

GAGA: Don’t you move!

DEJAN: (As if he didn’t take the warning seriously.) There’s no place where you can hide from me, you stupid fuck...

IVA: Dejan!

(Dejan starts walking towards Gaga. Gaga shoots and Dejan falls down. Gaga is scared. He aims at Iva, who already approached Dejan. Dejan is dying. Gaga is rigid for a moment and then he runs away.)

DEJAN: It serves me right when I have idiots for guards. (He takes the car keys and gives them to Iva.) Please kill the alarm, the battery… I don’t believe he fell on my Cherokee, fuck…

IVA: I’m pregnant, Dejan...

DEJAN: Are you? Who is the father?

(After having said that, Dejan dies. Iva is in shock.)

IVA: Idiot!

(Iva is almost crying. She stands up, rubs her eyes and switches off the alarm. Svetlana enters. She walks slowly with her eyes closed.)

SVETLANA: Dejan, honey-bunny, what’s with the shooting, again. You promised you won’t shoot any more when we go out. Will you please take out these contact lenses? I did something wrong when I put them back. I can’t see a thing. Hey, I brought some spare clothes... These suit me well...

(Svetlana trips over Biksa’s body and falls down. Her lens falls out.)

SVETLANA: Fuck, now I lost it...I’ll never find it again. Too bad, green is really cool...

(Svetlana opens her eyes and sees Dejan dead. She starts screaming hysterically. She looks at Dejan, Iva and Biksa and screams incredibly loud. Iva slaps her hard on the face and Svetlana stops screaming. Iva stands up and goes to the bar.)

IVA: Would you like a drink?

(Svetlana nods. Iva pours drinks for Svetlana and herself. Svetlana stands up, she takes the drink, her hands are shaking.)

IVA: Cheers.

(They touch glasses.)

IVA: Fuck, there’s no music...

(Dark. There is a sound of another suicide ending on a car. Loud thump. Car alarm going off. Another thump and another car alarm, then another more… Bizarre cacophony of suicide rain over Belgrade.)


Synopsis: Iva, Svetlana, Dejan, Gaga and Biksa are riding in the Cherokee through the immense open space of Deliblatska peščara (sands). The scene resembles those in the Cardigans’ music video. There is a tremendous sense of freedom. Everybody is laughing, happy and careless. As in some other life. Car alarms are still screaming.)


[1] Otpor  (Resistance) – Movement of young people in Serbia, spontaneously initiated by students in 1999. Otpor fought the regime of Slobodan Milosevic by organizing demonstrations and consequently made Serbia move out of its lethargy.

[2] BITEF – Belgrade International Theatre Festival

На Растку објављено: 2008-04-01
Датум последње измене: 2008-04-01 15:23:49
Спонзор хостинга
"Растко" препоручује

IN4S Portal

Плаћени огласи

"Растко" препоручује