Les Podervyansky — Play "Pizdets"

Some notes on the text for those who don't know Ukrainian (or couldn't figure it out on the first try 8-) :

j = yi
e = e \
e = ye --(figure it out yourself which is which ;)
и = y
i = i
' = hard sign (= soft sign, very rarely ;)

       Les Podervyansky

             Play

          Pizdets.
Dedicated to creative unions.

Characters:
Magarych – an artist;
Omelyan Kosopyzd – an artist;
Khariton Yupyshchenko – an artist;
Nazar Sivukha – an artist;
Alfred Zolupenko – an artist;
Lyuda – train car conductor, whom all the above-mentioned artists fuck sometimes one by one, and sometimes just like that;
Gavryusha Obezyanov – an engineer;
Stepan Sraka – chief engineer;
Shlyoma Gomelsky – a scholar;
Roger Garaudy – French bourgeois nationalist;
Prophet Samuel – an old Jew.

          Act One.

On stage stands a freight boxcar. On the door of the car is written: E equals mc squared.
A bit lower is written: Nothing disappears anywhere and comes from nowhere. Signed – Lomonosov.
Even lower down, filthy obscene scribbles. The doors are carefully shut and wired tight with wire. Muffled voices can be heard from behind the doors.

First Voice:

• And just imagine: this dickhead leaves, and you're left alone with her, and you have nothing in your hands except an old wooden trough.
  Second Voice:
• From that point, please, with all the details, Alfred Yukhymovych.
  First Voice:
• First of all, you piss into the trough...
  Third Voice:
• But it’s full of holes, Alfred Yukhymovych!
  Fourth Voice:
• Shut the fuck up and listen to what a smart man is saying!
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• I repeat once more for the slow-witted: you piss into the trough, my dear sir, and then you put her in there with both feet...
  Second Voice (hoarsely):
• What, with her clothes on?
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Of course not, Pan Sivukha, buck naked!
  Third Voice:
• Bah, why do such bullshit, just walk up from behind and shove it in!
  Fourth Voice:
• Look at you, Kosopyzd you crackhead, instead of running your mouth you should learn from your elders!!
  Third Voice:
• Yeah, like I give a fuck.
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• A special explanation for the children of nature: urine activates the erogenous zones on a woman's heels.
  Voice of Kosopyzd:
• The fuck kind of zone, bitch, when I already dream of the penal zone every night.
  Fourth Voice:
• Stop jawing, let us listen.
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Breakfast, goddammit.
  Voice of Nazar Sivukha:
• I beg of you, don't get distracted, esteemed Alfred Yukhymovych!
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• I emphasize your attention, gentlemen. The woman at this point enters a state of sexual arousal.
  Voice of Nazar Sivukha:
• What did you say, Alfred Yukhymovych, repeat that?
  Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Sexual arousal, you four-eyed cunt. And at this exact moment, gentlemen, you feel out the popliteal fossa behind her knee with your index and ring fingers and start licking it, moving your tongue higher, higher, and higher all the time...
  Fifth Voice:
• And straight up to her asshole, ha-ha-ha-ha...
  Beastly laughter resounds from the boxcar.
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Right at this very moment, my friends, the long-awaited erection comes upon you...
  Voice of Nazar Sivukha:
• And what if it doesn't come, Alfred Yukhymovych, then what do you do?
  Voice of Omelyan Kosopyzd:

• Then you gotta drain the radiator!

  Enter Lyuda, dressed as a train car conductor. In Lyuda's hands is a tray with food. She unwinds the wire on the doors, opens them, and disappears into the dark maw of the freight boxcar.

  Voice of Omelyan Kosopyzd:

• How long do we gotta wait for you, whore!
  Voice of Khariton Yupyshchenko:
• Macaroni again, fuck's sake.
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• And no lard, what, none?
  Voice of Nazar Sivukha:

• Stop chomping your food, you freak!
  Voice of Magarych – chomping noises.

  For some time, only chomping, clattering of aluminum spoons, and Omelyan Kosopyzd's line: "Give us the compote, for fuck's sake!" can be heard from the boxcar.

  A little later we hear the quiet voice of Nazar Sivukha:

• Lyuda, are you ready?
  And some mysterious rustling.
  A few minutes later, Lyuda emerges from the boxcar, holding a neatly stacked pile of dirty aluminum bowls. She fixes her hair, puts on her uniform beret, and ties the door shut with wire. From inside the boxcar, someone lets out a sated belch, followed by cheerful laughter. It is clear by all accounts that its inhabitants live a fine and merry life.

  Enter Gavryusha Obezyanov and Stepan Sraka, immersed in their engineering folders and calculations. They are overworked, harassed, and neurotic.

  Gavryusha Obezyanov:

• According to our data, if the construction project goes to shit now, it will definitely go to shit next quarter.
  Stepan Sraka (frightened):
• And what happens then, Gavryusha?
  Gavryusha Obezyanov (spits):
• Prison, fuck it!
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• So then, my friends, if a woman is treated properly, she ceases to be just a woman and becomes a symphony, by that guy, what's his name...
  Voice of Magarych:
• Brahms!
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:

• Fuck Brahms! What a load of crap, like farting in a puddle!

  From the car, someone lets out another sated belch, and the voice of Omelyan Kosopyzd:

• Macaroni, damn it!
  Stepan Sraka (whispering):
• That's where they're catching real kicks!!
  Gavryusha Obezyanov (to Lyuda):
• Who's in there with you?
  Lyuda:
• Artists!
  Gavryusha Obezyanov:
• What artists?
  Lyuda:
• All sorts: one with a beard, one clean-shaven, two more with mustaches, one with glasses, just a kid.
  Stepan Sraka:
• And what are they doing?
  Lyuda:
• Ah, eating macaroni! On Saturday and Sunday, coffee instead of compote. Vodka on holidays.
  Gavryusha Obezyanov:
• And lard?
  Lyuda:
• They used to give lard before, not anymore.
  Stepan Sraka (resolutely):
• Still a fucking great life.
  (To Lyuda):
• Open up, bitch!
  Lyuda:
• Maybe you shouldn't, they'll beat you up.
  Stepan Sraka:

• Ah, fuck it, you only live once.

  Stepan Sraka and Gavryusha Obezyanov storm the boxcar, but instantly get beaten up and roll back out.

  Stepan Sraka:

• Let us in, friends, we won't do it again!
  Voice of Magarych:
• Looks like getting your ass kicked wasn't enough for you? You want to get fucked in the ass too? Shut the door!
  Stepan Sraka:
• Lads, fuck us wherever you want, just let us in, I'll carry out the slop bucket, cross my heart!
  Voice of Khariton Yupyshchenko:
• Why not let them in, lads? Those engineers yelp like puppies, makes things cheerful, and if we get sick of them, we'll strangle 'em and throw 'em out on their asses.
  Alfred Zolupenko:
• Right you are, lads, let him climb in.
  Omelyan Kosopyzd:

• Man to man is a friend, comrade, and brother!

  Gavryusha Obezyanov and Stepan Sraka climb into the freight car and vanish into the darkness. Lyuda wires the door shut again.

  Voice of Magarych:

• And you, whore, if you let anyone else in, I'll rip your tonsils out through your asshole.

  Lyuda leaves, clattering the dishes.

  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:

• Where were we, gentlemen?
  Nazar Sivukha:
• At Brahms's symphony.
  Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Fuck Brahms. You'd better listen carefully, Pan Sivukha, and write this down in your quote-book, because you don't know shit about life yet! Just yesterday after dinner some slut called you, like, drop everything and come over to fuck. And what did you do? You started shaking like a rabid dog and banging on the door! Good thing I always keep a syringe ready! Now, Kosopyzd, what would you have done in Pan Sivukha's place?
  Voice of Kosopyzd:
• Why, I would've killed her!!!
  Pan Sraka (in ecstasy):

• What men, Gavryusha, what men! While we spend our whole lives busting our asses like moles, flitting around like flies.

  A few minutes ago, Shlyoma Gomelsky, a scientist, approached the boxcar and is listening with curiosity to the conversation flowing smoothly along its usual course.

  Alfred Yukhymovych:

• Or take something like dancing. Nowadays every moron dances by himself: waving his arms and legs around, sweating all over, and the only reward he gets is catching pneumonia! Meanwhile, male sweat is a raw pheromone. So instead of waving your arms around, grab a handkerchief, clamp it under your armpit, and dance so it gets well soaked with sweat...
  Voice of Magarych:
• Heh-heh, not half bad.
  Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Once it's well soaked, wipe the chick's mug with it, and consider the job done...
  Voice of Kosopyzd:
• Bah, what's that bullshit for?
  Alfred Yukhymovych:

• She takes one sniff: she's done for! An impulse goes from the erogenous zones of the nose to the sexual arousal center, all that's left is to drag her to the bushes...

  Over Shlyoma's bespectacled and freckled face, tears and drool flow copiously.

  Shlyoma Gomelsky through tears of happiness:

• Guys, let me in.
  Voice of Alfred Yukhymovych:
• Go to your lab, kike, we've got more than enough of our own here.
  Shlyoma Gomelsky, amazed by such insight:
• How do you know, mister?
  Alfred Yukhymovych:
• I know because I've lived a life. Fuck off, you've got a candidate's thesis to grind out.
  Shlyoma (sobbing):
• Fuck that candidate's thesis...
  Alfred Yukhymovych:

• What, you cunt, you don't want to get your 150 rubles? No, did you see that? The kid has completely lost his mind!

  Shlyoma weeps, his sobbing casting a depressing spell over those sitting in the car. They remain maliciously silent.

  Omelyan Kosopyzd (cruelly):

• Never mind, let him cry, then he'll go get circumcised, stuff his face with matzo, and run the show.
  Alfred Yukhymovych:
• You are not a humanist, Omelyan.
  Magarych:
• What, maybe we should take the kike in?
  Khariton Yupyshchenko:
• Well, what do I care, let him crawl in.
  Kosopyzd:
• The ration will shrink.
  Nazar Sivukha:
• Ha, Jews are so crafty, just wait, they'll score not just macaroni, but canned saury too.
  Alfred Yukhymovych:

• Now don't you worry your ass about saury, Pan Sivukha. You won't be eating it anyway. (To Shlyoma): Come on, little kike, unwind the wire and get in here. We'll give you your initiation into the arts.

  Shlyoma unwinds the wire and climbs into the car, where lovers of the craft—Magarych, Omelyan Kosopyzd, and Khariton Yupyshchenko—immediately start beating the shit out of him.

  Gavryusha Obezyanov:

• We need to tie the door shut somehow, this isn't an almshouse, they keep crawling and crawling in.
  Alfred Yukhymovych:

• Ah, let Lyuda bring lunch and wire it shut.

  Enter Roger Garaudy, French bourgeois nationalist. He is wearing a chic flannel suit with a handsome hat on his head. Roger Garaudy knocks on the car:

• Come on out, lads, freedom has arrived!
  Inside the car, silence.
  Roger Garaudy:
• Stop moping around, it's great out in freedom: birds, rye fields, flowers, girls, whatever you want, you can paint it, whoever you want, you can tell 'em to fuck off.
  Stepan Sraka (whispering):
• Clear provocation, lads, we'll climb out, and whoosh, he'll slip in himself and gobble down all the macaroni single-handedly.
  Alfred Yukhymovych (to Roger Garaudy):
• Will they give us lard?
  Roger Garaudy:
• Nah, only God and the bosses get lard.
  Magarych:
• Well then fuck right off out of here.
  Omelyan Kosopyzd:

• Trying to agitate us, fuck that, we can agitate anyone ourselves.

  A cobblestone flies out of the car and knocks the hat off Roger Garaudy's head. Roger Garaudy flees in terror. Enter an old man with a long face, dressed in a long coat, over which he wears the bright vest of a railway worker. In his hands are a sledgehammer and a crowbar.

  Voice of Magarych:

• Old man, wire the door shut.

  The old man silently wires the car shut with wire and methodically starts knocking out the wheel chocks with the sledgehammer, thanks to which the car stays in place.

  Voice of Khariton Yupyshchenko:

• Hmm... The grandpa looks half-witted, why does he need to bust his balls like that?
  Magarych:
• Beefy old man, probably still gets hard. Does your dick still stand, grandpa?
  The old man continues working:
• It stands, sonny. May God grant you that yours stands like that too.
  Omelyan Kosopyzd:
• Whoa, holy shit, grandpa's getting cheeky. What's your name?
  The old man continues working:
• My name? Samuel.
  Khariton Yupyshchenko:
• A Jew too, then. So many fucking Jews around... Un-fucking-believable.

Samuil continues his work (calmly):
— Yeah, lots of Yids.

Omelian Kosopyzd:
— We've got some here too.

Nazar Sivukha:
— Heh, Samuil. Maybe you're the prophet Samuil?

Samuil simply:
— Yes, I am the prophet Samuil.

Alfred Yukhimovich:
— Ha-ha, what a prophet, and what's gonna happen to us?

Prophet Samuil:
— What'll happen? Nothing'll happen, we're fucked.

With these words, Samuil knocks out the last iron; the train car tears off from its spot and quickly vanishes from sight. Liuda enters, holding bowls of macaroni and compote in her hands. Liuda freezes in place:
— Where's the car, where are the boys?

Prophet Samuil:
— Where, where, up a cunt. Gotta keep your eyes open.

At that very moment, a terrible explosion rings out from the direction the car went; Liuda drops the bowls. Prophet Samuil:
— How nervous you are, fuck me.

CURTAIN.

_________________________________________
*****************************************
  In the next issue:
     Les Poderevianskyi.
     A play for school theater
       "INTERESTING EXPERIMENTS"
  Characters:
 teacher Myron Opanasovych;
 teacher Zoia Zhorivna;
 pioneer Grisha;
 pioneer Misha;
 pioneer Vasya;
 pioneer Stasia;
 grade-repeater Nosenko, also a pioneer.
*****************************************

To be continued .........