Scene 1. The seller of striped sticks.
It sounds positive-an incendiary musical composition.
The light flickers.
It turns out to be a stupefyingly happy traffic cop. He's wearing headphones and with his eyes closed with pleasure. It turns out, dancing, traditionally, as usual, twisting his striped wand on a string. He himself is in full dress (a traffic police inspector's suit, a cap, everything is as it should be).
He diverges in the dance so that his clumsy but diligent movements cause a blissful smile from everyone who can only contemplate it.
The traffic cop turns his back (to the viewer), performs quite busy pritops – dancing. At this point, the flickering of the light stops, and then the music stops.
But our traffic cop is still burning out.
The noise of the city begins to sound, the roar of cars passing by.
The crowd begins its march, which dynamically appears from different ends of the backstage.
Someone is just walking by, someone is in a hurry (for example, with a child, if there is an opportunity to attract children to episodic roles), someone is on the arm with a loved one (beloved). And, of course, the drivers passing by, most of them.
*For drivers, a footnote for the director below explains how they can be shown on stage.
Everyone at a certain moment of their procession or passage pays attention to a strange traffic cop. Someone smiles, someone twists his finger at his temple, someone shakes his head reproachfully, and someone pokes his finger.
The extras disperse – they disperse.
The noise of the city and the roar of passing cars stops.
The traffic cop turns to face the viewer, stops dancing, bringing his emotional dance to a certain logically final feint.
He exhales loudly, takes off his headphones, takes off his cap, opens his eyes to a full view, looks into the hall, happy and happiest.
Xenophon (he's a traffic cop) (positively, cheerfully). Oh, it was a nice day yesterday! Four turns in the wrong place, three double solid intersections, and even a couple of drunk drivers at the wheel, one of whom drove on the oncoming lane. (As joyfully and emotionally as possible, patting the thick pocket from which the bills sticking out are visible.) Yes, I… Heh…, sometimes I don't earn as much in a quarter as yesterday the Lord sent down earthly gifts on my law-abiding God-fearing head.
