(Spex and 2 Tons are sitting on a park bench, scoping out the scenery and I don’t mean foliage. Or do I?)
Spex: Dude! Dude! Dude! Dude! Dude! Dude! Dude! Check her out.
2 Tons: Yowza!
Spex: Double Yowza!
2 Tons: She just radiates sexuality.
Spex: I’d like to radiate some sexuality at her, if you know what I mean.
2 Tons: With your sex radiator?
Spex: You got it, bro!
(They high-five.)
Spex: Whoa, hold on, flip your gaze stage-left! Check this lady out.
2 Tons: Homina Homina Homina!
Spex: And a fourth Homina!
2 Tons: She is a super freak, you don’t take her home to mother.
Spex: I’d like to take her home to mother, if you get my meaning.
2 Tons: For comparison?
Spex: You got it, bro!
(They high-five.)
Spex: Sweet Joey Christmas, check him out!
2 Tons: Double take!
Spex: Triple take!
2 Tons: He’s a God, torn from the thigh of Zeus.
Spex: I’d like to thigh his Zeus, if you catch my drift.
2 Tons: With your Mount Olympus?
Spex: You got it, bro!
(They high-five.)
Spex: Holy shit, German Shepherd, five o’clock! Check it out!
2 Tons: Make me a sandwich!
Spex: A double-decker sandwich!
2 Tons: That canine has cat-burgled my heart.
Spex: I’d like to cat burgle its heart, if you follow my wavelength.
2 Tons: (Pauses, attempting to follow Ike’s wavelength.) With your love gloves?
Spex: You got it, bro!
(They high-five.)
Spex: Good Christ, check out that lamppost!
2 Tons: Shoot the Piano Player!
Spex: The Pope Must Diet!
2 Tons: That is one hot source of light.
Spex: I’d like to heat up its light source, if you comprehend my statement.
2 Tons: In your convection oven?
Spex: No.
(Pause. The lights begin to fade.)
Spex: God, I wanna titty-fuck that sunset.
(Blackout. Scene is done with!)
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Transcript from official moon landing: "One small step for man, one giant leap closer to titty-fucking the sunset."
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