Real and Phantom Pains: An Anthology of New Russian Drama. John Freedman

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      MANIAC: Did you explain that that’s your job?

      SNOWFLAKE: And lots, lots, lots more

      MANIAC: And how do you feel now? Did you like it?

      SNOWFLAKE: I counted off every man I’ve been with for the last six months. I remembered every one of their names

      MANIAC: They all ought to assemble right here in this room. And hold their silence. With this music playing

      SNOWFLAKE: They’re all wonderful. I loved every one of them

      MANIAC: But the fact is – there are a lot of them and only one of you

      SNOWFLAKE: He told me you assimilate into yourself all the people your partners have slept with

      MANIAC: You know what telegony is?

      SNOWFLAKE: Something to do with television?

      MANIAC: You’re better off not knowing

      (They are silent.)

      SNOWFLAKE: I miss being bold and spontaneous like I used to be

      MANIAC: Purse-mascara-lipstick-shoes?

      SNOWFLAKE: Well, something like that

      MANIAC: What else did he say?

      SNOWFLAKE: He said a lot and I cried a lot and I was so confused, the whole room was swimming in tears

      MANIAC: What was to cry about?

      SNOWFLAKE: I cried because I was so sad, from a sensation of being absolutely alone and abandoned in the world, a complete vacuum, shame, repentance, cold, horror and repulsion

      MANIAC: Women are such pious people

      SNOWFLAKE: And then he says, “Forget your dream of yourself. God is a jealous God.” And my tears dried up. They dried up instantly. And I say, “What did you say? Forget my dream of myself? How do you do that!?”

      (BLIZZARD’s apartment. VOLODYA opens and closes desk drawers and closet drawers. He looks everything over at length. BLIZZARD’s entire life is pulled out for everyone to see. Condoms rain down, CDs, vinyl records, guitars, clothing, a synthesizer and miles of cords tumble out and roll on the floor. Speakers, cognac and whiskey bottles, cigarettes, incense, business cards, photos of Blizzard with Alla Pugachyova and Arnold Schwarzenegger, and a photo of a ballerina. VOLODYA picks up the photo of the ballerina in his hands, looks it over at length. Puts it back in its place. VOLODYA sees a yellow suitcase. Approaches it. SNOWSTORM buries his face in his hands. VOLODYA opens the case. From it he removes a towel (puts it on the table), three books (puts them on the table one by one), 200 vinyl records (looks them over carefully), 40 rubles (puts the money on the table). Picks up the books. Leafs through them.)

      VOLODYA: Mikhail Chekhov. Anna Akhmatova. Shakespeare.

      (A small packet of tablets lies in the Shakespeare volume. BLIZZARD looks at SNOWSTORM, SNOWSTORM at BLIZZARD.)

      Wait a minute.

      (All sit quietly. All are silent.)

      BLIZZARD: Okay. If I throw all that stuff out the window right now he’ll never prove I ever possessed it. These guys will back me up. So I go like this... (Slowly reaches for the tablets.)

      VOLODYA: In your place. Sit still.

      BLIZZARD: I have a face like a monkey. I’ve got the shakes. Oh my fucking God I’m in shock.

      (BLIZZARD leaps up, grabs the packet off the table, opens the window and tries to throw the tablets out the window. They fall on the windowsill and bounce all over the floor. VOLODYA shoves BLIZZARD back onto the sofa, pulls his revolver and points it at BLIZZARD’s head.)

      VOLODYA: What are you doing? Why would you do that? You want a buzz, drink vodka. What is wrong with you junkies? You smoke yourself into oblivion and then you’re at each other’s throats

      (Removes his belt and ties BLIZZARD’s hands with it. Gathers the tablets off the floor, counts them and carefully puts them back on the table.)

      One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty... twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight... twenty-nine, thirty... one... thirty-two... thirty-three –

      (MANIAC’s apartment. MANIAC and SNOWFLAKE.)

      SNOWFLAKE: There’s a golden Buddha in your window

      MANIAC: That’s a Buddhist cathedral

      SNOWFLAKE: I thought it was a restaurant

      MANIAC: You see nothing but restaurants

      SNOWFLAKE: Do you go there?

      MANIAC: That’s all we need now is Buddhism

      SNOWFLAKE: Ooh, look! I can see him sitting there! Is that why you rented this apartment?

      MANIAC: Naw, I thought it was a restaurant at first, too

      (They are silent.)

      You know, someday I’m going to slip some crushed glass in your food. I’ll make you a milkshake for breakfast and I’ll slip crushed glass in there. And then I’ll freeze you up in a block of ice.

      SNOWFLAKE: I’m fasting right now. I can’t have milk.

      MANIAC: You’re fasting, are you?

      (They are silent.)

      I should probably fast, too. I’m so totally lacking in energy.

      (BLIZZARD’s apartment.)

      BLIZZARD: Don’t tie my hands. I won’t do it again. (To the witnesses.) Would you guys step out, please.

      (ORANGINA and SNOWSTORM leave. VOLODYA unties BLIZZARD’s hands.)

      (Pulling out a $100 bill.) Volodya, please. Take this and don’t do what you were going to do. You want me to, I’ll get down on my knees. I don’t have anything more today, but I’ll get more tomorrow. I’m a famous musician. I can get a lot of money.

      VOLODYA: No deal. I couldn’t care less what you’re trying to say to me. Put on your coat. I’m locking you up. You can take off your shoestrings right now.

      BLIZZARD: I’m taking off my shoestrings. I’m putting on long-sleeve sailor’s shirt. My raspberry red velvet pants. And my beret on my head. (Blizzard wants to put on a record.) And all this shake, rattle and roll –

      VOLODYA: What are you doing?

      BLIZZARD: I just want to put on some music

      VOLODYA: How come you let me down? Why did you lie to me like that?

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