ACT ONE

Scene Thirteen:

"Gee, Officer Krupke"

Inside NYPD's 21st precinct station house, on West 82nd street, it was a bit gloomy.

On pegs on the wall near the door were police raincoats, detectives' fedoras and jackets. In one corner, a mop in a bucket. Krupke sat at the Day Sergeant's desk in the center of the main room, drinking coffee and talking to a patrolman.

Ekko was being led by a cop toward a bench on which a streetwalker sat, painting her nails. On the opposite bench sat Claggor, Big Deal, Baby John, who was terrified, and Mylo, who watched with glee as Ekko tried to sit with the other Jets but was forced by the cop to sit next to the streetwalker. Mylo cackled to himself.

Ekko still wasn't quite over how they had treated him at the dance the night before, so he shunned them in return.

"Oh, look who it is. The boy savior," Mylo teased.

"All of you go suck a pickle," Ekko muttered, looking away from them.

Baby John nervously whispered to Claggor, "You think we're going to jail?

"They're fishing, is all. Asking questions," he said to calm him.

Mylo leaned forward, adding, pointedly at Baby John, "Which. We. Ain't. Answering."

In an office behind the benches, the door partially open, they could overhear a detective interrogating Balkan behind them. The man was immediately using threats to intimidate the cocky teenage boy.

"So, you're gonna tell me where and when the rumble's happening…"

Balkan casually flipped his lucky coin, and the detective grabbed him out of annoyance.

"…or I'm gonna send you straight to the Tombs!"

"I don't know where the rumble is!" Balkan groaned. "I don't even know what a rumble is."

The detective released him and angrily slammed down his thick file of paperwork on his desk. Balkan merely flipped his coin and shot a smirk toward the boys in the main room.

In the office next door, another detective was grilling Mouthpiece. Although, this detective was going for a kinder approach, appealing to his age. Mouthpiece was contentedly reading a comic book as the man asked questions.

"Nah, they don't tell me nothing," Mouthpiece said. "They know I can't keep any secrets."

"They tell you when to show up, right?" he asked, confused.

"Nah, they don't." Mouthpiece gave a chuckle. "I just hang around until somebody says, 'let's go'."

"And then?"

Mouthpiece furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged. "I go," was his simple answer.

In the main room, a radio chattered incoherently in the background, nobody paying any attention to it. Bored, the lady on the bench glanced at Ekko and offered her nail polish to him.

Ekko grimaced, shaking his head. The lady merely shrugged. Mylo snickered.

Baby John's leg started bouncing. "I can't go to jail, Clag," he said, his voice shaking.

Mylo scoffed, gesturing to Ekko, "Dry up, weepy, or else go sit on the ladies' bench with the other dickless wonder."

"Leave him be," said Claggor, shooting him a look.

"Get stuffed, why don't ya?" Ekko replied to Mylo.

"Go back to the zoo, why don't ya?" Mylo shot back.

"Go suck on your sister's titty, why don't ya? You guinea hyena." Ekko huffed.

A vein snapped inside Mylo. And he knew the perfect way to hit Ekko's sore spot.

He stood up, shouting at Krupke at the Day Sergeant's desk, "Hey, Krupke! You made a mistake! This kid ain't a Jet! He nags us all the time –!"

Ekko stood up from the bench. "I ought to be a Jet!"

"He ain't a Jet!"

"Say that one more time!"

Krupke held up a hand, replying calmly to encourage the boys to stop, "Pipe down, Mylo, nobody needs to hear from –"

But the two turned on each other, shouting louder.

"Vi told me I could take on any four of you in a –!"

"He ain't even a boy! She's a dumb girl!"

"I ain't a girl!" Ekko yelled.

Mylo shouted, "She looks like some kind of biological disaster, but I pantsed her once, and under oath, she's a girl!"

Ekko glowered as something snapped inside of him. His voice was quiet at first, but raised into a scream, "I said I ain't no goddamn girl, YOU SHRIVEL-DICK DAGO PANSY!"

The smile left Mylo's face as Ekko suddenly launched himself at Mylo. He tackled the teenager over the bench, knocking it over, and wrestling him to the floor.

"Get off of him," Krupke groaned tiredly.

Ekko bent over Mylo, threw down a right hook in his face, not holding back. Baby John and Claggor tried to stop him, but Ekko hit Baby John on his backswing and shoved Claggor backward.

"Cut it out, now!" Krupke commanded, hurrying around his desk.

Ekko grabbed a fistful of Mylo's hair, yanking at his head even as Claggor wrapped his arms around the boy's waist, pulling him back to separate them. Ekko kicked and flailed wildly.

Krupke came up from behind Claggor, pulling the teenager to let go of Ekko.

"You're gonna break his arm!" the man snapped.

"I'm trying to get him off of him!" Claggor defended.

Harold Krupke, copying Claggor, hugged Ekko from behind, but the kid was much stronger than he'd anticipated. To Ekko, Krupke didn't compare to Claggor. Ekko kicked out his legs at another officer coming toward them, shoving him away.

Ekko elbowed Krupke in the side, making the man wince and lean against the desk behind him. "Oh, my ulcer!"

All Ekko saw was red. He wasn't thinking. He was reacting. He didn't want anyone touching him.

Just before Ekko could raise his arm to reactively punch Krupke, another officer stopped his hand and flicked a handcuff around his raised wrist.

Ekko grabbed the man by the leg, lifting his leg up and the momentum flipping the man to fall on his back.

His path cleared, Ekko spotted the doors and ran out of there, not looking back. He ran with all his might, even with a cuff on his wrist. Multiple officers chased after him.

"It's a freaking felony!" Krupke said, "Assaulting an officer of the…"

Krupke stopped in his haste just before he ran out of the doors, pointing a finger at the boys in the room.

"Sit yourselves someplace and don't move a muscle until I get back! Don't even sweat! You hear me?" he shouted.

Then he shut the double doors behind him, locking a latch in place before running off.

Mouthpiece tried the door experimentally. It was locked alright.

Mylo touched his nose, laughing at the sight of blood.

"Hey, a girl gave me a nosebleed!" he laughed, showing off his bloody finger.

Claggor rolled his eyes at him, groaning. Baby John busied himself by grabbing the tipped over bench and righting it back in place.

The lady on the bench sighed, "That kid just bought himself a ticket to the House of Detention."

Baby John's head shot up. "What about us?" he asked.

The lady gathered her things and headed for a nearby holding pen. "Rikers most likely," she answered.

"Rikers?!" Baby John exclaimed.

"What? You ain't never been arrested before?" she asked.

"He ain't never been nothing before," Mylo said.

Baby John looked at her, pleadingly. "That'll kill my ma."

"Oh," the lady pouted with unmoved sympathy, before closing the cell door on herself and turning the giant key in the lock.

With nothing else to do, the boys sat down on the benches again. Baby John felt clammy.

"I can't go to jail," he moaned.

Claggor reassured him, "You won't." He gave him a shoulder bump. "Just remember two things. One, tell them what they want to hear."

"And two –" Mylo warned him on his right side, "– don't tell 'em nothin'."

Standing at the Day Sergeant's desk, Mouthpiece put on Krupke's hat, then slammed his hand down on the heavy day ledger. They all looked up at him.

"Hey, garbage!" Mouthpiece shouted, impersonating his Irish accent.

He kicked an office chair at Claggor who caught it and leaned against the back of it.

"Who? Me, Officer Krupke?" he asked mockingly.

The others chuckled.

Mouthpiece frowned, picking up the thick ledger. "Oh, look at youse. You feckless, frigging disappointments. Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw the book atcha!"

Claggor wiped the smile off his face. He looked forlorn, leaning heavier against the rolling chair. He sang slowly.

Dear… kindly Sargent Krupke,

Ya gotta understand,

It's just our bringing up-ke

That gets us out of hand…

He pushed the rolling chair to Big Deal, who sang.

Our mothers all are junkies…

He pushed the chair to Mylo, who sang.

Our fathers all are drunks…

Claggor stood up from the bench and grabbed Baby John by the shoulder. He sang quietly.

Golly Moses… Naturally, we're punks…

Claggor, Mylo, and Big Deal sat Baby John in the chair, despite his reluctance. They slowly wheeled him forward, beseeching 'Krupke'.

Claggor leaned in close to Baby John, as though speaking for him.

Gee, Officer Krupke,

We're very upset

We never had the love that every child oughta get

We ain't no delinquents,

We're misunderstood…

Deep down inside us…

He stood behind Baby John, putting his hands on his shoulders, looking to the officer

There is good

Mylo leaned his head in and added.

There is good…

All three of them surrounded Baby John's chair, singing louder and louder, building their energy.

There is good,

There is good,

There is untapped good,

Like inside the worst of us, is good!

Mouthpiece waved his hand, unmoved. "Aw, that's a touching good story!"

Claggor argued, "Let me tell it to the world!"

Mouthpiece pointed to Balkan, who was ignoring them, reading a comic book on another bench. "Just tell it to the judge!" he said.

They all laughed and surrounded Balkan.

Mouthpiece hoisted Claggor by the back of his collar. Mylo hoisted Balkan to his feet and grabbed glasses off a desk. The glasses were shoved on his nose and Balkan assumed a stern face.

They pushed Baby John on the rolling chair to watch from the sideline. He watched intently.

With Mouthpiece, Big Deal, Snowboy, and Mylo standing behind him, Claggor dropped to his knees, hugging his vest like he was shivering. He sang up to the 'Judge'.

Dear… kindly Judge, Your Honor

My parents treat me rough!

With all their marajuana,

They won't give me a puff!

They didn't want to have me,

But somehow, I was had!

Leaping lizards! That's why I'm so bad!

Snowboy pulled Baby John out of the way as Balkan skipped off the wall and hopped onto the bench, skating across the surface on his feet, skidding to a perfect stop in front of Claggor. He frowned magisterially down at Mouthpiece.

Right! Officer Krupke,

You're really a square!

This boy don't need a judge

He needs an analyst's care!

He pulled Claggor to his feet and stacked his hands on his head, pretending to flip open his brain.

It's just his neurosis

That oughtta be curbed!

He grabbed Claggor's shoulders and turned him around quickly, making him fall into the arms of the Jets.

He's psychologically disturbed!

Claggor jumped up, excitedly.

I'm disturbed!

The rest jumped up, surrounding Baby John and Claggor.

Claggor picked up the lightweight Baby John and tossed him to land horizontally in the arms of the Jets. They caught him easily and held him up as they sang.

We're disturbed!

We're disturbed!

We're the most disturbed!

Like we're psychologically disturbed!

They tossed him up to drop him to the floor. Baby John cried out but caught himself. The others scattered. Mylo popped up, shrieking in mock insanity.

Balkan and Mouthpiece jumped up onto the Day Sergeant's desk. Mouthpiece grabbed a black patrolman's raincoat for Balkan, who put it on backwards, making a judge's robe.

Claggor ran up to the desk and Mouthpiece swatted him in the head with a rolled-up newspaper, sending him to fall backward into the arms of the other Jets.

Balkan banged his make-shift gavel. "Hear ye, hear ye! In the opinion of this court, the boy is depraved on the account that he ain't had a normal home," he called.

Claggor counted his fingers and looked up in realization. "Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived!"

Balkan looked to Mouthpiece. "Take this nut to a headshrinker."

"Ooh, why not?" Mouthpiece said.

Big Deal and Snowboy lifted one end of the bench Baby John was sitting on, making Baby John jump off. They crossed the bench with the other bench on the floor. Balkan tossed the ledger to Big Deal, then shucked off his raincoat/robe. Big Deal slid the ledger up the raised end of the bench to make a 'pillow'.

Claggor hopped on the bench and reclined against the ledger, placing his feet up on Balkan, who knelt as an impromptu footrest. The bench was now an analyst's couch. Mylo donned some bifocals and sat on the bench next to Claggor, flipping open a patrolman's notebook in 'analyst' mode.

Claggor sang slowly, adding more energy as he went on.

My… father is a bastard

My ma's an S.O.B.

My grandpa's always plastered!

My grandma pushes tea!

My sister wears a mustache!

My brother wears a dress!

Goodness gracious! That's why I'm a mess!

Mylo turned to Mouthpiece, disapprovingly, slapping the notebook with his pencil.

Yes! Officer Krupke, you're really a slob

This boy don't need a doctor,

Just a good honest job!

Claggor leapt up from his 'couch'. Mylo jumped on the 'couch' and slid down the length on his feet toward an awaiting Mouthpiece.

Society's played him a terrible trick!

And sociologically, he's sick!

Claggor popped up between Mylo and Mouthpiece.

I am sick!

The other Jets joined the trio in a huddle, spinning around in the center of the room.

We are sick!

We are sick!

We are sick, sick, sick!

Like we're sociologically sick!

The Jets started flinging papers from folders all over the room. The streetwalker stared at the boys, trashing the room and growing increasingly wild.

Mylo clapped his hands, putting on his analyst frown. The Jets lined up in a long row, standing at attention.

Mylo slouched his back a tad and waddled slightly as he walked down the line of boys. He led Mouthpiece to the end of the line where Claggor stood.

"In my professional opinion, what we got here is a run-of-the-mill juvenile delinquent!"

Mylo slapped Claggor across the face, harshly.

"And juvenile delinquency –"

He slapped twice more. Claggor started to get steamed.

"– is a social disease!"

Balkan patted Claggor on the arm, arching an eyebrow at him. "Ew, Clag, you got a social disease?"

Mylo said to Mouthpiece, "Bring him to a social worker."

Mouthpiece looked nervously at his hands. "Wait, can I catch it if I touch him?" he asked rhetorically.

Mylo and Balkan lifted one bench and placed it on top of the other bench. Snowboy moved behind the benches, stacking towering piles of newspaper on the upper bench, mimicking piles of paperwork on the 'social worker's desk'.

Mouthpiece dragged Claggor to face the bench. Big Deal rose behind it, ready to play the social worker.

Claggor shoved Mouthpiece off him, putting his hands in his pockets to address the social worker.

Dear…

But suddenly, Baby John stood up in Claggor's place, taking over the lead. The other Jets were impressed.

Kindly social worker,

They say go earn a buck,

Like be a soda-jerker!

Which means I'd be a shmuck!

It's not I'm antisocial,

I'm only anti-work!

Claggor and Snowboy shouted in surprise pride.

Glory! Osky!

Claggor, Mylo, Balkan, Baby John, Mouthpiece and Snowboy sang at Big Deal.

That's why I'm a jerk!

Big Deal screwed up his face in disgusted shock. His voice taking on a woman's falsetto.

Yee! Officer Krupke, you've done it again!

This boy don't need a job,

The Jets on either side of him hoisted up the bench horizontally in front of Big Deal, the structured bars underneath acting as prison bars.

He needs a year in the pen!

He pushed the bench aside, jumping and landing next to Baby John. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pointing a finger to his chest.

It ain't just a question of misunderstood

Deep down inside him, he's no good!

Baby John held up his arms, confused, surprised, but mostly not caring.

I'm no good!

He hopped up on the bench and other Jets twirled him in place. They all surrounded him, singing with an air of celebration for the boy finally understanding the endless cycle they found themselves in.

We're no good!

We're no good!

We're no earthly good!

Like the best of us is no damn good!

Then Baby John 'flung' the Jets away, the teens spinning away from him, rolling on the floor. They scattered on the ground, leaping up wildly.

Mouthpiece grabbed Baby John by his shirt. Baby John stared at him with shock, afraid of his aggressiveness.

The trouble is he's crazy!

He roughly hurled Baby John to Balkan, the Judge.

The trouble is he drinks!

Balkan tossed him, even more aggressively to Mylo, the Shrink.

The trouble is he's lazy!

With a shove and a kick, Mylo sent him flying toward Big Deal, the Social Worker.

The trouble is he stinks!

Their roughhousing was bordering now on out-of-control violence. Baby John was tripping over his feet as he was tossed toward Snowboy.

The trouble is he's growing!

He was pushed into the arms of Claggor, who tried to steady him. But Baby John angrily wrestled himself free of Claggor.

The trouble is he's grown!

All the others faced Mouthpiece, their beloved officer.

Krupke, we've got troubles of our own!

They dropped to the floor, spinning one by one in a line, dropping to one knee. They held up their hands to him, pleading.

Gee, Officer Krupke, we're down on our knees!

Claggor shuffled forward on his knees, desperate.

Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease!

They all sang together, the mass of hands reaching out to him for help.

Gee, Officer Krupke, what are we to do?

Mouthpiece saw something behind the other Jets. He hauled Baby John up beside him and pointed, drawing everyone's attention back to the doors.

Gee, Officer Krupke…

The doors swung open as Krupke himself reentered just in time for all the Jets to turn to him with –

Krup you!

Krupke stood in the doorway, panting. Exhausted and sweaty, bruised and empty-handed. He stared, mouth page at the chaos and the mess. The place had been destroyed.

But he was too exhausted to stop them.

The boys ran out of the door, hurrying before he could change his mind.

As Mouthpiece was leaving, he came back to give back the man his hat. "This is for you," he said nicely before leaving.

Alone, the man sighed at the destruction, wondering why he even bothered to tell them what to do.

/