Rachel's Fire: 09

(BATH)
I look out clean knickers/ bra/ socks/ t-shirt and jeans/ take them through to the bathroom/ fold them neatly on the chair and turn the radiator to three. There is a spider crawling slowly across the bottom of the bath. I turn on the hot tap. As the water hits it it curls up into a tiny ball. *Sorry* I say as I watch it disappear down the plug-hole.

Unrolling the white rubber mat I stick it to the bottom of the bath and put the plug in so the tub begins to fill with hot water. Into this I pour a lidfull of *Cinnamon Heat* oil.

When the bath is three-quarters-full I run the cold water and swirl it all around with my hand/ causing small tidal waves. Satisfied that the temperature is just right I turn both taps off and climb in/ easing myself into the bubbly water/ leaning back so the warmth engulfs my body. I can feel my muscles relax and before long the tenseness in my neck and shoulders begins to disappear. Grabbing the face cloth and the bar of soap I wash myself: lathering my neck/ shoulders/ arms/ breasts/ belly/ crotch and legs.

***

(NEVER MIND THE POLLOCK)
INTERIOR. RACHELS FLAT. BEDROOM. EVENING. 1996.
RACHEL BABYLON lies across her bed carefully cutting a photograph of feminist pornstar turned performance artist Annie Sprinkle from a book about Angry Women. In this photograph (by Eric Kroll) Annie Sprinkle poses as 1/2 Slut and 1/2 Goddess with tassles on her breasts and a sex-toy clutched in each hand.

RACHELs bed is covered in the debris of her efforts to put together the latest issue of her fanzine *Venus-In-Flares*.

The rest of the room is in just as much of a mess. There are books/ shoes/ knickers/ t-shirts/ jeans/ bras/ skirts/ tapes/ vinyl-records/ CDs/ stockings/ blouses/ cosmetics and coins scattered across the floor. The walls are covered in posters of bands she admires. Noisy 90s girls and 70s artpunks.

In the corner of the room sits a battered old Epiphone semi-acoustic guitar/ paint-splattered like a Jackson Pollock.

***

(SHOWER-HEAD)
I turn the shower on to a steady cool flow. Laying right back in the bath I direct the shower-head at myself. As the cold water sprinkles over my breasts my whole body goose-pimples. My nipples grow thick and hard. Catching the shiny bath-chain between my toes I pull out the plug allowing the bath to empty enough that my pubis is exposed to the air.

As I release the tension on the chain the pressure from the escaping bathwater pulls the plug back in situ.

Pressing both feet up against the wall either side of the taps I buck my hips upwards and move the shower-head down my body until the cool spray is showering directly onto my sex.

***

(THE PORN ISSUE)
INTERIOR. RACHELS FLAT. BEDROOM. EVENING. 1996.
Once the Annie Sprinkle photo is cut out RACHEL BABYLON squeezes glue on to the back and places it carefully on the cover of her fanzine above a large handwritten slogan *Sluts & Goddesses - the Porn issue*. Beneath this in smaller printed letters: *Annie Sprinkle / Lydia Lunch / Susie Bright + frank interview with Samantha Hellfire*.

Glancing casually across at the alarm clock on her bedside table she notices that it is now after 9.30 pm. She is late. She reaches over to the cassette machine on the floor next to her bed and presses play.

TITLE AND CREDITS BEGIN as the song *Amplituden* by New York boy/girl band Guvner blares.

***

(MONTAGE)
INTERIOR / EXTERIOR. EDINBURGH. NIGHT. 1996.
Shots of RACHEL BABYLON frantically hurrying around the room/ trying on clothes/ putting on her make-up/ checking her appearance in the mirror and replacing the guitar strings on her electric guitar. These are interspersed with a montage of images showing the excitement and danger of Edinburgh at night.

Finally - when she is ready - RACHEL heads out of her flat clutching her electric guitar case in one hand and a plastic carrier bag containing guitar leads and effects pedals in the other.

The last shots of the title sequence are of RACHEL BABYLON hurrying through the darkness of a cold Edinburgh night towards a trashed-up bus shelter.

TITLE AND CREDITS END

***

(THE BURGUNDY FLOWS COLD)
she tips the bottle of wine once more so that a stream of blood-red liquid runs down over your pretty white belly round her fingers---your legs shaking in your calf-length boots as the burgundy flows cold & sticky over your

***

(WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE SOUNDCHECK?)
INTERIOR. BUSY EDINBURGH PUB. EVENING. 1996.
RACHEL BABYLON pushes through the crowded bar with her guitar case and carrier bag towards a small stage which is set up with microphones and stands/ amplifiers/ speakers and a drum kit. The rest of her band LOVE ME BY PROXY are already on the stage tuning up instruments and sorting out their equipment. The band are:

~KERRIE CREOLE - voice and guitar (Wild looking American in her mid twenties with long fiery-red hair)
~SAMANTHA HELLFIRE - bass. (Striking blonde Scot in her late 30s. She is KERRIE CREOLEs lover.)
~TROUTmask - drummer (Scottish slacker-dude in his early twenties: ripped jeans/ stoner eyes/ goatee-beard)

RACHEL BABYLON clambers up onto the stage. Her friends are obviously irritated.

KERRIE CREOLE: *What the fuck happened to the soundcheck Rach?*
RACHEL BABYLON (as she removes her guitar from its case): *I know. I know. Im sorry.*

She attaches leads from her guitar through a yellow distortion pedal into a Marshal amp. The amp buzzes noisily as she switches it on.

KERRIE: *Theres a guy from a label here tonight. Did you know that?*
SAMANTHA HELLFIRE (hating the tense atmosphere): *I did mention it to you Rachel.*
RACHEL (shrugging shoulders): *Aye I know. I fucked up.*

***

(THE TENSION ON THE CHAIN)
Rachel Babylon turns the shower on to a steady cool flow. Laying right back in the bath she directs the shower-head at herself. As the cold water sprinkles over her breasts her whole body goose-pimples. Her nipples grow thick and hard. Catching the shiny bath-chain between her toes she pulls out the plug allowing the bath to empty enough that her pubis is exposed to the air. As she releases the tension on the chain the pressure from the escaping bathwater pulls the plug back in situ.

Pressing both feet up against the wall either side of the taps Rachel Babylon bucks her hips upwards and moves the shower-head down her body until the cool spray is showering directly onto her sex.

***

(THE SNEERER)
INTERIOR. BUSY EDINBURGH PUB. EVENING. 1996.
RACHEL BABYLON straps up her guitar and stands before her microphone staring nervously out at the audience. The pub is packed and there is a bad atmosphere.

RACHEL (into mic): *Be gentle. Its our first gig.*

A nasty looking guy at the bar sneers.

SNEERER: Show us yer minge then!

RACHEL is visibly shaken by this. TROUTmask and SAMANTHA HELLFIRE also seem unsettled. The SNEERER and his friends laugh riotously.

KERRIE CREOLE is furious. She grabs for SAMANTHAs microphone with one hand and her bottle of beer with the other.

KERRIE (screaming into mic): *Come up here and fuckin say that! Ill stick this up your ass you little prick.*

SNEERER is taken aback by KERRIEs vicious retort: not used to dealing with such an aggressive woman. His friends are mocking him. The easiest way out of the situation is to join them in laughing.

RACHEL BABYLON - relieved that the tension has dissipated - looks directly into the camera and shrugs her