A monologue from the play by Katori Hall
TOYIA (late twenties-early thirties, African-American)
Toyia is the nosy neighborhood gossip and she works as an exotic dancer at the local “shake junt”. She’s Cornbread’s “babymama” and considers herself a feminist.
TILAPIA! I know you ain’t sittin on my brand new muthaf***in’ Camero. I can’t tell! well, pop yo’ a** right back off it then. These project kids don’t know who they messin’ wit. Can’t wait to move out this muthaf***a.
(She begins to dance and snap her fingers to the beat. Something by the R & B Pied Piper. R Kelly.) Oooooo! I hate this song! (She makes her booty clap on the beat.) Trapped in the closet 44 was good though.
But I got that sh*t free from the Bootleg man, don’t play. You won’t catch me buyin not a na’an ‘nother R Kelly CD. I ain’t got time to puttin’ no scrilla in no pedophile’s pockets.
I’m a muthaf***in’ feminist! Is that n*ggah ever gone go on trial? That b*tch just don’t wanna give up her allowance, hell, can’t say I would either, but that n*ggah need to be put on punishment, or somethin’.
She can’t let him get away with that sh*t. She need to put him on “pu**y punishment.” Tru that! Sh*t, “pu**y punishment” the next birth control. Cornbread ain’t bout to burn my shake junt body out.
Awww, hell to the the naw, naw, naw. But the folks up at the hospital really know about pu**y punishment. Folks up there had the nerve to try to tie my tubes after I had LaQwana.
Nurse come over to the bed before they give me my epidural talkin’ bout, “The doctor recommends that a woman with your history try a surgical approach to birth control.”
She might as well said “N*gger-b*tch, we don’t want y’all to be havin no mo’ of yo’ n*gger children so we shuttin’ down the reproductive power of yo’ pu**y!” I said,
“B*tch, if you don’t get them muthaf***in’ papers out my muthaf***in’ face I’ma stick a gun up in yo’ muthaf***in’ chest, and you won’t be needin’ no doctor after I’m finish witchu. You gone need a coroner.”
Hell, I raised the terror alert to red up in that b*tch! But she right though. I ain’t got time for na’an one mo’ child. And that way Cornbread on “pu**y punishment.” Put some red up in my head.