Follow along with that madcap Buddy. It's fun!
(In a dressing room for the band)
You think I'm runnin' fifteen fuckin'...Close that door. (musician slams door) What kind of playing is being played here the past two nights? What is this? New phrasing, new bending, new sounds, no time! What the fuck do you think I'm running here? What kind of playing do you call this? What kinda shit is going on in the fuckin'...(turns to the bass player) What kinda, what kinda setting do you got on the bass tonight?
I feel that's fairly much English.
It's the same as I've always had out there.
What's with this, what's with the bending?
Your deciding is wrong!
I didn't do it on purpose. I...
You're deciding what kind of phrasing. You're deciding who and what the leader is. You're gonna watch who you wanna watch...(turns to the rest of the band). Everybody's on two weeks notice tonight. I'm telling you, everybody gets two weeks notice tonight. I can't handle this anymore. You all...(pauses thoughtfully) you're not my kind of people, at all. I don't understand this fuckin' kind of music at all. I don't understand what anybody is doing up there. I'm workin' my fuckin' ass off...(turns to a trumpet player) You put that fuckin' mouthpiece into that bell again, I'm gonna take your fuckin' horn and break it across my knee! Do you understand that?
I'll stay away, you can't hear a note though.
I can hear everything! I don't give a fuck what you hear. I hear it, and all I know is that you're blowin' my fuckin' eardrum out! (turns to the saxophones) The saxophones, you can play the flute, there's no sound in flutes. All I hear is noise. If you get any fuckin' closer you'll electrocute yourselves. What do you think I got a man with a sound system out there for? Sit down and play some fuckin' music! You afraid you won't be heard, is that it? I'll turn the motherfucker off all of you, then see what kind of a band you got up there, without all the assistance. You can't play shit! I'm accustomed to working with number one musicians. I'm not accustomed to working with half-assed fuckin' kids who think they wrote the fuckin' music business. You got a long way to go. You got a long way to go. Every one of you got a long fuckin' way to go. Do you understand what I'm sayin'? You can't play shit up there for me. What the fuck you're doin' up there doesn't deserve to be called a "name" band. The fuckin' kids out at the park there, they sounded fifty times better than any one of you! And that's without a rhythm section. Maybe they enjoy what they are doin' here. If you don't enjoy it here, fuck you! And get off my band. Or we can find other ways to settle it. I'm just so fuckin' tired of having to go through speeches with you guys. You're all a bunch of fuckin' children. There's not a man among you, not one man who can go out there and play the job like a man. You're all up there, fuckin' high school, bullshit jive artists. You jived me for the last fuckin' time. You got two sets to make up your fuckin' mind or I get me an all L.A. band tomorrow night. Don't think that's not impossible. It's very fuckin' possible. I've had it with you guys. I ought to give each one of you motherfuckers a cut in salary before I get out of this fuckin' room!
(Exit Buddy, slamming the door behind him)
Go to Act Two