the life of a goth.

The room is dark, lit only by a circle of candles on the floor.

BRIAN, a 19 year old Goth studying Politics, enters his dorm for the first time. Present is another Goth, sat in the middle of the circle of candles.

BRIAN: Uh, hello?
DAVE: Quiet young child, I am contacting the dead.
BRIAN: How?
DAVE: The candles, the dead can’t resist them. They call out to the dead, like a siren…
BRIAN: [pause] …I don’t hear anything.
DAVE: That’s ‘cause you’re not dead, only the dead can hear them.
BRIAN: I never knew candles did that.
DAVE: It’s common knowledge to the children of darkness.
BRIAN: Children of darkness?
DAVE: Yes child, the children of darkness.

BRIAN looks into the darkness.

BRIAN: So you’re saying the darkness… impregnates people?
DAVE: Don’t be so stupid, does it look like it impregnates people?
BRIAN: I don’t know, maybe, it always has that menacing look.

DAVE stands up and looks at BRIAN for the first time.

DAVE: Ah, I see you too are a child of darkness.
BRIAN: I’m a child of Cassandra.
DAVE: Ah yes, the Goddess of Menace, she alone who causes death and destruction among the human race, the unholy of all that is…
BRIAN: Actually, Cassandra is my mum’s name.

DAVE looks blankly at BRIAN.

BRIAN: What’s your name?

DAVE chuckles to himself.

DAVE: My name? I go by many names… Child of Darkness, Sötétség, Black Hope… a combination of those three… what’s your name child of Cassandra?
BRIAN: It’s Brian.
DAVE: Brian? That is not a suitable name… Hang on.

DAVE rummages through a large pile of old books.

DAVE: Ah yes, my Transylvanian Dictionary – pocket size. Yes… your new name will be… Executare! Yes, that is perfect.
BRIAN: But… I like Brian.
DAVE: No Executare, Brian is a name of the feeble. Executare is a much better name.
BRIAN: I don’t think my mum will be happy.
DAVE: That matters not. Come, we have work to do.
BRIAN: Like what?
DAVE: Contacting the dead of course, what else?
BRIAN: How will we do that?
DAVE: I just told you! Candles!
BRIAN: So the candles call the dead?
DAVE: Yes?
BRIAN: Do they have the dead’s phone number?
DAVE: You don’t really get it, do you?
BRIAN: I don’t see why we’re calling the dead, I mean, what if they’re busy?
DAVE: The dead aren’t busy, they endlessly roam the afterlife. Us calling them will probably brighten up their day.
BRIAN: How can you brighten up a dead person’s day?
DAVE: Well, I’ve got some Oreos they could have.
BRIAN: Do the dead like Oreos?
DAVE: Of course they do, Oreos are the food of the dead. When you die, your last meal is Oreos and milk before you travel the River Styx to the afterlife.
BRIAN: So Death likes Oreos?
DAVE: No, he can’t twist them. I guess the milk is good for his bones though.