Dominique De-Light

Coffeeshop Slam © Dominique De-Light 2006


 Characters


YOUTH:       White male, early twenties, dressed in hoody & gold chains, with 'black gansta' attitude.

 

GRANDMA:   Elderly Yorkshire woman

 

YOUTH ENTERS CAFE, LOOKS ROUND DISAPROVINGLY, IT'S OBVIOUSLY NOT WHAT HE EXPECTED.  HE APPROACHES THE COUNTER AND AN ELDERLY WOMAN WAITING TO BE SERVED. HE TAPS HER ON THE SHOULDER.

 

YOUTH:                 Yo grandma, where's the slam?

 

GRANDMA:            What's that young man?

 

YOUTH:                 The slam. You know, the MC t'ing.

                             Where's the blow, where's the bling?

                             Thought it going down here, see?

 

GRANDMA:            Sorry, boy, you've lost me.

 

YOUTH:                 (SUCKS TEETH) Man, old folk, make me wanna choke. (RAISES VOICE) MC Slam. Free-styling rappers, back chatting slang.


THROWS HANDS IN THE AIR, SHAKES HEAD

         

YOUTH:                 Granny's make jam, she ain't ever gonna understand.

 

GRANDMA:            No need for rudeness, young man.

 

YOUTH:                 Rude boy's my MC tag.

                             I ain't no toy, I'm real bad

                             (SUCKS TEETH) You're no joy

(FLICKS FINGERS AT HER) You're real sad!

 

                                       HE SLOUCHES TOWARDS THE DOOR

 

YOUTH                  (TO HIMSELF) Old biddy, silly slag.

 

                                      GRANDMA WHIPS ROUND

 

GRANDMA              (STERN) Stop right there boy!

 

                                      YOUTH STOPS & TURNS

 

GRANDMA              Just because I'm of pensionable age,

Don't mean to say I don't get in a rage.

You young folk really get my goat

Thinking we can't hear

Your whispered words

Well I tell you son,

This hearing aid

Picks up a swish of a skirt

 

YOUTH                  (IN SHOCK) You back chatting me, old lady?

 

GRANDMA              Back chat?

                             You'll eat my hat

                             When I finished with you.

                             I've had enough of the youth of today

                             Thinking they're the only ones with summat to say

 

YOUTH                  Grandma grandma chill

                             Calm yourself, take a valium pill

                             You're too old, rappers are young

They're bold, and black as the habit of a nun

You're way past retirement day

No longer fast, you're totally grey

 

GRANDMA:             Well as far as I can see

You're as white as white can be

 

YOUTH:                 Small t'ing, small t'ing, my skin is white

                             But I've got bling, my soul is black

                             And if Emininem can do it, I can make up a track

 

GRANDMA              You not watch the history channel then?

                             We're all from African DNA.

                             I'm older than you, I'm closer to the roots

                             You can't stop me, having my say.

 

YOUTH:                 Grandma, where's your white stick?

                            

(SHAKES HIS HEAD)

Why am I pandering to you, old bid?

Use your eyes. Look! You...Me

See? Style. Rap's street

Keeping it real. You're...you're just beat

 

GRANDMA:             You call it street style

                             I call it literary

                             You call it rapping

                             I call it poetry

 

YOUTH                  Horrors! You know nothing 'bout back chatting.

                             You probably think MC stands for...for...

                             (SEARCHING FOR THE WORDS) Mr Chaplain

 

GRANDMA              I watch the television young man

                             Got a lot of time on my hands

                             I see that MTV all the time

                             I like to watch them women

                             What they does call it?

                             W...i...n...e... (DOES A LITTLE SHIMMY OF THE HIPS)

 

YOUTH                  (DANCING IN AN MC FASHION)

Yeah, but rapping's a beat, you feel it in your soul

                             You feel it in your feet, you're way too old

                             To feel the stir, you know nothing of rhythm and scan.

                            

GRANDMA              (INTERUPTING) Eh, eh, young man!

                             You think you invented original verse?

                             Poetry was around

                             Long before you were nursed

                             I've read Keats, Milton, Kipling

                             Now they had rhythms

                             You'd call 'kicking'.

 

YOUTH:                 Why am I taking this from you?

                             Look at these folk, they ain't got a clue

                             They came for a joke and a coffee with friends

                             Look at that bloke, he knows nothing about MCing trends

                             Makes me sick the way they're looking at me

                             As if shit is all they see,

                             Rhyming takes skill and dedication

                             Time and constant application.

                             I might cause irritation, but they're hoping to see

                             Me imprisoned in a penitentiary. 

                   

GRANDMA              Calm down, calm down young man

                             You say you came for an MC slam

                             They don't do them here but

                             That don't mean to say

                             We can't play

                             With rhythms and scans and words and rhymes

                             I might be three times your age

                             But I've got time

 

YOUTH                  Old lady? Lay off, man!

                             I'm not listening, so talk to the hand

 

GRANDMA              Don't you see son?

                             That's just the point I'm trying to make

                             Rhythm and rhyme

Unite us in this place

I'm here, pension day, every week

If you fancy a verbal challenge

It's here I'll be.

 

YOUTH                  Granny, I don't know, it ain't easy

                             Jamming with you, my brethren see me

                             What they gonna do? It just ain't cool.

 

GRANDMA              You not heard of DJ Derek? You ever see him play?

YOUTH SHAKES HEAD

 

GRANDMA              The man warrants real merit,

                             He's sixty at least I'd say.

                             Plays reggae, hip hop and dancehall tunes

                             Accent's Jamaican to the core

Skin as white as the moon

                             Coolest thing going, always packs the dance floor

 

YOUTH                  Alright missus, I'll be here next week

                             I need a little practice, thinking on my feet

 

GRANDMA              Good lad.

                             I knew you'd see sense

 

                                      YOUTH OPENS DOOR, THEN TURNS BACK

 

YOUTH                  So old lady, what's your MC name?

 

GRANDMA              Let's see,

                             I'm old but I'm fast

                             I'm a whiz with the words

                             I speak in rhythm and rhymes

                             That can't be misheard

                             The old will laugh

                             The young will too

                             That's not gonna stop me

                             Doing what I do

                             MC Wonder! That's my name!

                             Because when I stand up

                             When I stand up! (CF: EMININEM TRACK)

                             They all wonder

                             What's her game?

 

YOUTH                  Right on grandma! (PUNCHES THE AIR)

 

GRANDMA              Right on son! (FIST IN THE AIR)

 

                                      YOUTH EXITS

 

GRANDMA KNOCKS ON THE COUNTER FOR SERVICE

 

GRANDMA              Ooooh, a coffee please

                             All that rhyming,

I'm weak at the knees.

 

 

 

THE END