White ViewMature

Act 3  

(Monday 12th November, a rather depressing Monday morning)  

Shaz: Alrite Graz, sit down. 

Greg: Graz? 

Daz: It’s your new name, honestly you can’t go round calling yourself Greg, it's embarrassing.

Greg: So y'all telling me, you’re changing my name without permission.

Shaz: Well nah dipshit, and drop the accent too it's embarrassing.

Greg: Okay first my name now my accent, what are you people trying to turn me into?

Shaz: Just helping you too fit with the locals.

Greg: But I don't want too, I want to be my own person!

Daz: Graz, shut the fuck up and put your uniform on.

Greg: Uniform?

 Shaz: That’s right you're going to school today.

Greg: What in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ…

Shaz: Graz drop the accent and you’re supposed to say what the fuck.

Greg: I can’t go to school, I don't know my way around, I don’t even know which school I'm going too.

Daz: Hang on... LAKE! 

(The Pitbull enters with a human body, a boy with a uniform on)

Greg: OH MY GOD!

Daz: I know, perfect fit.

Greg: NOT THAT, THERE'S A DEAD HUMAN BODY RIGHT IN FRONT OF Y'ALL!

 Daz: Chill out Bro.

Greg: CHILL!? I'M PHONING THE POILCE…

(Goes to phone) 

Greg: (dialling 999) HELLO, HELLO CAN YOU…

Voice over: The line you currently want is busy.

Greg: HOW CAN THE POLICE BE BUSY!?

Daz: It’s not like they’d do anything anyway.

Greg: Y'ALL DON'T SPEAK TO ME, YOU MURDERERS!

Shaz: Thanks, we try our best.

Greg: WHAT SORT OF TOWN IS THIS!?

Daz: Graz, calm the fuck down, and put on the uniform or I'll stab ya!

Greg (To himself): If I put on the uniform and act like them for a while, they'll let me go, then I can run to the Police station and then report them and then move away.

Greg: Okay, fine I'll put on the uniform, jut lost my head there. 

Shaz: That’s the spirit.

Greg: But what y'all gonna do with the carcass?

Daz: Throw it in a ditch like the others.

Greg: Others?

Daz: Graz, Graz, I know it may take a while to sink in, but I know that when I asked you to come, you would and you still will make us as a family look good in public.

(Greg puts on Uniform)

Greg: Just askin' do the school I'm going to know I'm coming.

Daz: No.

Shaz: Relax, just say you replaced this guy and you moved from another school.

Greg: But I don’t know his name.

(Daz pulls out bus pass from the dead boy's blazer)

Daz: He were called John Smith, just say he moved to Africa.

Greg: And how exactly do I introduce myself?

Daz: Fucking hell, just say you're my cousin from Manchester.

Greg: Manchester?

Daz: As said you need to drop the accent, and no one can know you're from America it would fucking ruin my street cred if that got out.

Greg: This blazer says this boy was from White View…

Daz: Oh that posh school, it's not far, all you have to do is walk through Mortdale Park and you're there.

Greg: Perfect, well I'm off.

Shaz: See you later Bab, oh and if you come home early, or get expelled, we woe mind.

(Greg leaves the house and runs past a poster advertising a charity parade for sick African children that has been urinated on… and bumps into a group of locals)

Greg: Cuse me, but y’all know where the police Station is?

Local 1: The fuck? You wanker.

Local 2: Why the fuck, would you wanna see the police?

Local 3: Let’s shut him up, he ay one of us, listen to his fucking accent!

Local 1: And his wearing a White View uniform!

(They produce knives Greg runs right into Mortdale park where more Locals join the “Fun” and Pitbull's join in, Greg is about to be hunted and killed when a hand pulls him into a tree) 

Local 2: Where the fuck did he go?

Local 1: Never mind we'll get him next time.

(They walk off) 

Greg: Thank y’all (He says this to his saviour, a boy that is wearing the same school uniform as him, with brown hair and grey eyes, slighter taller than Greg in height, right now they are both crouched in the tree)

Boy: What on earth, are you doing?

Greg: What

Boy: Dressing like that, speaking like that,You're going to get yourself killed.

Greg: For what? Being myself…

Boy: For not being a chav.

Greg: For not being a what…

Boy: Chav it's what almost everyone is here. Stands for Council House and Violence.

Greg: And who are you exactly?

Boy: Name's George (They shake hands) 

George: And you are?

Greg: Greg, Greg Winters

George: From the accent I'm guessing you're from southern USA.

Greg: Yeah, I was from Alabama had a Charmin' little life until…

(He explains his parents death and move to England)

Greg: … so now I'm on my way to the police station to report my cousin, I mean there insane!

George: Yeah well the thing with that, is that the police are worthless.

Greg: They can't be, they have to do summit about it! 

George What? Never seen lax Police or Chavs back in twinkle town?

Greg: St. Louisville, and no I haven't seen lax Police before.

George: Never seen a thug before then? 

Greg: Well yeah I have, thugs and gangsters and trailer trash, but not even the worst of them have tried to kill  me on the spot! 

George: Well you're screwed, because the situation in this country is helpless.

Greg: Please explain.

George: Well the government in this country is too soft on law- breakers so they run wild and free, and the people that make these laws are too spineless to stop it, and so if the police actually try some discipline than they’ll be punished.

Greg: What?

George: Basically you’re in a fucked up society, where the wrong Morales will get you everywhere in life.

Greg: How can being a murderer or having sex parties get you far in life?

George: Killing, drugs, drinking and smoking are cool, and cool is the way of life here, it’s just the way it works, drug dealing gets you money, being a bully gets you a girlfriend and street cred, and earning benefits saves you getting a proper job, all you need to do in life around here.

Greg: And can you please describe a chav for me?

George: A chav is a booming species located mainly in England. Male chavs tend to wear caps, smoke weed, and kill anyone who isn't a fellow chav; their anger is mainly taken out on people, but if that fails, it will take its anger out on the local bus stop, via graffiti or burning. Male chavs hunt in large groups, and are easily avoided because there loud banter, constant use of swear words and stench of booze and weed give victims a warning to a male chav's approach.

Greg: And is that all I need to know?

George: No, Male chav's are easily spotted via hoodies, chain wearing, and the use of the over the top gangster accents, they also tend to be stick thin, and there weakness comes when they are alone, where they are silent and vulnerable.

Greg: Okay.

George: The female chav is usually obese, or stick thin, with tightly tied up hair and huge earrings, like the male chav it is easy to identify, owing to its loud banter and ability to travel in groups. Female chav’s tend to start mating at the age of 11 or 12…

Greg: WHAT!

George: Can I finish?

Greg: Sorry.

George: Anyhow the female chav will have 7 to 20 babies during its lifetime, and female chavs are usually seen smoking, and drinking while raising several chav babies, to become fully fledged chavs, a chav mother's dream is to see it’s babies grow up to receive ASBO’S, Sentences in jail, and up to 100 grand kids.

Greg: So that’s how there are so many of them.

George: They breed fast and in great numbers, any chav can be found near council buildings or near the bus stop, by the Jobcentre, in Da club, or in a local park. Male chav's  job is to murder as many non-chav's as possible and impregnate as many girls as possible. While a female chav's main function is to raise many chav babies to keep the chav races going. All while living lazily under their own roof, the benefits keep the chav's from going to work, and before you ask, the chav's receive benefits by faking disability or having 20 kids, and yes the money they spend goes to booze and fags for themselves.

 Greg: Wait y’all not a chav.

George: I have my own reasons for being different. 

Greg: What are those?

George: It doesn't matter, what does matter is that the second you jump out of this tree you'll die.

Greg: Well help me, I'm new I don’t know what to do.

George: You're asking me to put my life on the line, to protect a dead weight like you… yeah okay, see ya later kid…

Greg: WAIT!

George: Will you pipen down! I've told you what a chav is already, use that info!

Greg: Just help me please… just for a little while… until I get my bearings. 

(George sighs)

George: Well…just because I'm feeling generous today… I’ll help you.

Greg: Oh, this is so nice y’all I have a buddy already!

George: Don't rub it in.

Greg: So what do I do?

George: Okay for one drop the accent, two make your uniform scruffy like mine, and three keep your head down, in society you are lower than a chav...

Greg: Well that was kinda obvious.

George: You learn fast… nice addition of the cap by the way… it’s not chavvy but looks gangster if you get me.

Greg: It was my papa's it's been passed down on the male side of my family for generations the star is meant to represent how we as Winters are stars in our own individual way…

George: Whatever looks G-star-ish to me, and all that crap.

Greg: (irritated): Hey! this cap means a great deal…

George: Whatever, it's important… and so is your life, now listen to me if you try raising your head, or smiling or being happy you can be severely punished.

Greg: So I have to be miserable.

George: Yes, do nothing out of line, keep grey and miserable, the chav's wallow in this atmosphere, and don’t trust anyone who looks like a chav and tries to be friendly 99 per cent of the time, their tricking you the end result, will be humiliation beyond your wildest dreams.

Greg: I hate my life.

George: Join the club now let’s go (Greg follows George’s lead) 

Greg: So I'm new and all... and I was wondering if you…

George: (Hissing): Drop the fucking accent!

Greg: Oh, I mean, yeah so I'm fucking new round here (to passing chavs) what you looking at!?

George: Brilliant you're becoming a natural.

(They walk on until…) 

Greg: So um, is that da school?

George: Yes this is White View.

(Cut to White View Secondary School, it looks like any other school with people flooding in) 

George: Just remember my instructions.

Greg: Cousin Daz said I had to be from Manchester.

George: Yes say that, it will cover your you're an american.

 (They enter as the bell rings)

George: I need to go to lesson .

Greg: What about me!

 George: Go to hall, and say you’re new, relax they'll sort you out, into classes and give you books, and all that stuff don't worry they don't expect you too last long like the last 10 newbies.

Greg: 10! 

George: That was for last week.

Greg: Oh god help me.

George: I'm helping you, if you can survive till lunchtime, I’ll give you a tour around the school.

Greg: (Sarcastically) I can’t wait.

George: Well I’d better go, and Greg stop looking at me like that it’s rude.

Greg: You said look miserable.

George: Yes but that look is just-well- rude can you stop it.

Greg: Alrite.

(They set off) 

(Greg enters hall) 

Greg: Hello!

(A teacher in her late 50’s emerges)

Miss Noel: I am Miss Noel.

(Another teacher emerges in his late 50’s) 

Mr Redwood: (In deep slow voice) and- I –am-Mr-Redwood-head-of-White-View-school-I-expect-you-are-new-here?

Greg: Yes I'm… 

(Mr Redwood chucks a mountain of books at him as well as a bag)

 Mr Redwood: That-will-get-you-though-the-school-year-not-that-you’ll-last-that-long.

Greg: Do you greet everyone like this?

Mr Redwood: No-need-for- attitude.

(Greg turns to leave)

Miss Noel: Uniform.

Greg: What…? (Next second, Miss Noel is inspecting him like a pigeon)  

Miss Noel: (Snapping) top button, UP! UP! Shirt tucked in NOW! Blazer on! Now!

(Greg is left standing, like a total nerd) 

Miss Noel: Good. (She walks off)

Greg: Err... do I have to keep my uniform like this?

Mr Redwood: Yes-and-I-expect-you-to-keep-it-that-way.

Greg: Alrighty then.

Mr Redwood- Well-off-to-tutor-I’ll-show-you-there.

 (They walk the Corridors and eventually they stop at a classroom and enter)

(The Class inside falls silent, Things thrown in Mid-air stop and fall to the ground, a woman is stuck in a cage dangling off the ceiling; the main teacher is flustered and clearly failing to control an out of control class, objects are strewn everywhere as Greg enters, fights grind to a halt, the shouting stops, a girl and a boy having sex in the corner slowly stop, a gang of chavs drop a nerdy boy they were about to drop out the window, and slowly the class begins to turn to the new arrival that is Greg, Greg spots George sheltering under a desk). 

Mr Redwood: Year-11-here-is-your-new-classmate-be-nice-to-him.

(Everyone is staring at Greg, he managed to make his uniform scruffy on the way to the class and he introduces himself)

Greg: Hi y'all I'm Greg.

 (The Class is gawping at him he looks at George) 

~George Face palm~ 

(Greg suddenly remembers George’s earlier warnings regarding his accent)

Greg: I-mean- I mean howdy…

(George is now burying his face in his hands)

Mr Redwood (quietly): Well-another-one-bites-the-dust.

Greg: What?

Mr Redwood: Nothing.

(Main Teacher approaches)

Miss Lofty: Hello I'm Miss Lofty, you’re new tutor 

Greg: Well... nice to meet you.

Mr Redwood: Have-fun-Greg.

(As Soon as the door closes and Mr Redwood leaves the class erupts into pandemonium as Miss Lofty runs off trying to save her equipment from destruction a group of chavs charge at Greg knives shining, Greg runs for it as the chavs give chase)

Greg: HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

Chavs: KILL THE FUCKING COWBOY!

(One of them slashes a knife, which sends equipment flying everywhere in the distraction Greg manages to dive under a table and out of sight)

Chav: Where the fuck did he get to?

Miss Lofty (gazing at her destroyed equipment): OI! THAT’S MY PEN! (She tries to apply CPR to the pen as it oozes ink) 

Helpless Women in cage: Someone help me please…

Greg (holding his breath and praying in a whisper): Please Lord God, don’t let them find me… don’t let them find me…(Just then the bell rings and the class pauses)

Miss Lofty: EVERYONE IT'S BREAK-TIME! 

(The class rush for the door like rhinoceros, Greg waits until the class is empty before cautiously coming out from under the table… George does the same and approaches him)

George: What did I tell you about the accent?

Greg; I'm sorry it, just slipped out!

George: Well there's nothing I can do for you now, you are as good as dead, nice knowing you… 

Greg: George please…

George: I can’t help you.

Greg: PLEEEEEASSEEE!

George: Greg, listen to me, you are not the first newbie I have tried to save and you won’t be the last. I've lost more kids than I can count,by trying to save them... but no, they always end up in a ditch somewhere, or with a knife in their back, why should I put more effort into at the cost of my own life?

Greg: Please just please help, I don’t wanna die.

George: It's hopeless… (Greg frowns)

George:…but then again, so is my mission to try and save people, I'll try to help.

Greg: Thank you!

George: Please don't celebrate the fact, you hillbilly.

Greg: Oh this is great! So where too?

George: It's time to meet your fellow peers... 

The End

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