let it all collapse, the icon for the www.punkerslut.com website
Home Articles Critiques Books Video
About Graphics CopyLeft Links Music
  • Back to index of Gutter Punk: Young and Homeless
  • Gutter Punk: Young And Homeless

    Chapter 20

    By Punkerslut

    Fast Music For Cool People
    Image: From "Anarchy" Gallery from FreedomInYourMind

    Start Date: April 26, 2003
    Finish Date: January 27, 2004

    Gunner and Kevin hit each other's fist, in slow motion, as the song "Don't Get Caught" by Crass begins to play. The camera then shows the two of them walking down the street, sharing a carton of orange juice together, in slow motion. It switches to Kevin talking to some repair pair and pointing off in some direction. Then it shows Gunner looking through his repair truck and stealing a crowbar, and running. The repair man runs after him, only to be tripped by Kevin. Kevin books it with Gunner. The camera then shows Gunner and Kevin on the sidewalk. Kevin is asking people for spare change while Gunner is just chilling with a crowbar in his hands. The camera then shows both of them walking down the sidewalk, while Gunner is holding the crowbar (one end on his shoulder, on end in his hand) and drinking vodka out of the other hand. He then passes it off to his mate. The two are walking down the street rather carelessly. They come to an expensive car and Gunner smashes one of the windows with the crowbar. Kevin laughs, Gunner tosses him the crowbar, and Kevin does the same, and smashes the front window several times. The alarm, blaring now, continues, as they both run off. Finally, the camera shows both of them standing in front of an obviously abandoned apartment complex. They look to each other and nod. From one angle, it shows Gunner ripping open a door with a crowbar, from behind Gunner's back. The two walk inside, Kevin standing around at the front entrance inside and looking around, while Gunner walks inside and looks around, the camera moving up from their feet to their faces (as they are pleased), as the song just ends. The camera is now watching the two on the top floor. They are both looking down the elevator shaft.

    GUNNER: I wonder if I could finish taking a piss here and it wouldn't hit the floor until I was done.

    Kevin pushes Gunner a little towards the shaft jokingly.

    GUNNER: Hey, cut it out, ass.

    Kevin walks away from the shaft and walks around the room.

    KEVIN: This looks like it could be a nice squat. Five floors, everything fucking taken out, obviously completely fucking abandoned and forgotten about.

    GUNNER: True.

    KEVIN: I got dibs on this spot!

    Kevin claims a spot in the corner.

    GUNNER: I'll take this spot.

    Gunner drops the crowbar down next to the side of the wall.

    GUNNER: You think there's any scraps left in this building? If we could find some wood or some furniture, we could probably make a good barricade.

    KEVIN: Barricades are the fucking shit, man.

    GUNNER: I hear that, brother. I mean, you can nail as many boards of wood to a door as you want, it doesn't make a difference. Cops will kick that fucker in and haul your ass to jail in a pinch. With a barricade, any no fucking army gonna break that bitch in.

    KEVIN: Right... And we might want to get some clothe or wood for these windows.

    GUNNER: That's true. Once the cold front moves in at night, the wind will make every nipple erect in this room.

    KEVIN: You're right. We should leave them smashed and open.

    GUNNER: You read me like a book.

    KEVIN: Mmmmmm, Freak on a cold night, naked underneath the blanket.

    GUNNER: She sleeps commando?

    KEVIN: When she has a blanket.

    GUNNER: Oh, yeah... I was really fucking drunk once and I thought she was dressed, but it felt like she was naked. So I kept feeling her up, thinking that I wasn't that perverted because she was clothed.

    KEVIN: That'll be 100 rosaries, mofukka.

    GUNNER: Okay, saint Kevin, the unsinnable.

    KEVIN: Now that is just plain disrespectful.

    GUNNER: Are we gonna have any squat rules?

    KEVIN: I 'unno, maybe... I mean, this is a badass place, and we'd like to keep it nice, but squat rules typically involve someone enforcing them, meaning a squat nazi.

    GUNNER: True. Places with a squat nazi are usually a pain in the ass, because they always boss you around. How long you been on the streets, Kevin?

    KEVIN: Oh, about six, seven, eight, I 'unno.

    GUNNER: Days or months? (smiling)

    Kevin moves towards Gunner like he's gonna punch him and he holds up a block, as Kevin laughs.

    GUNNER: So, you must know the kinds of hassles that arise in squatting?

    KEVIN: Yeah, like motherfuckers painting a big anarchy sign on the outside of your squat, and then cops go by and shoot out the windows at night time.

    GUNNER: Fucking right, dude. We don't need that shit.

    KEVIN: Well, we can democratically make the rules, while everyone is drinking.

    GUNNER: Fair enough. I think everyone will agree they don't want this place to get busted, with its ideal location and just its damned fine conditions.

    KEVIN: Hey, I remember seeing a couch downstairs that lost its fluffiness.

    GUNNER: You mean upholstery?

    KEVIN: Eat shit.

    GUNNER: You want to use that as a barricade?

    KEVIN: We might as well try.

    GUNNER: Let's go, then.

    The two work on arranging the couch so that one end is against the wall and the other end is against the door.

    GUNNER: Perfect, now, if anyone tries to get in, they're fucked.

    KEVIN: Sure... but, how are we supposed to get out.

    Gunner looks to the couch, then back at Kevin, then back at the couch, and walks away. The camera then switches angles and shows two of them moving the couch out of the way.

    GUNNER: Now let's think about getting some of those mattresses and foam mats in here from the old squat.

    KEVIN: You think it's safe?

    GUNNER: Well, dude, come on... We'll be there for two minutes tops, and be the fuck out of there.

    KEVIN: Hhhhmmmm... I have another idea.

    GUNNER: Yeah?

    KEVIN: We spange some more and then get drunk some more.

    join the punkerslut.com
    mailing list!

    copyleft notice and
    responsibility disclaimer