Furbee, let's calm down, shall we? Let's sit down and sort this out You don't have any money here anymore. Fuck you, you hag in a woman suit. Furbee stares at Tyler. Ambrose draws back, hand to his heart. Tyler continues in a conversational way. Go get drunk and find a new man to suck dry, though you are kind of old. I'd max out your one remaining credit card for some plastic surgery, get your ass tightened up, your vajayjay, too. The boobs, goes without saying. Get those wrinkles filled in. Do some high class fucking and sucking and then presto, back in business.
Just some friendly free advice. Blumheldt-- can you wait a bit, Mrs. Blumheldt isn't feeling well. I can assure you What is a vajayjay?? How dare this little sawed off bit of nothing talk to me at all??? I am worth millions to this bank, what is he worth?? I want him fired. I hear they can surgically drawstring em back up. For telling the truth about your financial situation? Since when is it a crime to tell the truth? Tyler, for God's sake Is there anything else? The accounts can't be unfrozen. Your name is not on them.
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You had permission to dip into them but that permission is now gone. Should have made it into a joint account, you silly trusting bitch. But don't worry, Mr. Furbee will tire of his new young thang and find the next young thang who will put up with his wrinkled ball sacks.
Script Archive: 10 Minute Plays
They, too, will be in here demanding we unfreeze the accounts He told me he loved me. He told me to trust him, that he would never hurt me. I was in love with the hairy little dwarf. Ambrose glares at Tyler, makes a slashing motion across his throat. Tyler shrugs at this. Furbee, who shakes her head, then reconsiders, takes a huge swig and chokes. So I put iced tea in my last known bottle of Jack and pretend. Are you quite finished? I want you cleared out and out of here, now. I want your keys turned in, now I don't think so.
Ambrose steps back at once. Furbee goes very still, now watching Tyler with a surprised, horrified expression. He's one of those Middle East mad bombers I need you to think very carefully about this, Tyler. I know about your problems I'm just trying to do my job. Do you want some stranger to blow up the bank or would you rather have a friend and associate do it?
Except we're not really friends, we don't understand each other. They have pills for this.
I know they do. I don't even take aspirin. Isn't that the name outside? Or is it the Bank of Fuck you very much, we're going to charge thirty percent interest on your credit cards to cover costs at our Christmas parties, except we can't use Christmas because it offends everyone who's not Christian, so we say holiday, but then people still get offended because it's an oblique reference to holy or some such shit I can't remember all the PC ramifications.
Is that a real bomb? Are you a terrorist? I'm just your average bank employee She won't get them anyway. She's no good at charades. Ambrose makes a squeaky sound and looks at the floor. Furbee rises until Tyler signals she should remain seated. Come and sit, Ambrose old buddy. What a wimpy gassy sort of name. Do you fart a lot? I can picture you farting all day long. Ambrose sits reluctantly, keeps casting his gaze around. Now what is going on? Has something happened at home?
Who cares, he's got bombs, guns, probably a tank You want a hard candy, Mrs. Do you have a first name? I never eat candy. Let's talk reasonably and calmly Oh let's not, how boring. Let's talk unreasonably and excitedly. You never eat candy?? Not even Pop Rocks? I love Pop Rocks. Is there something you wished us to do, Tyler?
Is there something you wished to tell us? I was talking to Furbee here. I asked her about candy. I just don't believe her when she says she doesn't eat it. I bet in secret you hide in a closet and stuff yourself full of Snickers. You would be wrong. I do yoga and eat organic.
People can see your gun. They're going to call the police. The police should come.
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Nobody is saying that. That is not our official position.
All Plays for Schools
Tyler bites his lip then laughs, long and hard. Ambrose not sure what to do. Okay, okay, laughter is good. I'll get away with everything right now because of my wife. She killed herself in the bathtub this morning. She found out she had osteoarthritus, which her grandmother died from. You know, where your bones start to grind together because the tendons disintegrate. Tyler, we can work through this We're not a couple, unless you swing that way, baby. I never heard you did. Nobody ever talks about you, you're terribly boring and forgettable.
You're not really attacking me. Maybe I should go home. Obviously this whole bomb and gun thing has nothing to do with me. Why don't you do just that, with our apologies, of course.
10-Minute Plays for Jane's Walk 2018
We can't always predict Why would you want to go home? An empty house you can't pay for? How long until the repo men come and cart that monstrosity away? I know for a fact Mr. Alec Furbee, your soon to be ex, did not finish paying off the mortgage, which this bank holds. He very generously put that in your name, by the way, did you know that? That means, if the loan defaults, you pay, it's your credit report it goes on He said he took my name off. Can I get my name off that loan thingie today?? That is not important right now.
We're trying to fix this-- [Nods head at Tyler's chest and the gun. Why don't you wake up, wise up and figure out a few things yourself instead of depending on us men to take care of you ad nauseum???!! I'm so tired of needy, bitchy, high-maintenance bitches. Ambrose looks away from both, whistles or blows air out.
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