Martin McDonagh, The Lieutenant of Inishmore, scenes 1 and 2 Martin McDonagh was born in London in 1970; his parents

were Irish. His 2001 play is about an Irish terrorist fighting to free Northern Ireland of English rule who is utterly indifferent to human suffering but since boyhood has adored his cat. McDonagh plays on the absurdities and incongruities of fanaticism, humorously presenting even scenes of torture and violent bloodshed. The play, the beginning of which is excerpted here, eventually ends in carnage, with corpses, body parts, and blood covering the stage.

Characters Donny, mid-forties. Padraics father. From Inishmore. Davey, seventeen. Slightly overweight, long hair. From Inishmore. Padraic, twenty-one. Handsome. From Inishmore. Mairead, sixteen. Cropped hair, pretty. Daveys sister. From Inishmore. James, twenties/thirties. Northern Irish. Christy, thirties/forties. Northern Irish. Brendan, twenty. Northern Irish. Joey, twenty. Northern Irish. The play is set in 1993 on the island of Inishmore, County Galway. >> note 1

Scene One A cottage on Inishmore1 circa 1993. Front door in centre of back wall, a window to its left and right. Exit stage left to a bathroom, unseen, an open area forward right to signify another room. A clock somewhere on back wall along with a framed piece of embroidery reading Home Sweet Home. Cupboards left and right, a telephone on one of them. A couple of armchairs near the back wall and a table centre, on which, as the play begins, lies a dead black cat, its head half missing. Donny, the middle-aged owner of the house, and Davey, a long-haired, slightly pudgy neighbour of seventeen, stand staring quietly at this cat for a few moments. Davey Do you think hes dead, Donny? Pause. Donny picks up the limp dead cat. Bits of its brain plop out. Donnylooks across at Davey and puts the cat back down again. Donny Aye. Davey He might be in a coma. Would we ring the vet? Donny Its more than a vet this poor feck needs. Davey If he gave him an injection? Donny (pause) Have this injection, you!

Donny steps back and kicks Davey up the arse.

Davey(almost crying) What was that fer?! Donny How many times have people told you, hairing down that bastarding hill on that bastarding bicycle? Davey I didnt touch the poor fella, I swear it! In the road I saw him lying . . . ! Donny In the road me arsehole! DaveyAnd I wasnt hairing at all, I was going slow. And a black lump ahead in the road I saw, and what the devils that, I said to meself. . . Donny After youd rode over him, aye, and then probably reversed! Davey Ahead in the road, Im saying, and dont be slinging reversed at me. Donny Ill be slinging what I like! DaveyAnd I was off me bike be that time anyway and just wheeling it along, and when I saw it was Wee Thomas didnt I scoop him up and run him into you as quick as me legs could carry me? Donny The first thing the books say is dont be moving an accident victim till professional fecking help arrives, and a fool knows that! Davey Well, I dont be reading books on cats being knocked down, Donny! Donny Well, maybe you should, now . . . Davey Because there are no such books! Donny . . . And maybe Thomas would still be with us then. Davey A car it must have been clobbered him. Donny No cars have been down that road all day, and when do cars ever come down that road? Youre the only bastard comes down that lonely road and why? Because youre a cowshite eejit with nothing better to do than roar down roads on your mams bicycle for no reason other than to feel the wind in that girls mop o hair of yours! Davey If youre insulting me hair again, Donny Osbourne, Ill be off right this minute. After going out of me way to bring your cat in to you . . . Donny After squashing the life out of me cat, and he isnt my cat at all . . . Davey So as not to let the oul flies be picking the meat off him. A favour I was doing you. Donny Its a favour now! With half of that cats head poking out of the spokes of your wheels, Ill bet, and its a favour youre doing me! Davey stares at Donny a moment, then darts out through the front door.Donnygoes over to the cat and strokes it sadly, then sits in the armchair stage left, looking at the cats blood on his hands. Davey returns a few moments later, dragging his mums bicycle in through the door. It is pink, with small wheels and a basket. He brings it right over for Donny to see, raises its front wheel so that its almost in Donnys face, and starts slowly spinning it. Davey Now wheres your cats head? Eh? Now wheres your cats head?

Donny (depressed) Scraping it off on the way wouldnt have been a hard job. Davey Theres no cats head on that bicycle wheel. Not even a stain, nor the comrade of a stain, and the state of Wee Tommy youd have had lumps of brain pure dribbling. Donny Put your bicycle out of me face, now, Davey. Davey Poor Wee Thomass head, a bicycle wouldnt do damage that decent. Damage that decent youd have to go out of your way to do. Donny Your bicycle out of me face, Im saying, or itll be to your head therell be decent damage done. Davey leaves the bike at the front door. Davey Either a car or a big stone or a dog youd need to do that decent damage. And youd hear a dog. Donny And youd hear a car. Davey (pause) Youd probably hear a big stone too. It depends on how big and from what distance. Poor Wee Thomas. I did like him, I did. Which is more than I can say for most of the cats round here. Most of the cats round here I wouldnt give a penny for. Theyre all full of themselves. Like our Maireads cat. Youd give him a pat, hed outright sneer. But Wee Thomas was a friendly cat. He would always say hello to you were you to see him sitting on a wall. (Pause.) He wont be saying hello no more, God bless him. Not with that lump of brain gone. (Pause.) And you havent had him long at all, have you, Donny? Wasnt he near brand new? Donny He isnt my fecking cat at all is what the point of the fecking matter is, and you know full well. Davey I dont know full well. What . . . ? Donny Only fecking looking after the bastard I was the year. Davey Who were you fecking looking after him for, Donny? Donny Who do you think? Davey (pause) Donny Not what? Davey (with horror) Donny Aye. Davey No! Donny Why else would I be upset? I dont get upset over cats! Davey Not your Padraic?! Donny Aye, my Padraic. Davey Oh Jesus Christ, Donny! Not your Padraic in the INLA?! Donny Do I have another fecking Padraic? Not your . . . not your . . . Not . . . not . . .

Davey Wee Thomas is his? Donny And was his since he was five years old. His only friend for fifteen year. Brought him out to me when he started moving about the country bombing places and couldnt look after him as decent as he thought needed. His only friend in the world, now. Davey Was he fond of him? Donny Of course he was fond of him. Davey Oh hell be mad. Donny He will be mad. Davey As if he wasnt mad enough already. Padraics mad enough for seven people. Dont they call him Mad Padraic? Donny They do. Davey Isnt it him the IRA wouldnt let in because he was too mad? Donny It was. And he never forgave them for it. Davey Maybe hes calmed down since hes been travelling. Donny They tell me hes gotten worse. I can just see his face after he hears. And I can just see your face too, after he hears your fault it was. I can see him plugging holes in it with a stick. Davey (dropping to his knees) Oh please, Donny, I swear to God it wasnt me. Dont be saying my name to him, now. Sure, Padraic would kill you for sweating near him, let alone this. Didnt he outright cripple the poor fella laughed at that girly scarf he used to wear, and that was when he was twelve?! Donny His first cousin too, that fella was, never minding twelve! And then pinched his wheelchair! Davey Please now, Donny, you wont be mentioning my name to him? Donny gets up and ambles around. Davey stands also. Donny If you admit it was you knocked poor Thomas down, Davey, I wont tell him. If you carry on that it wasnt, then I will. Them are your choices. Davey But it isnt fecking fair, Donny! Donny I dont know if it is or it isnt. Davey I knew well I shouldve up and ignored the bastard when I saw him lying there, for if a black cat crossing your path is bad luck, what must one of the feckers lying dead in front of you be? Worse luck. I killed Wee Thomas so, if thats what you want to hear. Donny How? Davey How? However you fecking want, sure! I hit him with me bike, then I banged him with a hoe, then I jumped up and down on the feck! Donny You hit him with your bike, uh-huh, I suspected. But an accident it was? Davey An accident, aye. A pure fecking accident.

Donny Well . . . fair enough if an accident is all it was. Davey (pause) Donny I wont be. Davey Good-oh. (Pause.) Whenll you be informing him of the news? Donny Ill give him a ring in a minute now. He has a mobile. Davey Hell be furious. Donny Ill tell him . . . Ill tell him Wee Thomas is poorly, Ill tell him. Aye . . . Davey Sure hell know hes more than poorly, Donny, when he sees them brains bubbling away . . . Donny Hes poorly but theres no need to be rushing home, Im saying . . . Davey Im with you now, Donny . . . Donny Do you get me? Hes just a tadeen off his food, like, Ill tell him. And in a week Ill say hes going downhill a biteen. And in another week Ill say he passed away peaceful in his sleep, like. Davey Youll be letting him down easy. Donny Ill be letting him down easy. Davey You wont give him the bad news all at once. Youll do it in stages, like. Donny The last thing we want is Padraic roaring home to a dead cat, now. Davey Oh Donny, thats the last thing in the world youd want. Donny Thats the last thing youd want too. Youre the bastard brained him, youve admitted. Davey goes to say something but doesnt, just squirms. Donny Eh? Davey Aye, aye, I am the bastard . . . (mumbling) for fecks sake . . . Donny Ill give him a ring now, I will. Davey (mumbling) Give him a ring now, for your fecking self, aye, ya feck. Donny stands there biting his bottom lip. Davey goes to the door and picks up his bike. Davey Drove on a-fecking-head I shouldve, I knew! Im too kind to little things is my fecking trouble! Donny picks up the telephone, staring at the cat. Donny Oh Wee Tommy, you poor beggar. As fecked up as you are, it mightnt be long till were just as fecked up as you if that lube turns up. Just as fecked up? Twice as fecked up is more like. Davey Three times as fecked up probably, Donny, or maybe four times? So you wont be mentioning my name so?

Donny Be fecking off home you, ya cat brainer. Davey I will. And Ill be braining some more cats on me way home, cos its me fecking hobby now, so it is. Donny (absently) Dont be braining any more cats, now. Davey sighs, rolls his eyes to the ceiling and wheels his bike out. Donnystarts dialling a number slowly, sadly. Fade to black.

Scene Two A desolate Northern Ireland warehouse or some such. James, a bare-chested, bloody and bruised man, hangs upside down from the ceiling, his feet bare and bloody. Padraics idles near him, wielding a cut-throat razor, his hands bloody. Around Padraics chest are strapped two empty holsters and there are two handguns on a table stage left. James is crying. Padraic James? (Pause.) James?

James (sobbing) Wha? Padraic Do you know whats next on the agenda?

James I dont. And I dont want to know. Padraic girl. I know well you dont, you big feck. Look at the state of you, off bawling like some fool of a

James Is a fella not supposed to bawl so, you take his fecking toenails off him? Padraic (pause) Dont be saying feck to me, James . . . James Im sorry, Padraic . . . Padraic Or youll make me want to give you some serious bother, and not just be tinkering with you.

James Is toenails off just tinkering with me, so? Padraic It is.

James Oh, its just fecking tinkering with me toenails off is . . . Padraic James Hanley, dont keep going on about your stupid fecking toenails! The way you talk it sounds as if I took off a rake of them, when it was only two I took off, and them only small ones. If theyd been big ones I could understand, but they werent. They were small. Youd hardly notice them gone. And if it was so concerned you were about the health of them toenails it wouldve been once in a while you cleaned out the muck from under them. James Well, youve saved me that job for good now anyways. Padraic If I hadnt been such a nice fella I wouldve taken one toenail off of separate feet, but I didnt, I took two toenails off the one foot, so that its only the one foot youll have to be limping on and not the two. If it had been the two youdve found it a devil to be getting about. But with the pain concentrated on the one, if you can get hold of a crutch or a decent stick, Im not sure if the General Hospital does hand them out but they might do, I dont know. You could phone them up and ask, or go in and see them would be the best thing, and make sure them toes wont be going septic at the same time. I didnt

disinfect this razor at all, I never do, I see no need, but theyd be the best people to ask, sure theyre the experts. Youll probably need a tetanus jab too, oh theres no question. I do hate injections, I do. I think Id rather be slashed with a razor than have an injection. I dont know why. Of course, Id rather have neither. Youll have had both by the end of the day. What a bad day youve had. (Pause.) But, em . . . I have lost me train of thought now, so I have. James Youve lost your train of thought? Uh-huh. As slow as that fecking train is, and youve lost it? Padraic (pause) The next item on the agenda is which nipple of yours do you want to be saying goodbye to. The right or the left? James No, now. Come on, now . . . ! Padraic Be picking, Im saying! Whichevers your favourite nipple I wont be touching that fella at all, Ill be concentrating on the other. Ill be giving him a nice sliceen and then probably be feeding him to ya, but if you dont pick and pick quick itll be both of the boys youll be waving goodbye to, and waving goodbye to two tits when theres no need but to wave goodbye to one makes no sense at all as far as I can see. In my eyes, like. In fact its the mark of a madman. So be picking your nipple and well get the ball rolling, for I have better things to do with me time than to be hanging around warehouses cutting your nipples off, James Hanley. James (crying) But Ive done nothing at all to deserve nipples off, Padraic!

Padraic Oh, lets not be getting into the whys and wherefores, James. You do push your filthy drugs on the schoolchildren of Ireland, and if you concentrated exclusive on the Protestants Id say all well and good, but you dont, you take all comers. James Marijuana to the students at the Tech I sell, and at fair rates . . . ! Padraic Keeping our youngsters in a drugged-up and idle haze, when its out on the streets pegging bottles at coppers they should be. James Sure, everybody smokes marijuana nowadays. Padraic I dont!

James Well, maybe you should! It might calm you down! Padraic Be picking your nipple, Im saying!

James Paul McCartney says it should be outright legalised! He says its less bad than booze and it cures epileptics! Padraic Say goodbye to them both so.

James He has statistics, Padraic! Padraic approaches him quickly with the razor. James The right one! The right one! Padraic takes Jamess right tit in his hand so that the nipple points out, and is just about to slice it off . . . Padraic Grit your teeth, James. This may hurt.

James (screaming) No . . . !

. . . when the cellphone in Padraics back pocket rings loudly. Padraic Will you hang on there a minute, James . . . ?

Padraic answers the phone, idling away from James, who is left shaking and whimpering behind him. (Into phone.) Hello? Dad, ya bastard, how are you? (To James.) Its me dad. (Pause.) Im grand indeed, Dad, grand. How is all on Inishmore? Good-oh, good-oh. Im at work at the moment, Dad, was it important now? Im torturing one of them fellas pushes drugs on wee kids, but I cant say too much over the phone, like . . . James (crying) Marijuana, Padraic.

Padraic They are terrible men, and its like they dont even know they are, when they know well. They think theyre doing the world a favour, now. (Pause.) I havent been up to much else, really. I put bombs in a couple of chip shops, but they didnt go off. (Pause.) Because chip shops arent as well guarded as army barracks. Do I need your advice on planting bombs? (Pause.) I was pissed off, anyways. The fella who makes our bombs, hes fecking useless. I think he does drink. Either they go off before youre ready or they dont go off at all. One thing about the IRA anyways, as much as I hate the bastards, youve got to hand it to them, they know how to make a decent bomb. (Pause.) Sure, why would the IRA be selling us any of their bombs? They need them themselves, sure. Those bastardsd charge the earth anyways. Ill tell ya, Im getting pissed off with the whole thing. Ive been thinking of forming a splinter group. (Pause.) I know were already a splinter group, but theres no law says you cant splinter from a splinter group. A splinter group is the best kind of group to splinter from anyways. It shows you know your own mind (Whispering.), but theres someone in the room, Dad, I cant be talking about splinter groups. (To James, politely.) Ill be with you in a minute now, James. James shudders slightly. Padraic What was it you were ringing about anyways, Dad?

Pause. Padraics face suddenly becomes very serious, eyes filling with tears. Eh? What about Wee Thomas? (Pause.) Poorly? How poorly, have you brought him to the doctor? (Pause.) How long has he been off his food, and why didnt you tell me when it first started? (Pause.) Hes not too bad? Either hes poorly or hes not too bad now, Dad, hes either one or the fecking other, theres a major difference, now, between not too bad and fecking poorly, he cannot be the fecking two at fecking once, now, (Crying heavily.) and you wouldnt be fecking calling me at all if he was not too bad, now! What have you done to Wee Thomas now, you fecking bastard? Put Wee Thomas on the phone. Hes sleeping? Well, put a blanket on him and be stroking and stroking him and get a second opinion from the doctor and dont be talking loud near him and Ill be home the first fecking boat in the fecking morning. Ar, you fecker, ya! Padraic smashes the phone to pieces on the table, shoots the pieces a few times, then sits there crying quietly. Pause. James Is anything the matter, Padraic? Padraic Me cats poorly, James. Me best friend in the world, he is.

James Whats wrong with him? Padraic I dont know, now. Hes off his food, like.

James Sure thats nothing to go crying over, being off his food. He probably has ringworm. Padraic Ringworm? Is that serious, now?

James Sure, ringworm isnt serious at all. Just get him some ringworm pellets from the chemist and feed them him wrapped up in a bit of cheese. They dont like the taste of ringworm pellets, cats, so if you hide them in a bit of cheese hell eat them unbeknownst and never know the differ, and hell be as right as rain in a day or two, or at the outside three. Just dont exceed the stated dose. Yknow, read the instructions, like. Padraic How do you know so much about ringworm?

James Sure, dont I have a cat of me own I love with all my heart, had ringworm a month back? Padraic Do ya? I didnt know drug pushers had cats.

James Sure, drug pushers are the same as anybody underneath. Padraic Whats his name?

James Eh? Padraic Whats his name?

James Em, Dominic. (Pause.) And I promise not to sell drugs to children any more, Padraic. On Dominics life I promise. And thats a big promise, because Dominic means more to me than anything. Padraic (pause) Are you gipping me now, James? James Im not gipping you. This is a serious subject. Padraic approaches James with the razor and slices through the ropes that bind him. James falls to the floor in a heap, then half picks himself up, testing out his weight on his bloody foot. Padraic holsters his guns. Padraic How are them toes?

James Theyre perfect, Padraic. Padraic You admit you deserved the toes at least?

James Oh I did. The toes and an arm, really. Padraic Do you have money to get the bus to the hospital?

James I dont. Padraic gives the confused James some change. Padraic Because you want to get them toes looked at. The last thing you want now is septic toes.

James Oh dyou know, thats the last thing Id want. Padraic Im off to Galway to see me cat.

Padraic exits. James (calling out) fiddle, Padraic! And I hope by the time you get home hes laughing and smiling and as fit as a

Pause. Sound of a distant outer door banging shut. (Crying.) I hope that hes dead already and buried in shite, you stupid mental fecking bastard, ya! Blackout.