Peter Panic

PETER:
Don’t be frightened.
WENDY:
You’re going to die.
PETER:
I’ve died lots of times.
WENDY:
We’re not playing.
PETER:
Death’s the best game of all.

me. Peter will purge moral panic,
cleanse broken souls, this brutal act tonight
will restore peace and love to all.

I’d have the biggest adventure of them
all, that I wouldn’t see the dawn.

PETER:
It’s not midnight yet.
STEPHEN:
Do you know something?
PETER:
It’s not midnight yet.
WENDY:
You said you hadn’t
watched the news.
PETER:
World-casts are so unreal, it’s
always better to use your hands and mind.
WENDY:
Do you know something Peter?
PETER:
It’s not time!

PETER:
So the
daddy gives the mummy a baby to
show his love?
STEPHEN:
Yes.
PETER:
So you must not love
Wendy?
STEPHEN:
Of course I do.
PETER:
But you haven’t

given her a baby.
STEPHEN:
No but I will.
PETER:
You won’t have to.
STEPHEN:
What?
PETER:
I’ll give her one first.

I’m talking about doing whatever
is necessary in order for you
to retake control. The time for listening
has gone; we must condemn a little more
and understand a little less.

STEPHEN:

But who’s to blame if not me?

WENDY:

The bastard who ripped an unborn child from
a dying woman’s womb. Find that person,
find the child dead or alive and give the
people what they want.

STEPHEN:

What’s that?

WENDY:

As you said. Blood.

STEPHEN:

There is no beauty in loss of control.

WENDY:

Control is never lost, only exchanged.
That’s what I’m saying; in those shared moments
these people take back what little control
there can be in their lives, collectively
they remove the leash on which they feel bound.
Their shared destruction harnessed becomes a
positive force and the more often these
moments, the more often they’re in control,
until we get to where we are now.

STEPHEN:

And there’s the rub. Because we’re
all poor and we all have student debt and
we all wished secretly that we were the
bankers and longed for the protection of
a gang and we all read the newspapers
so that leaves a great big brush tarnishing
us all. But blame is specific. They want blood, the
blood of those who are to blame.

ETER:

Those are my new lucky pants.

WENDY:

Please Peter.

PETER:

Clammy. I thought I never wanted to be a man but now I’m realising there are other ways to have fun.

WENDY:

Peter, I’m
a grown woman.

PETER:

Wendy, we’re the same age.

WENDY:

Once maybe.

PETER:

In here.

PETER gently places his hand over her heart, touching her breast.