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A couple of years ago I wrote a play called Beast Eden Way for 1157 Performance Group in England. They produced it as part of their Suburbia Series in 2007, and they are remounting it in 2010 for a UK tour. 

Platform 9 Theatre is developing Beast Eden Way for its own urban themed season with Threshold Theatre here in Toronto. 

So I’ve been writing about other pieces about the urban experience. One of them is called Rat. It’s a monologue. The rat seems an appropriate icon for the grittier side of urbanity. 

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RAT
by
Robin Fulford

[Here's the opening sequence of 20 minutes on rats and humans.]

(Man emerges from the sewers. 
He wears a rumpled suit over rat catcher clothes underneath. 
He holds an old briefcase. 
He looks up at the tall building that he is going into. 
He then checks out the audience for problem areas. 
Looks at his watch. 
He is waiting for someone to let him into the building. 
Singing Neil Young’s Keep Rocking In The Free World...)

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That’s what I sing to them down there.

Ok, but like here is the thing. I get called Rat cause I’m a rat catcher, and not because I like them, or am like them. I hate them, but we do share some interesting traits. I respect them, then I kill them. 

It’s kind of a code, then the rest doesn’t fuck you up as much as you think it would. After twenty years of city sewers, well who knows what that does to you, did to me. Have a good look. You be the judge.  (Gives a rat squeal)

You never get used to them. Kinda like with who-mans. They wear you down, like acid.

 

oo000oo

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