Thurston Moore, Morrissey, and Henry Rollins walk into a bar

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Thurston Moore, Henry Rollins and Morrissey

INT: SAINT VITUS BAR IN GREENPOINT BROOKLYN

Morrissey is sitting at the bar with a surgical mask on his face. Thurston Moore and Henry Rollins walk in. Henry is carrying a duffel bag. They both sit down next to Morrissey. It’s sunny outside, but the bar is dark and morose inside. At The Gates’ Slaughter of the Soul is playing on the stereo.

MORRISSEY
Why the hell did you ask me to come here? It’s filthy.
I think I’m getting Ebola just from sitting here.

THURSTON MOORE
Are you kidding? I love this place. They always play
some of my favorite metal albums. Besides, if we’re
spotted here, Pitchfork is sure to write a news post about it.

HENRY ROLLINS
You hear about Robin Williams?
So sad man, that dude was awesome.

MORRISSEY
Fuck that wanker! Only a pussy commits suicide!

THURSTON & HENRY (TOGETHER)
WHOA!

MORRISSEY
I mean, seriously mates, who does that when they
still have a family at home?

HENRY ROLLINS
I can see that, but depression is a dark beast.

THURSTON
It’s ironic you mention dark beasts, that’s the title of
my new black metal album.

HENRY
Ironic or coincidental?

A man behind the bar with a dark long beard—the “metal” kind of beard, not the “hipster” kind—asks if they’d like a drink.

THURSTON
I’ll have a Brooklyn Lager and whatever these guys are having.

Morrissey pulls out a glass from his messenger bag.

MORRISSEY
Can you give me an organic ginger beer? Please don’t
open it, I’ll take care of it.

(to Thurston & Henry)
Ginger is one of the best things you can eat when
you’re feeling under the weather you know.

BARTENDER
Seagram’s ok?

MORRISSEY
(Sigh) Isn’t this fucking Brooklyn? I can’t step into a
fucking store and buy anything other than organic fucking everything,
but when I try to order a God-damned organic ginger beer from a bar
it’s like I’m asking the fucking Queen of England to make a scat video.

THURSTON
Whoa man, I did not see you taking it that way.
Are you always this angry?

MORRISSEY
I know, I know. I don’t know why I’m like this. It’s like I spent
all of my 20s singing songs for sad kids, I guess I never
let out all of my pent-up rage.

HENRY
You know what’s good for pent up-rage? Eating rats.
Ever eat a rat, Mor?

THURSTON
Oooh, that’s a good idea for the cover of my new black metal album.

HENRY
Seriously? Don’t you hate that misogynistic, fake devil-worshipping bullshit?

THURSTON
Do you work for Jezebel?

HENRY
Huh?

THURSTON
Never mind.

HENRY
Whatever man, don’t steal my ideas.

Henry reaches into his duffel bag and pulls out a dumbbell and starts lifting it while sitting at the bar.

HENRY
Besides, black metal is made by pussies of the lowest order.

MORRISSEY
You mean supporting acts?

All three laugh uncontrollably.

MORRISSEY
But seriously, why did you ask me to meet you here again?

THURSTON
Shhh, wait, I think that guy works for Pitchfork. Act nonchalant.

All three begin fake talking to each other.

THURSTON
Ugh, never mind, it’s just Brooklyn Vegan.

END

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