You Trippin?
Here is the full text of my 10-minute play, You Trippin? (aka American Youth). If you are interested in
producing this piece, please contact me for the performance rights. All producers are required to include
the author's name on any programs or advertising in which the title of the play appears. Thanks, and I hope
you enjoy the show!! :O)
-Daniel Guyton

You Trippin?
A 10-Minute Play by Daniel Guyton ©2002

Author holds all copyrights. For performance or production information, please contact author at:
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*The language in this piece, though coarse, was not selected arbitrarily, nor with the sole intent of
shocking or offending audience members. This play was designed instead to capture the brutal, and often
strangely poetic, verbiage of a specific class of people, in an accurate manner. Please do not discard the
merits of this play, or its message, based solely on the four-letter expletives. It is my firm belief that, by
looking past the spoken word and into the underlying subtext, one may find in this play four very compelling
characters, trapped in a world beyond their control and/or understanding.*

A - 16
B - 15
C - 14
D - 17

(Four white youths are lounging in D’s basement, drinking Slurpees and smoking from a bowl. Gangsta
rap busts out from an old stereo. A and B are on a ratty old couch, C is on a love seat, and D is on the
floor, playing a video game. A lights up a marijuana bowl and smokes it. He exhales and passes it to B. B
lights it up.)

A: Bitch motherfucker.
B: Goddamn.
A: Shit’s good, son.
B: Word.
A: Fuckin shit, man.
B: Goddamn.
C: Yo.
A: Fucked up now.
D: Bitch!
B: Hells yeah.
A: Motherfucker.
B: Goddamn.
C: Yo, B.
D: Fuckin kill you nigga!
A: Goddamn.
C: Yo!
D: Take that! I’ll fuckin stab you!
B: So, what’s up?  We down?
D: I’m a fuckin school you, bitch!
A: I’m down.
D: Motherfucker, wha’d you say?
C: Yo, pass that shit!
D: I’m a fuckin stab you in the gut, bitch!
B: What you want?
C: Said fuckin pass that shit, yo!
D: Take that, you fuckin cock sucker!
B: Pass what shit, C?
D: Yeah! You like that, bitch?
C: Pass the fuckin weed, dick!
D: Get in my face, motherfucker? I’ll take you out!
B: I don’ wanna pass the weed, bitch.
A: Yo, chill, B.
C: Dick! Just pass it!
B: Getcher own fuckin weed, C!
A: Yo, chill, B, just pass it.
D: Die, you fuckin cocksucker!
B: Nah, I ain’t passin shit!
C: Come on, dick, I wanna smoke some!
B: I’m a fuckin smoke you, you keep talking.
C: Aw, come on, man.
(D throws the controller down.)
D: Piece of shit mother fucker! I fuckin hate this piece of shit!
A: What? J’you lose?
D: Fuckin hate this game!
B: Fuck is it?
D: Super Mario Brothers. (Yelling at the screen) Fuckin piece a shit!
C: Game’s so old!
D: This close to the end, and that fuckin turtle! Aaarrr! (To screen) I’ll fuckin put you in a soup, motherfucka!
Next time you touch my nigga Luigi, I’m a fuckin kill you!
A: Yo, chill, D.
C: Yo, B, you gonna pass it?
D: Fuck me.
B: Yeah, sure, I’m a fuckin pass it. Here you go, D.
(B passes the bowl to D.)
D: Nice.
C: Dick!
D: Yo, this some good shit, C, you should try some.
(They all laugh at C. D passes it back to B.)
C: Fuck you, man.
B: Yo.
A: What up?
B: We down?
D: Yeah, of course we fuckin down. Ain’t no bitchin out now.
C: Yo, I don’t know about this, guys.
B: Yeah, fuck you, go sit in a corner.
C: No, fuck you, asshole! You’re a dick!
B: You want my fuckin nuts in yo mouth, bitch?
C: (Standing) No, fuck you, you’re the fuckin bitch!
B: (Standing) Wha’d you say, bitch?
C: I said… (C sits) I said just pass the fuckin weed all right?
B: Nah, you called me a bitch!
D: You are a bitch, B, now pass the kid some fuckin weed.
A: Yo, mom said you shouldn’t be smokin anyway, C. Your fuckin asthma and shit.
C: Yeah, well, fuck mom! When she ever give a fuck about me anyway, huh? She don't give a shit! Fuckin
smoke in front of her, she won’t even know! Fuckin shoot someone, she won’t even know.
B: Hells yeah, bitch! I fuck her all the time, she don’t even know!
A: Fuck off, B!
D: Ok, now, if we’re gonna do this…
C: Yo, fuckin pass that shit!
B: How bout I fuckin smack you?
D: Yo, if we’re gonna do this…
C: Yo, fuckin pass it!
B: Yo, fuckin bite me.
C: Yo, fuckin…
D: Will someone pass the kid some fuckin weed before he starts cryin? Christ!
(B passes the bowl to C.)
D: Ok, now, if we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it right. So, first off…
C: Yo, how do you light this?
D: You don’t fuckin know?
C: What am I, fuckin Einstein? Look at this thing!
D: Gimme that!
(D snatches the bowl from C.)
C: Dick!
B: Stupid bitch.
D: Now, first off, you got…
C: Can I have that back please?
D: Will you just fuckin listen to me?
C: Can I get fuckin high first?
A: Yo, chill, C.
D: You don’t even know how to do it!
C: Well, someone can show me!
D: Will someone show him how to light a fuckin bowl?
B: I ain’t showin him!
(A takes the bowl from D, and crosses to C with a lighter. C puts the bowl to his mouth and A lights it
for him. D and B watch.)
A: Ok, just inhale.
(C inhales and starts choking.)
D: You fuckin happy now?
(C nods. A crosses back to his seat.)
D: Ok, good. Now first of all…
(C runs upstairs.)
D: What the fuck?
B: Bitch can’t handle his weed.
A: Yo, C!
D: Why the fuck you keep bringin him here?
A: He’s my fuckin brother!
D: Nigga’s prolly pukin all over my kitchen! My mom’s gonna kill me!
B: Fuckin told him he shouldn’t smoke.
D: (Yelling upstairs) Yo, C, watch my fuckin floor, nigga! My moms just washed that shit! (To himself) Stupid
B: Fuckin told him.
A: Yo, I’m sorry, D. He’s a kid, though, you know?
D: Aight, whatever, yo. Just better not fuckin yak on the floor is all I’m sayin.  
B: Stupid bitch.
A: Fuck up, B.
D: Aight, now first of all…
(C reenters)
C: I’m sorry. I just needed some water.
D: Aight, now first of fuckin all! (C sits down) Aight, now first of all, who’s pullin the alarm?
(B points to C)
B: He is.
C: Yo, why I gotta pull the alarm?
B: Cause you’s a bitch!
A: Cause you’re the youngest.
C: Aw, come on, you guys suck.
D: Ok, now, us three’s gonna bust the caps, right?
A: Hells yeah.
C: Yo, D.
B: Be fuckin cool, like a shootin gallery! Ba-bam! Ba-bam! Ba-bam!
A: Niggas better reckanize!
D: Fuckers in gym class be scared as hell, yo!
B: Climbin the rope and shit, Ba-bam!
C: Yo, D.
B: Come out like retards, thinkin they’s a fire! Ba-bam! One nigga down. Who’s my mother fucka now?
D: Ba-bam! Bitch’s head explodes!
A: Yeah, motherfucka! Ba-bam!
C: Yo, D, I wanna shoot, man! I don’t wanna pull the alarm!
D: I don’t care! You’re pullin the fuckin alarm!
(B aims his mimed gun at C)
B: Ba-bam!
(C sits.)
C: Hate you fuckin guys.
D: Yo, so who got a piece? B, you got one?
B: Yeah man, I got one. It’s at my house. In my dad’s drawer.
D: Ok, nice, nice. You got the key?
B: Nah. It’s cool. He don’t fuckin lock it.
D: Nice. So, what kind?
B: It’s, uh, it’s a fuckin nine millimeter, you know.
D: Nice. Nice. (To A) And you?
A: Yeah, I.. I got one back home, too.
C: No, you don’t! You fuckin liar!
A: Fuck up, C!
D: So, what you got?
A: It’s, uh, it’s a fuckin, you know, a… a nine millimeter, too.
D: Nice. Nice. Nine millimeter. Fuckin beautiful things.
A: Word is bond.
B: Hells yeah.
D: Yo, speakin a nine millimeters…
(D pulls out a gun.)
D: Check this shit, beotch!
C: Holy fuck!
B: Goddamn.
A: Holy shit, D! Where’d you get that?
D: Wal-Mart, motherfucker!
B: You got that shit at Wal-Mart, D?
D: At’s right.
C: J’you steal it?
D: Nah, motherfucker, I used my fake ID! Course I stole it, you stupid fuck!
(They all laugh, except for C.)
B: You stupid fuck.
C: How?
D: Well, I… I didn’t steal it personally, I mean, I got niggas on the inside.
B: You do?
C: What niggas you got on the inside of Wal-Mart, D?
A: Yeah, what niggas?
D: What niggas? Y… you know. Fuckin niggas.
B: Like who?
D: I don’t know, fuckin… You know that guy George, who works Tuesdays and Thursdays?
B: Yeah.
D: Him.
C: He’s a nigga?
D: Well, you know, he’s… he’s fuckin cool.
A: He’s like fifty!
D: Yeah, well, I told him he could fuck my sister if he got me a gun.
A: Yo, your sister’s 13!
D: I know, but she’s a slut.
B: Yo, how come I can’t fuck your sister?
(D aims the gun at B’s head.)
D: Cuz you’s a bitch, B!
A: Yo, chill, D.
(D lowers the gun.)
D: I’m just playin.
B: Yo, that shit ain’t fuckin cool, D.
C: Can I get a gun?
B: Seriously, yo, don’t point that fuckin gun at me no more.
(D does it again.)
D: What? You don’t like it?
B: Motherfucker! Put it down!
D: Come on, B, I’m just fuckin.
A: Yo, chill, D!
C: Yo, shoot him!
A: Fuck up, C!
B: Come on, motherfucka, get that shit out my face!
D: What? You don’t trust me?
A: Yo, chill, D!
B: I’ll trust you when you put that fuckin gun away!
D: Come on, B, who’s your motherfucker, huh? Who’s your motherfucker?
B: What the fuck, D? You trippin?
A: Yo, chill!
C: Yo, shoot him!
B: Fuck you, C!
A: Yeah, chill, C! Shut the fuck up!
D: Oh shit, B, I could fuckin kill you right now.
B: Yo, come on, man.
C: Blow his fuckin head off!
A: Yo, chill, C! Shut the fuck up!
D: I mean, I won’t. But, I’m just sayin, motherfucker, I could.
B: Come on, D! Stop fuckin around!
C: Who’s the bitch now, B? Who’s the bitch?
B: Fuck up, C!
D: Tell me you love me, B!
B: Fuck you, man!
A: Yo, chill, D!
C: Who’s the bitch now, B?
A: Yo, C!
B: Come on, D, what the fuck?
D: Come on, bitch, tell me you love me!
A: Yo, chill, D!
B: You trippin?
A: Yo, D, chill, motherfucker! Shit ain’t cool!
D: You wanna fuckin test me, nigga? Tell me you love me!
(B gets on his knees, as if to plead for his life.)
B: Ok! I love you! I fuckin love you!
(D puts the gun against B’s head.)
D: Say it like you mean it.
A: Yo, D!
B: Yo, D.
C: Yo, D!
D: Say it like you fuckin mean it, B! I ain’t no joke!
B: I love you, man! Don’t fuckin shoot me!
A: Yo, chill, D!
D: I ain’t nuttin to mess with, motherfucka!
D: Tell me you want to suck my dick.
(B starts crying.)
D: Say it!
B: (Meekly) I wanna suck your dick.
(Gunshot. B falls to the ground.)
A: Holy fuck.
(D backs away.)
D: I… I didn’t mean to… I was just fuckin…
(C circles the body.)
C: Oh shit. Oh shit.
(D stares at the gun.)
A: He ain’t movin, D.
C: Yo, B, you fuckin dead?
D: Aw, fuck.  I was just… (He looks at A.) Come on, you know I was just fuckin.
A: He ain’t movin, D!
D: I was just… (He drops the gun.) Oh, fuck.
(D runs off. Long silence.)
A: Fuck! Yo, what are we gonna do?
(C picks up the gun.)
A: Yo, C.
(C aims it at the body.)
C: Who’s the bitch now, B?
(C pretends to shoot the body, making a clicking noise with his mouth, then blows on the end of the
gun. He sticks it in his belt loop and exits. A remains, confused and scared.)
A: Yo, C.
A: What are we gonna do?
(Lights out. End of play)