Friday, September 16, 2011

#2, “Benjy Sells His Soul”

Setting the Scene: After midnight in New Jersey. Benjy and Paul are in the middle of a conversation, each smoking a cigarette.
___

Benjy: I didn’t sell my soul.

Paul: The moment you start working for a blood-thirsty corporation you’re a sell out. And the only currency corporate America uses are the souls of its workers.

Benjy: Bullshit.

Paul: I’m surprised at you Benjy, I really am.

Benjy: We all can’t be like fucking George Carlin or Bill Hicks you asshole. We all can’t fight the good fight. Some of us have people who want to fucking kill us just because of who we are.

Paul: I don’t think anyone is trying to kill you because of who you are.

Benjy: What about the IRS?

Paul: The IRS wants to rape you, not kill you.

Benjy: Fucking semantics. I’m just saying, I got shit to figure out.

Paul: What happened to the old Benjy? I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.

Benjy: Get off your fucking high horse you asshole. You’re a fucking salve to your customers too man.

Paul: I’m a tattoo artist, Benjy. I create art.

Benjy: Bullshit. You’re a fucking tramp-stamp machine who writes “hit this” for a living.

Paul: At least I’m not in advertising.

Benjy: Fuck you Paul.

Paul: It’s true!

Benjy: We’re all slaves you fuck. You’re a slave to your customers. I’m a slave to advertising. And so is your fucking tattoo parlor – the parlor you work for. You’re a slave to your boss. And your boss is a slave to his fucking business which is a fucking slave to money which is the fucking overseer. You have to understand it man! I’m a slave to my boss and my boss is a slave to fucking power, bro. My boss is a slave to money and power and greed. Just like every other working fuck. We’re all slaves to our jobs. You think Carlin wasn’t a slave to his job? He was a celebrity who was a slave to himself, man. We’re all fucking slaves Paul. And I know that which makes me above everyone else. The truth will set you free!

Paul: That’s from the Bible.

Benjy: Fuck that book.

Paul: Nah, I’d get paper cuts on my dick.

Benjy: You’re an asshole. A crowning, shitting asshole.

Paul: How much is your soul worth?

Benjy: …fucking stupid…

Paul: Seriously. How much? $50? $1 million? Remember that episode of The Simpsons where Bart sells his soul? He sold it to Milhouse for five bucks. It’s a serious question you corporate swine: how much is your soul worth?

Benjy: I sold my soul six years ago for an eight-ball and a taste of your mother’s cunt.

Paul: Was it worth it?

Benjy: The eight-ball was great but your mother’s cunt tasted like the floor of the Pike Place Market.

Paul: No dice.

Benjy: No it was great. But if I could do it over again I’d get a taste of her asshole so I could at least leave with a fresh taste in my mouth.

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