First 7 scenes of the Queer Fish in God's Waiting Room screenplay

Queer Fish in God’s Waiting Room.

Characters

Liam Kerby, the protagonist.

Brother James, his brother.

Ed Lover, his best friend.

My Claire, his girlfriend.

Ursula Paradise, Ed Lover’s girlfriend.

1. INT. Bedroom. Posada Rosana.

One year ago. My Claire is in bed reading The Heart of Darkness. Liam Kerby is getting ready for bed. He turns the lamp off, leaving just her torch to light her book.

LIAM KERBY: Can you read all right?

MY CLAIRE: Yes.

LIAM KERBY: Not having any difficulties with the big words?

MY CLAIRE: No darling.

LIAM KERBY (VO): My Claire supplies me with inspiration when I doubt that the human spirit can be carried forward.

2. INT. Pub. Macclesfield.

Present day. Brother James, Liam Kerby and Ed Lover are drinking in the pub, dressed for a wedding.

LIAM KERBY (VO): My name is Liam Kerby. This is my brother James and this is my great friend Ed Lover. Three years ago I went to New York with Brother James and Ed Lover. James had just turned 21. Ed Lover and I were a few years older. The following year the three of us visited Mexico City, and it was just after that holiday that I met My Claire. In Caracas were my and My Claire, Ed Lover and his Mexican girlfriend Ursula Paradise, and, without a girlfriend, Brother James.

BROTHER JAMES: Why wasn’t Jesus born in Macclesfield?

LIAM KERBY: I don’t know, James, why wasn’t Jesus born in Macclesfield?

BROTHER JAMES: Because they couldn’t find three wise men and a virgin.

ED LOVER: I’ve got this theory about you and Claire. Do you want to hear it?

LIAM KERBY: Yeah, go on then.

ED LOVER: Really?

LIAM KERBY: Yeah, definitely.

ED LOVER: Well, I look at you and Claire and I see two people who are really happy and I think, ‘Why? Why the fuck is that?’ And do you want to know what I think? And I’ve been thinking about this.

LIAM KERBY: I’d love to know mate.

ED LOVER: OK – clap me in – it’s because you’re proud of each other. You can tell Claire is proud of you and I know you’re proud of her, and that’s why you’re both so happy. If you think about Jenny, she wasn’t proud of me, she thought I was a dick. She didn’t like it when I talked about Che Guevera. She wanted me to be somebody I wasn’t. And Emma wasn’t proud of me – she just admired me.’

LIAM KERBY: I’m proud of you mate.

ED LOVER: Yes, I know that, but I want somebody who is proud of me and wants to fuck me.

LIAM KERBY: Ah.

LIAM KERBY (VO): That’s how it is with Ed Lover – every conversation is an education.

3. INT. Newsagents. Manchester Airport.

Three years ago. Brother James is buying pornographic magazines and Liam Kerby is smiling at his ticket for New York.

4. INT. A flying plane.

Liam Kerby is writing, Brother James is reading a porno, and the air hostess is beautiful.

BROTHER JAMES: I am a fucking legend at oral sex. Write a story about snot. What it does, why it’s there.

LIAM KERBY (VO): I wonder if we speak too much, me and these pages. What if I were to stop writing? What would be missing?

BROTHER JAMES: Oh my goodness – that’s tremendous. She would definitely get it. What’s your favourite film, Liam?

LIAM KERBY: Withnail and I.

BROTHER JAMES: Never heard of it. Mine is Die Hard.

LIAM KERBY: Which one?

BROTHER JAMES: I think they’re all as good as each other.

Liam eyes up James’s chocolate muffin.

LIAM KERBY: Are you eating that?

BROTHER JAMES: Fuck off. I’m saving that.

LIAM KERBY: Thank you, brother.

BROTHER JAMES: Can I have a Bloody Mary please?

AIR HOSTESS: And for you?

LIAM KERBY (VO): Mmmm. Probably beer and peanuts.

AIR HOSTESS: Is the question too hard for you?

LIAM KERBY (VO): Why did she say that?

BROTHER JAMES: Listen love, you’re an airhostess and he is a writer. I doubt that you’ve got any questions that would be too hard for him.

Exit Air Hostess.

BROTHER JAMES: Daft bitch. Imagine if you got a monthly statement, like the ones you get from the bank, that told you how many wanks you’d had that month and what you were thinking about when you had them.

LIAM KERBY: I’d say you’d be deep in the fucking red with that account brother.

BROTHER JAMES: You’re not wrong.

5. INT. Room 607. The Aladdin Hostel, Hell’s Kitchen, New York.

Brother James and Liam Kerby are sharing Room 607 with four strangers, Fat Mike, Smashed-up-Face, Corey and Mike the Cunt. Everyone is smoking weed except Brother James.

FAT MIKE: I lit up a cigarette on the flight here. When we landed, a small army of cops scooped us up and tried to intimidate us with the usual pig show. They let us go and they never found these 25 ecstasy tablets in my washbag, which we’ll be taking on New Year’s Eve. I live in London, and I love it there, but I came to New York, Liam, because New York attracts the artistic and the powerful like nowhere else and side-by-side they make exquisite purple and red fountains for our varying tastes.

LIAM KERBY: What’s London like?

FAT MIKE: Ah, well, Liam, the London roundabout travels at approximately 130 miles per hour, which is around 50 miles per hour quicker than the other fast British cities like Manchester, Edinburgh and Liverpool. So it’s because of this that you must be careful when you go to London, because if you end up in London and start demanding it goes slower by going slower yourself you’ll undoubtedly fall on your arse, and there’s every chance you’ll not get picked up but spat out.

LIAM KERBY: I’ve only been to London once and I fell on my arse just trying to negotiate the tube. I was lucky enough to be picked up by a mate of mine, Crazy Legs, who worked as a caretaker at a special needs school in London’s East End. He was a good source of weed, Crazy Legs. He lived in a squat in Acton Town, which is where he introduced me to the blackcurrant bath bong.

FM: What the fuck is a blackcurrant bath bong?

6. INT. Bathroom. House. West Acton, London.

Crazy Legs and Liam Kerby are doing a blackcurrant bath bong.

LIAM KERBY (VO): To make a blackcurrant bath bong you put the following ingredients in a bath: one bottle of blackcurrant cordial, half a bath’s worth of cold water and any ice you have to hand. Then, you slice the bottom clean off a four-litre plastic water bottle. Next, make a tinfoil cave, perforate its based with needle pricks and place your cave into the bottle’s neck. You then sink the bottle ever so slowly into the water to just below its neck and stuff the weed into the cave. It is very important that you do not wet the weed. Then, put a flame just above the weed and slowly start to raise the bottle from the water, causing the dry plant to pull at the flame and burn smoke into the bottle. Once the weed has burnt out, you cradle the bottle with both hands, get a friend to remove the tinfoil cave, and quickly put your lips around the bottle’s mouth. Then…bosh…you shove the bottle into the water to shoot the strangely cold and blackcurrant-flavoured smoky brew into your lungs.

CRAZY LEGS: Liam, I’ve just realised something.

LIAM KERBY: What?

CRAZY LEGS: I’m a healer, not a dealer.

7. INT. Room 607. The Aladdin Hostel, Hell’s Kitchen, New York.

Liam Kerby is on his bed writing.

MIKE THE CUNT: Did you hear that fast bastard cutting trees in the night? Fucking fat cunt, did you hear it? Liam. Liam.

LIAM: What?

MIKE THE CUNT: Fat Mike’s snoring.

LIAM KERBY: What about it?

MIKE THE CUNT: Did you hear it?

LIAM KERBY: Yes.

MIKE THE CUNT: Didn’t it keep you awake?

LIAM KERBY: I’d take it over your whining accent.

MIKE THE CUNT: Fuck off. And what the fuck are you writing about?

LIAM KERBY: How much I like you.

MIKE THE CUNT: Are you writing about yourself?

LIAM KERBY: Among other things, yes.

MIKE THE CUNT: And do you write about your brother, too?

LIAM KERBY: Yes.

MIKE THE CUNT: And do you want people to read what you write?

LIAM KERY: Yes, I do.

MIKE THE CUNT: And take it seriously?

LIAM KELLY: Yes. I want it to be, like Shelley said, the trumpet of a prophecy.

MIKE THE CUNT: You pretentious twat. It’ll never happen.

LIAM KERBY: Why?

MIKE THE CUNT: Well the answer to that is simple enough.

BROTHER JAMES: Let’s hear it then.

LIAM KERBY: Well, James, the reason that I cannot believe Liam is a good writer is that he is so clearly a fool, and a fool should never write, or, at least, should never write well because if he does, how on earth is anybody able to believe in his foolishness.

BROTHER JAMES: I think you are a great writer, Liam.

MIKE THE CUNT: We’ll see, we’ll see.

BROTHER JAMES: What a cunt.