A rambling, ramshackle house on the plots, early evening.

The set comprises an untidy, cluttered office adjacent to a workshop [part of which we see through a double-door opening in the rear wall]. There is a large desk [SR], creaking beneath the weight of grubby files and ledgers. The swivel chair behind the desk looks as though it has been attacked by a pack of rabid hyenas. The single back seat of a minibus taxi serves as a sofa; a neatly-folded old Pep Stores blanket is draped over it. In front of the seat, a cloth-covered crate serves as a coffee table. On a tatty notice board on the wall behind the desk there is a garish calendar, designs for metal gates, signs and memos. Against the back wall is a tiny washbasin, with an old bar-type mirror above it. Beside it is a table on which stands a decrepit miniature fridge. A tall, narrow, battered, padlocked metal locker stands at the entrance to the workshop. It is festooned with Orlando Pirates memorabilia – an old team photo and decals. There are various makeshift shelves against other walls, all weighed down with accumulated bric-a-brac. In the middle of the wall [SL] there is a window, in front of which hangs an ancient venetian blind, permanently semi-open. An archway leads to the interior of the house [downstage SR] and a small vestibule leads to the [front] exterior door [downstage SL]. A metal bucket stands centre stage, midway between the desk and the car seat.

As pre-set lighting slowly begins to fade, Johnny Clegg's ‘Your Time Will Come’ [from Heat, Dust and Dreams] kicks in over the sound system. The song continues as lights fade up on the empty office. Presently, DWAYNE, a tanned, weatherbeaten individual in his early sixties enters, breathing heavily [SL]. A real East Rand Cowboy, he wears an old brown leather bomber jacket, checked shirt, well-worn denim jeans and veldskoene. He packs a revolver at his hip and wields a battered, bloodied baseball bat. Stopping just inside the doorway, he picks up a piece of newspaper and wipes the bat clean, tossing it onto the car seat. Reaching for the bucket, he places it beneath the tiny basin. He heads for the fridge-table and, uncapping his Klipdrift brandy bottle, notices his hand is shaking rather badly.