Gorgeous loft space in the city, exposed brick, wooden floors and all that jazz.
HE stands on top of a stool with his arms spread out like an airplane. In his left hand he holds a joint and in his right hand he holds a large glass of wine. He is wearing suit pants/dress shirt and stares hazily down at a cockroach slowly crawling past on the floor.
SHE is up a short flight of stairs – getting dressed
He uses his saliva to try and land a water bomb on the roach. after his second attempt, he pours his glass of wine on it. Chuckles.
HE: Got you, fucker. Ha ha.
He takes turns between staring straight out and staring down at the drowning roach.
….it’s like the head; when my head was leaning on my arms…I was looking at the; I was seeing the light and I thought the light was one and was playing bets with myself…cause I…I thought that the light was on but it was coming from the sun. Did you get that? Did you get that thought, right there?
(he burps violently) (to HER)
Fucking dream I had…dreamed that I, I was, wait…I can’t think of what I dreamed about in my dream…wai-..something about my head against a (rising tone) toilet bowl and staring at random pubes that were dangling for their lives off the rim of the toilet!! That’s it! I was puking up late last night when I got home…and I—YEAH, I remember my pubic hairs started moving and one of them spoke to me. He was a little guy, some little tiny pube…started slithering on its belly like a snake and then he kind of pressed himself up with his arms and stood up straight and spoke to me…YEAH Duuu—he was like, “When you gonna clean the rim of the bowl? Don’t you know it stinks when you piss? Don’t you smell that? I’ve been lying here for eight days since I landed. Clean me up, moron!” This skinny ass pube was trash talking me for a whole minute, all while I’m puking…I have this pube in my ear, giving me this monologue lecture.
SHE comes in the room wearing a dress and raises the shades to the window. The light beams through his head.
Ohhhww…could ya…would you turn the shades down, back down. Ohhhw MAN that feels like a free headache. Free headache…I’ve—(beat) Can I sit, if I don’t I may piss myself…blind.
SHE: Get off the stool before you snap your neck.
HE: How’s my sexy tits?
SHE: Sexy tits is fine. Are you ready to go?
HE: Come on, show me…let me see them real quick.
SHE: I just ordered the cab, we have five minutes to get downstairs.
HE: Come on! Really quick before we go.
SHE: I’m wearing a dress.
HE: You almost ready?
SHE: I’m ready. We need to head downstairs.
HE: That was fast.
SHE: Well, I shaved three hours to two hours.
HE: Two hours?
HE: That felt like twenty minutes.
SHE: I told you I’ve gotten faster.
HE: Babe, can i ask you something?
SHE: What is it now?
HE: Hey babe…tell me truth; do I fuck you enough?
SHE: We fuck like crazy, don’t we?
HE: Are you satisfied?
SHE: Why wouldn’t I be?
HE: Just because two people have loads of sex, doesn’t mean it’s any good.
SHE: What are you saying? You don’t enjoy having sex with me?
HE: No, no, no, no, no. Of course I do!
SHE: I’m just saying cause—
HE: No, it’s are you enjoying it with me? That’s what—
SHE: I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.
SHE: Yeah. Do you actually think I would spend this much time with someone if the sex wasn’t any damn good?
HE: So you don’t fake it?
HE: Never ever.
HE: Not even once.
SHE: Once but not with you, oh, wait…
HE: With who then?
SHE: A few ex’s ago. But wait, wait, that’s not true.
HE: What’s not?
SHE: I did fake it with you once.
HE: You did?!
SHE: It was in your parents basement and I was uncomfortable and just acted like I went because I didn’t want them to hear us so it was for good intention. Doesn’t count.
HE: That’s horrible.
SHE: Get over it. At least I’m honest.
HE: I get it. But you said before that you wouldn’t be with me if the sex wasn’t any good. A bit shallow though, right?
SHE: Shallow? Ha! There’s nothing shallow about being satisfied. What’s wrong with you?
HE: I’m only saying, I’m bringing this up cause—
SHE: Let’s get downstairs. Cab is in like three minutes.
HE: Yes but wait, HOLD ON, I’m trying to say that if I sucked in bed, we wouldn’t be together?
SHE: We wouldn’t.
HE: What about the other stuff?
SHE: What other stuff?
HE: The other stuff, the love stuff.
SHE:…What about it?
HE: Doesn’t that count?
SHE: It does but one doesn’t outweigh the other.
HE: Woah. So if I got into some horrible accident and can only blink my eyes, you’d walk?
SHE: Look, I love you and all, yes, but why should I be tortured if you’re broken?
HE: I can’t believe what you’re telling me.
SHE: You asked. I answered. Come on, the cab!
HE: Wait. So, you’re saying, much too honestly I might add, that you wouldn’t stay by my side.
SHE: I have a life to live too. Stop being so selfish.
HE: That’s fucked.
SHE: It’s just my deal. Don’t you want me to be honest?
HE: Yeah, but—not that honest. What if we had kids.
SHE: Yeah, I need the whole package baby and right now your package is perfect.
HE: But what if I get shittier over time?
HE: That’s a lot of pressure on a man.
SHE: I hold my end up, don’t I?
HE: Point taken.
SHE: You better not start slipping up on me.
HE: No, no, I won’t, I won’t.
SHE: Good boy.
HE: (barks like a dog)
HE: (barks louder)
SHE: Roll over.
HE: (he spins around in a circle)
SHE: Don’t play dead.
HE: I won’t baby.
(they both exit)