POLICE STATION/JAIL ROOM
(Come here first (they all say): it is the best theater.)

	Omar with the rumbly laugh, Omar who air-guitared the knife, waits at his desk.

Cue the soldiers.  The soldier approaches Omar: Sir, we 
want to set up a tip-line.  The people will be our 
eyes.  	How dare

you interrupt me says Omar. In the play you have to play hard
to get.  

Ali, thin as a wasp, role-playing O.’s guard, has the gun raised, barrel 
to eye.  Please

lay it away, says the soldier. Who made you
king? asks O. Clicks the room, disengages 
the lever.  Cue 

the lights.  The lights are the signal for Ralia, beautiful and peached-faced, the bored half-
laughing R. in the prison, to crack 

a scream; inqaathni rescue 
me.  The wasp makes the scream
stop.  

The soldiers do not know what to do with the not-
tamed  air, the R-
mute air.  O. is playing 

hard to get.  He says: It is normal. It is natural.  You 
can beat her with me.

	A soldier shocks out of his chair, while we’re talking please can you not
engage in physical activity
Another soldier shocks up 	We want to see 
the person back there we want to see her condition	O. turns up 
the juice you can’t let them in
your pants 	No one made you
king here 	the wasp clicks 	the room clicks 	send them through
	the door send them back

in the door re-
load. 	 	They smile at O. with bright 
cautious eyes	It is sure hot 
today they say.  Sure, it is hot says O.  Its nothing like where we
came from in Ohio.
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