Aren't we lucky cats to be viewing the world premiere reading of the first scene of my new play "Poor Cock Robin?" Now, I suppose I should fill in a little background. The play has about 4 to 6 actors. The main character is a wild cat 20 year old from rural Arkansas who has move out to Los Angeles for what other reason, but to be noticed. Would anyone live in LA if they weren't migrant workers or handsome kids trying to be noticed? Well, anyways the main character is Champ Money Kennedy III, A a name I sort of borrowed off a cousin of mine. Anyhoo, he falls in love with a girl from Iowa, Anna, who works in the adult film industry.
Now, the play begins sort of like Inception does, which is in the caverns of someone's brain theater, Champ is strolling through his drugged out consciousness-talking to his dead grandfather, auditioning for an avuncular producer, all the while reads a children book in the background. Well, turns he's on ketamine ( a drug I've never done, mind you, but fictionally it's interesting because people astral projection on) Anyways, dudes, he snaps out
Then. . . he's on a house on Laguna Beach at night time with a .45 pistol stuffed down the front of his. His girlfriends' rolling on the bed doing Maui beach yoga. The camera runs in the middle of this, but here you have the first scene of Poor Cock Robin--a dissassociative, 21st century love story with shit loads of gun play. Some one produce me. Special thanks to Wythe and Ashley for lending their spirits