A Cover Song of Some Fire, Weetabix and Ice, Ice, Ice, Baby.

*Randall Wallom and a Penelope Bobina stand on stage facing the audience. They are both young and dressed in dirty, peasant clothing. Penelope however, is clad in a low cut dress that reveals her cleavage.*

Randall: Shall we visit the…um…

*Randall temporarily forgets his line*

Penelope: Yes, Randall. We shall visit the butcher’s today to buy meat for mother.

Randall: Ah yes, I do feel bad for mother after father um…

*Randall once again forgets his shittily written exposition*

Penelope: After father died from random death that served us no purpose whatsoever. Yes, terrible.

Randall: Well, before we do that, shall we er…you know?

Penelope: No…I don’t.

Randall: Shall we do the old….game of boning.

Penelope:….Oh for fuck’s sake.

*Penelope throws her arms up in the air*

Penelope: Mark, you said you wouldn’t pull this shit.

Randall: But George told me I had to!

*All disbelief has been thrown out the window as Penelope pulls the script from her cleavage*

Penelope: I don’t remember this being in the script.

Randall: George just told me.

Penelope: GEORGE! Get out here, I’ve had enough of this!

*George R.R.R.R.R. Tolkien walks out on stage with a crown and a robe made of squirrels. He also smells.*

G.R.T: You’re ruining my vision! Game of Boning is a genius line! Why aren’t you turned on, Penelope?

Penelope: You need to stop calling me that!

G.R.T: Silence, Penelope! Also, put that script back in your bra. Your boobs have gotten smaller.

Mark: I think we should do this in private…you know…away from the audience.

*All three individuals awkwardly stare at the audience*

G.R.T: AHA! It was my plan all along! I made this happen! Aren’t you shocked!???!

Penelope: …No.

G.R.T: What if someone died!?

Penelope: Can you please just pay us n-

G.R.T: DEATH SCENE YOU SAY!?

*G.R.T. pulls out a massive fucking scythe from his squirrel robe and chops off Mark’s shins.*

Penelope: OH MY GOD.

Mark: OH JESUS. OH FUCK.

*Mark painfully scrambles for help as the audience cheers.*

G.R.T.: What a twist!

Penelope: Mark! Are you OK!? Stay with me.

*G.R.T. starts to take Mark’s clothes off*

Penelope: Get off of him, you psycho!

G.R.T.: Time for the sex scene!

Penelope: What?!

*G.R.T. grabs a screaming Penelope and begins to thrust her up and down on top of Mark’s bleeding, soon to be corpse*

Penelope: FUCKING JESUS CHRIST GET OFF ME.

G.R.T.: NAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED!?

*Audience cheers*

Audience member: So sexy!

*This is certainly not sexy*

G.R.T.: Did I mention that they’re siblings!?

*G.R.T. continues to thrust the poorly paid actors on top of each other. He eventually fatigues and lets go.*

Penelope: Get away from me! All of you!

G.R.T.: Oh, you’re so boring, Penelope. It’s been like…5 minutes and you haven’t even shown me your tits.

Penelope: FUCK. YOU.

G.R.T.: Well, there’s always plan B. Or should I say – PLAN BOOBIES!?

*G.R.T. grabs a bag literally labelled plan boobies and throws it’s contents on top of Mark.*

Mark: What are you doing?

G.R.T.: Nipples of course!

*Hundreds of disembodied, bloody nipples are piling on top of Mark, who has become severely pale and can barely move. Audience still cheers*

G.R.T.: God dammit, I spent hours making that pile and now it’s starting to smell. I wonder if there’s another primary school around here. Hey, Penelope! Come back!

*G.R.T. manages to grab Penelope’s foot before she gets away. He manages to drag her back despite her kicking and screaming.*

G.R.T.: Don’t forget that you’re the cousin’s stepsister of a guy who was related to the mailman who delivered mail to the servant of the mother of Dragons!

Penelope: I don’t…I don’t understand.

G.R.T: Meet your beloved Dragons!

*A stage hand pushes a cage of animals onto the stage. As they leave the cage, it appears to be 2 stray dogs and a cat. They all have bloody pigeon wings crudely stapled onto their backs. The “Dragons” awkwardly stumble around the stage, confused and dazed. Penelope recognizes the cat.*

Penelope: NOOOO! PEPPERMINT!

*Penelope begins to cry. G.R.T. doesn’t seem to care.*

G.R.T.: That’s what you get for not going ahead with my brilliantly written girl on cat sex scene.

Penelope: JUST FUCK OFF.

G.R.T.: But it added so much to the story!

Audience: Sounds sexy!

*No it isn’t*

*G.R.T. starts to mumble his own soundtrack to add to the drama*

G.R.T.: Doodoodododooodddoo babbabaababa BWAAAA BWAAAAA BWAAAAA.

*G.R.T. eventually runs out of breath.*

G.R.T.: Commence fire!

*The “Dragons” start to fall to the ground, twitching helplessly*

G.R.T.: Oh for God’s sa-….*sigh*

*G.R.T. grabs a flamethrower from a stage hand. He can’t seem to work it, so he begins to inspect it*

G.R.T.: Maybe if I hit this bu-

*G.R.T. sets himself on fire*

G.R.T.: AHHHH JESUS. OH FUCKING HELL.

*Audience still cheers*

Audience: How shocking!

G.R.T.: You’re right! Even in death I am shocking!

*Mark is pretty much dead and Peppermint viciously attacks Penelope. G.R.T. spends his last moments twitching on the ground in his charred remains….but at least the audience enjoyed the show. You sick fucks.*

SCENE ENDS

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EIGHTY. FUCKING. THREE.

*Scene starts with KarenKallo writing at her desk until she hears a knock at the door*Voice: KNOCK. KNOCK.

KarenKallo: Come in, Knock.

*Enter Knock*

Knock: Hello, Karen.

KarenKallo: Kallo.

Knock: Kallo?

KarenKallo: Karen.

Knock: Hello, Karen.

KarenKallo: OH WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP, ALREADY!? GOD. I’M TIRED OF HEARING YOUR FAR LEFT WING POLITICS.

Knock: Leave my wing out of this!

KarenKallo: Anyway, what did you need?

Knock: Well, Miss Doctor –

KarenKallo: I’m a Doctor?

Knock: You are now.

KarenKallo: Sweet as!

Knock: Enough about my ass, I need help with my nasolabial folds.

KarenKallo: Your….your what?

Knock: Naso….labial….foooooooooooo-

KarenKallo: That can’t be what I think it means.

Knock: Go on…say it.

KarenKallo: You mean…like…a nose vagina?

Knock: What the…the hell are you talking about Mrs Doctor Woman!? I mean the folds on my face.

KarenKallo: Oh…see…this is why I assumed I wasn’t a Mrs Doctor Woman Lord.

Knock: Don’t be silly your, highness Doctor Spaceboob, you’re a brilliant medical physician. My nose vagina can wait another time.

KarenKallo: Your what now?

Knock: Could you please just listen to me!? Why do we never talk anymore?! When was the last time we talked!?

KarenKallo: Um…what are we doing now?

Knock: DANCING!

*A sick ass Jazz tune plays in the background*

Knock: Cha cha cha cha, ha cha cha cha. Ah fuck it.

*Knock flips the desk over*

KarenKallo: My desk!

Knock: Exactly! But seriously, you should research your Nasolabial flaps.

KarenKallo: Let me consult Wikipedia.

*Pause*

KarenKallo: WIKIPEDIA. GET THE FUCK IN HERE.

*Enter Wikipedia, a lanky, skinny, naked old man with a foetus attached to his ear which appears to be violently slobbering over Wikipedia’s face*

Wikipedia: Grababdurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

*KarenKallo and Knock both break down into laughter*

KarenKallo: Oh ho ho ho, well played, sir.

Knock: Quite, quite.

KarenKallo: Now get in the bag.

Wikipedia: Durr?

Knock: Do it! Now! At his most vulnerable!!!

*Knock traps Wikipedia in a giant bag*

*Sirens are heard in the background*

KarenKallo: The Keppers….they tailed you! How the fuck could you be so stupid!?

Knock: I didn’t think, there were only so many children I co-

KarenKallo: Shut up, let’s just get this over with.

*KarenKallo and Knock rush over to the cupboard and pull out giant novelty pineapples*

Knock: I hope you knock what you’re doing.

KarenKallo: Don’t I?

Knock: ….Do you?

KarenKallo: LIQUORICE.

Knock: Quite.

*KarenKallo and Knock both drag the bag that contains Wikipedia while toting bad ass pineapples. They kick down the door and venture outside towards the sirens.*

KarenKallo: FOR THE UBERMENSCH.

Knock: Yeah… I guess.

*Scene Ends*

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Your Birds but Life’s Bees.

Scene starts with Blatantly Kate Middleton lying on a couch next to a small cot. Blatantly Prince Willy enters the room holding a package covered in brown paper and string. B.P Willy strokes the mysterious package as Kate looks on in wonder.

B.K Midz: You got the stuff didn’t you?

B.P Willy: Who says I did?

B.K Midz: The shirt that says “I like packages. Especially when they are within my possession and tied up in this particular string that I enjoy wiping my nose with”

B.K Midz points to the particular phrase that is printed on the white shirt that Willy is wearing

Willy: Wow, you can read me like a book.

Midz: Thank you for the offer but I am afraid that we must spend our time doing parental things, parentally.

Willy: But I don’t WANT to do things parentally. I want to do things sillyly.

Midz: Like make impossible adverbs?

Willy: You can knead me pike a cook.

Midz: Let’s have sex right now!

The couple’s soon to be sexy adventure is suddenly impeded by the crying of the child in the cot

Midz: Hmm…I forgot about that.

Willy: How can you forget about a screaming child?

Midz: Quite easily and quite sillyly.

Willy: I love you.

Midz: Let’s have se-

Willy: No, no…we’ve been down this road.

Midz: You know what they call a baby in France?

Willy: What?

Midz: A Royale with scorching hot lead.

Midz pulls out a container labelled with the very term “Scorching Hot Lead” and proceeds to pour it into the cot. Needless to say the baby isn’t particularly enthusiastic.

Willy:….I think you just killed our child.

Midz: Let’s hav-

Willy: SILENCE!

Midz:….

Willy: Wait, what were you going to say?

Midz: …Nothing.

Willy: Well you might as well tell me.

Enter a naked, hairy man who slowly shuffles across the stage staring at the audience. His name is Subtext.

Subtext: SUUUUUUUUUUBBBBBBBTEEEEEEXXXXXXTTTTTTTT.

Mysterious Voice: Yes…indeed. Yo. Uh. Bangin’.

Midz: Is that really him?

King Louis XV enters the room, because why the fuck not.

King Louis: Sup, ma nobilities.

Willy: SQUEEE!!!!

Willy drops to the floor and begins tonguing Louis’ knees. 

Louis: Is this whiteboy always pullin’ this lame ass jivin’?

Midz looks on in sadness.

Midz:…No. Sad face.

Subtext: You know, there was never a baby in here. Oh and err…SUUUUBBBTTTTEEEEEXXXXTTTTT.

Willy: Wait, then what was all that preggers fuss about?

Midz: My attempt to cover up the fact that I am a giant scorpion.

Willy:….

Subtext: …..

Louis: Dis bitch fo’ real or wha-

Midz turns into a giant Scorpion

Midz: I’m not very good at it.

Willy: Well…this will make sex awkward.

Louis: Or more bangin’, yo.

Willy: Tru dat.

Midz: Word.

Subtext: You guys are weird. Also Subtext. Bangin’ loads of subtext.

Scene Ends.

With a Bang.

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I Am A Bumfuzzling Prick

Enter HOST, holding a large microphone in front of a dinner table in the center of the stage.

Host: And welcome back to Come Dine With My Meal! The hottest reality show in all of realitydom! This week, a young couple from down under is going to give us the down low on their favourite pass times. They’ll be chatting with an elderly couple from The Bronx. Let’s hope we get some confrontation! DO WE WANT CONFRONTATION!

Awkward silence

Host: OH YES WE DO! DO YOU WANT SOME CONFRONTATION?!

Awkward silence

Host: That’s what I thought! But not like that! OH YES, LIKE THAT!

Awkward silence

Host: Ha, ha. Quite. Let’s welcome our first couple, the lovely Everquinns!

An elderly couple gingerly walk onto the stage. ABRAHAM, the husband, is holding a paper spoon while his wife, HEATHER vacantly stares into space as she blinks aggressively. ABRAHAM’S left eye is covered by an eyepatch.

Host: Wonderful, wonderful. WOOOOOOOO!

Silence

HOST sits ABRAHAM and HEATHER down to the table

Host: So, Abraham. How did you and Heather meet?

Abraham: Sorry?

Host: After you got dumped by Kelly? The other love of your life? 70 years ago?

Abraham: I don’t follow.

Host: You didn’t follow Kelly in bed either.

Abraham: I don’t get why you –

Host: I was there. Watching.

Abraham: I’m sorry?

Host: And masturbating.

Heather: So was I.

Abraham: Heather! How could you?

Heather: I wasn’t watching, I was only masturbating.

Abraham: Well that’s OK then.

Host: FUCK THAT SHIT!

HOST punches HEATHER in the left eye. HEATHER screams and falls to the floor

Host: OOOOH YEAH! THAT’S WHAT WE WANT! OH YES WE DO.

Silence

Abraham: Did you have to hit her?

Host: Ratings, dude!

Abraham: What’s a rating?

Host: That time when Kelly dumped your lame ass, dude!

Abraham: What’s a dude?

Host: That time when Kelly dumped your lame ass, dude!

Abraham: I feel we’re going in ci-

Host: And our next couple to dine with us is the ever so gaping Damsons!

A younger couple shuffle onto the stage, followed by a rip snorting pop and lock routine to the sound of the lone HOST’s cheering. WOODROW laughs and kisses HOST on the cheek while his wife ASHLEY reenacts the dance routine to that scene from The Breakfast Club.

Host: Tell me, Woodrow how have you two been?

Woodrow: Well, Host I got to tell you –

Host: Tell me what?

Woodrow: GOT YOU!

Host: Oh, ho ho!

HEATHER returns to her seat

Heather: I don’t get it.

Silence

WOODROW suddenly gets out of his chair with a look of anger across his face. ASHLEY tries to placate his rage while the HOST laughs even more.

Heather: I still don’t get it.

Abraham: Don’t be silly, dear. Even I understood that one.

WOODROW’s rage seems to have vanished as he begins to fiddle with his cutlery.

Woodrow: Oh, you two seem to have some chemistry!

Host: So, let’s get down to it. What meal did you bring for us to mock, Abraham?

Abraham: I brought a spoon.

Host: Mhmm, go on.

Abraham: And a spoon is often used to facilitate the process of eating a meal.

Ashley: I like where this is headed.

Abraham: So I thought I would eat the spoon instead of the meal to bring down the system.

Host: A bit of an Anarchist are we, Abraham?

Abraham: No, just lonely.

Host: What about your wife?

Abraham: Who?

Heather: Where am I?

WOODROW stabs HEATHER’S hand with a fork on the table

Heather: Oh Christ!

Abraham: I like where this is headed.

HEATHER begins to bleed out on the table

Host: And what did you bring, WOODROW and ASHLEY?

Woodrow: Well, HOST instead of bringing a meal we decided to bring one of our friends from Australia to give this lovely couple a new experience they can’t get anywhere else!

Host: Well, bring your friend out!

Ashley: I LIKE SHOUTING!

Woodrow: Estevez! Come on out!

ESTEVEZ storms out onto the stage, knocking over furniture and leaving a trail of blood from the stagehands. ESTEVEZ squawks and punctures the floor with his spear like claws. This is because ESTEVEZ is a giant Cassowary.

Host: Beautiful!

Estevez: CRAWWWWWWW!

Heather: I don’t get it.

Estevez: CRAW? CRAWWWWWW!

ESTEVEZ mauls HEATHER without hesitation.

Host: THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! LET’S HEAR IT!

Silence

Except for the mauling of HEATHER

Host: The crowd has spoken, we have no choice but to award you as the winners!

Woodrow: What do we win?

Host: A plane trip back home!

Woodrow: Toast on tits!

ASHLEY kicks over her chair and begins to sing and dance again.

Ashley: Things look clear in black and white, the living colour tends to dye our sight, LIKE DYNAMITE!

Host: That’s all we have for tonight, folks. See you next week!

HOST tries to ride ESTEVEZ, only for the enraged Cassowary to retaliate and attack him. WOODROW sniffs ABRAHAM’S head while the remains of HEATHER roll on the floor.

Estevez: CRAWWWW!

Heather: Oh wait, I get it.

Abraham: Really?

Heather: ….No.

Scene Ends

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Angels at Sundown

CURTIS lies in bed with a figure that is currently blocked from the audience by his obese body frame. The bed is positioned from it’s side facing the audience. Honey and jam are both poured across the floor along with shredded newspaper. Curtis sits up, facing the figure next to him.

CURTIS: I enjoyed this. It’s fun to have someone I can tell my fantasies to.

Pause

CURTIS: Ever since I rid myself of that bitch, Mary I’ve been so much happier with you, dearest. Sadly, I must go to work now.

Curtis leaves the bed in nothing but his underwear. He makes his way over to the coat rack to take his hat. The figure is revealed to be a broken down female mannequin; coated in dirt and wearing a paper cutout of King Charles II’s face.

CURTIS: No, don’t say that. I did everything for you – those children at church, the shrew in my cupboard, ALL of that was for our future together. You can’t just screech those scurrilous words at me like a virulent harpy!

Pause

CURTIS: Really? You’re going to give me that lecture AGAIN!? Well I n-

Pause

CURTIS: I’m sorry, I’ll think next time. How about we make up?

CURTIS flamboyantly skips over to the bed and attempts to give the mannequin a peck on the cheek. Suddenly a loud buzzing sound blasts through the speakers in the corner. CURTIS is terrified. A booming female voice is heard on the speaker above them.

VOICE: I believe your time is up.

CURTIS: Please, just a little while longer. It needs my –

VOICE: All in good time, Scorpio.

CURTIS: Please don’t call me that again.

VOICE: Know your place, Scorpio.

CURTIS leaves the room with just his hat and his underwear. The same buzzing sound is heard again.

VOICE: Number 17, your time starts now.

A Middle aged man dressed in business attire timidly enters the room. He is holding a ticket with the number 17 written on it. He puts down his briefcase.

NUMBER 17: Oh, hello. You like my blazer? Thank you, I think we’ll like each other after all.

END

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When I meet God, I Wish to Save Him

*Scene begins*

*Enter Arpy*

Arpy: Arpy!

*Enter Darpy*

Darpy: Darpy!

Arpy: Darpy?

Darpy: Arpy?

Arpy: Darpy!

Darpy: Arpy!

Arpy: Darpy Arpy!

Darpy: Arpy Darpy!

*Enter Doop*

Doop: Arpy Darpy Doop!

*Pause*

Doop: Darpy Arpy Doop!

*Pause*

Doop: Doop Da-

*Darpy and Arpy proceed to savagely beat Doop*

Doop: AHHHH!

Darpy: Darpy! DARPY!

Arpy: Arpy! Darpy! ARPY! DARPY!

Darpy: Doop!

*Pause*

Doop: ….Darpy?

Darpy: Darpy….Darpy….DARPY.

*Darpy runs off stage screaming*

Doop: Doopy doop doo.

*Doop sucks his thumb*

Arpy: ARPY!

*Arpy strips naked and jumps into the audience*

*Scene Ends*

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The First Day is the End of the Last of The Beginning of The First Day

*Two men enter a business office. Mr Conroy is holding a briefcase containing documents as Jeremy casually sinks his hands into his pockets.*

Mr Conroy: Well, Mr Blunkett it appears that you are our top candidate for this position. Is there anything else that you wish to know?

Jeremy: Um, when do I start exactly?

Mr Conroy: The position did say immediately.

Jeremy: Oh, so…Monday?

Mr Conroy: Right now.

Jeremy: Excuse me?

Mr Conroy: Right now. That’s not a problem is it?

Jeremy: Oh, well I guess not. It is the afternoon however and I’m not really sure what I’m able to get done at this time.

Mr Conroy: Nonsense! We’ll have you introduced to all the staff and get you settled in the most optimal manner for your required position.

Jeremy: Oh well that’s br-

*Mr Conroy punches Jeremy in the stomach. Jeremy doubles over in pain.*

Jeremy: Oh my God! What are you doing!?

Mr Conroy: Stop being feeble, Jeremy and take it like a man.

*Mr Conroy attempts to strike Jeremy with a European Uppercut. Jeremy is quick enough to avoid the attack.*

Jeremy: What in God’s name are you doing!?

Conroy: Well played, Jeremy! We’ll make a top man out of you!

Jeremy: I don’t understand. You’re…you’re attacking me!

Conroy: Yes, very observant of you.

Jeremy: This isn’t appropriate behaviour.

Conroy: Is this?

*Conroy slaps Jeremy in the face*

Jeremy: You’re the manager, how can you do this?!

Conroy: I’m making you strong, my dear boy! How can I run the greatest business in the universe if I don’t mould my employees into the most capable, strongest workers alive! I destroy the weak links and bad seeds in society to create the superlative kind of people. They will breed and give birth to a dominant species!

Jeremy: You…you’re insane!

Conroy: Quite the opposite, Mr Blunkett. I believe it’s a brilliant idea. I’m surprised no one has done it before.

Jeremy: I think a man has tried it before.

Conroy: Then that man was an overlooked genius before his time, who deserves the utmost honour and recognition.

Jeremy: Um….

Conroy: And I wish to lick his shoes.

Jeremy: What?

Conroy: Ever licked a man’s shoes?

Jeremy: I don’t follow…

Conroy: That’s because you’re weak.

*Conroy grabs Jeremy in a Greco Roman knuckle lock. Jeremy falls to his knees in agony.*

Conroy: Now beg for mercy, you little cunt.

Jeremy: What!? What is this!?

Conroy: A cunt is a vagina, Jeremy. Please keep up with me.

Jeremy: OK, stop!

*Conroy releases the hold as Jeremy gets back to his feet.*

Conroy: Honestly, Jeremy have you never seen one?

Jeremy: How did we even get to this topic?

Conroy: Well, I had doubts about your sexuality from the beginning but I didn’t think it would come out like this.

Jeremy: I think you’re making the most ridiculous assumptions no-

Conroy: Hey, colleagues! Let’s all make fun of this man’s questionable sexuality!

*One man enters the room*

One Man: Ha…

*One man leaves the room*

Conroy: What a go getter! What an unbelievable specimen of his kind. He would breed with all of the alien tribes in the lost lands of Panaglia.

Jeremy: What?

Conroy: Didn’t you read my book?

Jeremy: I didn’t know you had a book. Honestly, I don’t think I would read it after the way I’ve been treated.

*Pause*

Jeremy: What?

Conroy: You’ve made me cry, Jeremy.

Jeremy: You’re not crying.

Conroy: You’re such a monster that you don’t know what crying is. I make sure that all our employees cry in the daily allocated “Crying Time Slot” between brunch  and “Act Like a Monkey Doing An Impression of David Letterman”.

Jeremy: That sounds…unique.

Conroy: You’ll love your first session.

Jeremy: I don’t think I want to be employed here.

Conroy: Well you won’t be unless you read my book. Here’s a copy.

*Conroy opens his briefcase and hands Jeremy a book*

Jeremy: Well um…thank you.

Conroy: Now masturbate viciously to it.

Jeremy: What?!

Conroy: It says on your resume that you enjoy masturbating to the strangest of material. Particularly KKK rallies.

Jeremy: I said nothing of the sort.

*Conroy pulls a document out of the same briefcase.*

Conroy: Then what’s this?

Jeremy: Your name is on it. That’s your resume!

Conroy: By jove, it is! Well observed, Jeremy. You’re a real go getter in this kind of world.

Jeremy: Um…thanks.

Conroy: Although I am not embarrassed to admit that I pleasure myself to those kinds of works. I find that certain taboo t-

Jeremy: Can you please stop talking about that?

Conroy: Well, Jeremy. I thought you’d like this kind of thing! After all, you are of that sort. Eh?

Jeremy: *Sigh* What now?

Conroy: You know what I mean. Nudge nudge.

Jeremy: I thought we were past the homosexuality thing.

Conroy: Well….you’re BEHIND that kind of thing. Am I right?

Jeremy: You’re so juvenile! How can you insinuate that I-

Conroy: What? That you are behind the equality of homosexuality and support the needs of their communities?

Jeremy: Well…I didn’t think you’d say that.

Conroy: I think highly of you, Jeremy.

Jeremy: Um…thank you.

Conroy: Is your father dead?

Jeremy: What!?

Conroy: You heard me.

Jeremy: Well…yes. My father took his life when I was young.

Conroy: I knew it, Jeremy. You are unable to accept praise because you were left without a vital part of your childhood. You can overcome this, Jeremy. I believe in you.

Jeremy: Oh, well…thank you.

Conroy: Meh, I’m bored of you now. I hate you.

Jeremy: What?

Conroy: Honestly, how stupid are you exactly? I’d hate to imagine what you came from.

Jeremy: You’re not making rational sense.

Conroy: A disgusting vagina, that’s what. That’s what we all came from.

Jeremy: Can we please stop talking about this?

Conroy: Yes, I don’t want to discuss your mother’s awful, pale sex organs. You’ve ruined vaginas for me, Jeremy.

Jeremy: Well…sorry.

Conroy: Perhaps I shall become a homosexual like you.

Jeremy: But you were making fun of me for it.

Conroy: Well, when YOU do it I can’t stand that kind of thing. But when I make love to a fellow male, we transcend the art of love making to a new kind of level.

Jeremy: Um…

Conroy: Our sweaty, muscular bodies touching each other – roaring like mighty stallions. OH, JEREMY.

Jeremy: STOP!

Conroy: Oh, don’t be a homophobe, Jeremy. It’s the 21st Century.

Jeremy: I don’t think Stallions roar either.

*Conroy bursts into spontaneous laughter*

Conroy: Ho, ho, ho! It’s as if you’ve never made vicious love to a horse before.

Jeremy: What?!

*Another man enters the room, looking perplexed*

Mr Hale: Do I have an appointment with you two?

*Conroy is suddenly stricken with fear*

Conroy: Well…I…

Hale: Is one of you Mr Blunkett? I have an appointment with him to arrange his first day at work.

Jeremy: Conroy…you’re…not really the manager?

Hale: Who are you? Do you even work here?

Conroy: I er..erm…

Hale: Security!

*Two security guards enter and take Conroy away*

Hale: I am so sorry about that. Your hand is all swollen! What did he do to you!?

Jeremy: It’s OK, Mr Hale. Everything is all right now.

Hale: It’s a strange world we live in.

Jeremy: It is indeed. You couldn’t believe the kind of stuff that…lunatic was saying!

Hale: Oh, well…I wouldn’t say lunatic.

Jeremy: You wouldn’t?

Hale: No. There are many impressive qualities in Mr Conroy that I seek in potential candidates. Why, right here is his resume that I picked up off the floor. This is the most impressive resume I have ever seen.

Jeremy: Are you being facetious, sir?

Hale: No. In fact, I have decided to hire Mr Conroy to our workforce and instantly promote this reputable man to Assistant Manager.

Jeremy: You can’t be serious.

Hale: He is a man that I can depend upon in these dark times. I need a man to brace the cold winds of evil, to stare the devil in the eye and copulate with his fiendish Stallion if that’s what it takes to get this business into the busiest street in Panaglia. And you know what else, Jeremy?

Jeremy:…What?

Hale: This.

*Hale pulls out a gun and shoots himself in the head. Blood is splattered all over Jeremy and the room*

Jeremy: Oh my God! OH CHRIST!

*Jeremy falls to his knees and sobs*

*Conroy re-enters the room*

Conroy: Jeremy, good news. I heard it through the grapevine that Hale kicked the bucket! Turns out that I may be next in line for a shot at the top! Aren’t you pleased?

Jeremy:….

Conroy: Oh don’t be so despondent, Jeremy. Listen, you’ve taken on a lot today. Me and the others have decided that it’s finally time for you to feel like one of the gang. Do you know what we do as a group?

Jeremy:…What?

Conroy: Make fun of other people. Can you do that for me?

Jeremy: I…maybe…

Conroy: Very good! We have a young intern looking to join us for a short time. Let’s give her a good ribbing, eh?

*Enter a young woman*

Intern: Hello, I’m new here and I’m not really sure who to go to. Could you help me, please?

Conroy: Oh, she’s in for it now, Jeremy. Go get her!

*Jeremy pauses for a minute, unsure what to do.*

Jeremy: Um…I…um

Intern: Yes?

*Jeremy pulls out a bus pass and throws it at the young Intern*

Jeremy: Take….that…

*Pause*

*The Intern screams and falls to the floor while panting helplessly*

Conroy: JESUS CHRIST, JEREMY. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?

Intern: My eyes! They’re burning! ALL OF MY EYES!

*The Intern claws at the nearest coffee table and accidently knocks a vase on her head which renders her unconscious*

Conroy: You….YOU MONSTER! YOU’RE LIKE HITLER OR SOMETHING, JEREMY!

Jeremy: You told me to do it!

Conroy: No, Jeremy. You can’t pin this on me. We are not a team on this one. You crossed the line. You murdered the line. You smashed the line with a vase and covered it in pieces of an Intern’s young corpse!

Jeremy: I don’t think she’s dead. Let me see if I can –

Conroy: RAPE HER!? OH MY, THERE IS NO END TO YOUR MALIGNANT DEBAUCHERY IS THERE?!? I won’t let you do it, Jeremy. There is only so much good in the world. I have to protect it!

Jeremy: Stop blaming this on me. And what are we going to do about the real corpse of the man who just committed suicide in front of me!?

*Conroy bursts into laughter*

Conroy: Ho, ho, ho! I forgot about that entirely. You’re a sharp one. A plus, my boy!

Jeremy: Yes but –

Conroy: Wait a minute, no Jeremy! You can’t possibly turn against me! I’ve been behind you since day one!

Jeremy: What?

Conroy: No Jeremy! NO!

*Conroy begins to choke himself*

Jeremy: Stop doing that and help me sort this mess out!

Conroy: I have so much to live for – races to extinguish, animals to experience.

*Conroy falls to the floor*

Conroy: Just know, Jeremy…that I’m demoting you on account of murdering two people in one day.

*Conroy seems to be dead on the floor as blood falls through his mouth. Jeremy is stunned as he observes the chaos that has taken place.*

*One Man from earlier enters the room*

One Man: Hey, matey. It’s Crying Time in Room 3 today. See you then!

*END*

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