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Sexual Perversity in Chicago
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Sexual Perversity in Chicago
from the play by
David Mamet
DANNY SHAPIRO and BERNIE LITKO are seated at a singles bar.
DANNY: So how'd you do last night?
BERNIE: Are you kidding me?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you fucking kidding me?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you pulling my leg?
DANNY: So?
BERNIE: So tits out to here so.
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Twenty, a couple years old.
DANNY: You gotta be fooling.
BERNIE: Nope.
DANNY: You devil.
BERNIE: You think she hadn't been around?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: She hadn't gone the route?
DANNY: She knew the route, huh?
BERNIE: Are you fucking kidding me?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: She *wrote* the route.
DANNY: No shit, around 20, huh?
BERNIE: Nineteen, 20.
DANNY: You're talking about a girl.
BERNIE: Damn right.
DANNY: You're telling me about some underage stuff.
BERNIE: She don't gotta be but 18.
DANNY: Was she?
BERNIE: Shit, yes.
DANNY: Then OK.
BERNIE: She made 18 easy.
DANNY: Well, then.
BERNIE: Had to punch in at 20, 25 easy.
DANNY: Then you got no problem.
BERNIE: I know I got no problem.
DANNY: So tell me.
BERNIE: So OK, so where am I?
DANNY: When?
BERNIE: Last night, 2:30.
DANNY: So 2:30 you're probably over at Yak-Zies.
BERNIE: Left Yak-Zies at one.
DANNY: So you're probably over at Grunt's.
BERNIE: They only got a two-o'clock license.
DANNY: So you're probably over at the Commonwealth.
BERNIE: So OK, so I'm over at the Commonwealth, in the pancake house off the
lobby, and I'm working on a stack of those raisin-and-nut jobs--
DANNY: They're good.
BERNIE: And I'm reading the paper, and I'm reading, and I'm casing the pancake
house, and the usual shot, am I right?
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: So who walks in over to the cash register but this chick.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: Nineteen, 20-year-old chick--
DANNY: Who we're talking about.
BERNIE: And she wants a pack of Viceroys.
DANNY: I can believe that.
BERNIE: Gets the smokes and she does this number about how she forgot her purse
up in her room.
DANNY: Up in her room?
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: Was she a pro?
BERNIE: At that age?
DANNY: Yeah.
BERNIE: Well, at this point, we don't know. So, anyway, I go over to her and
ask can I front her for the smokes, and she says she couldn't, and then
she says, Well, all right, and would I like to join her in a cup of
coffee.
DANNY: She asked you--
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: For a cup of coffee?
BERNIE: Right.
DANNY: And all this time she was 19?
BERNIE: Nineteen, 20. So down we sit and get to talking. This, that, blah,
blah, blah, and "Come up to my room and I'll pay you back for the
cigarettes."
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: You're shitting me.
BERNIE: I'm telling you.
DANNY: And was she a pro?
BERNIE: So at this point, we don't know. Pro, semipro, Betty Coed from college,
regular young broad, it's anybody's ball game. So, anyway, up we go.
Fifth floor on the alley and it's "Sit down, you wanna drink?" "What
you got?" "Bourbon." "Fine." And goddamn if she doesn't lay half a rock
on me for the cigarettes.
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yeah.
DANNY: So this changes the complexity of things.
BERNIE: For a bit, yes. But *then* what shot does she up and pull?
DANNY: You remind her of her ex.
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: She's never done anything like this before in her life?
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: She just got into town, and do you know where a girl like her could
make a little money?
BERNIE: No.
DANNY: So, I'm not going to lie to you, what shot does she pull?
BERNIE: The shot she is pulling is the following two things: A, she says,
"I think I want to take a shower."
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: Yes. And B, she says, "And then let's fuck."
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: What did I just tell you?
DANNY: She said that?
BERNIE: I hope to tell you.
DANNY: Nineteen years old?
BERNIE: Nineteen, 20.
DANNY: And was she a pro?
BERNIE: So at this point, I don't know. But I do say I'll join her in the
shower, if she has no objections.
DANNY: Of course.
BERNIE: So into the old shower. And does this broad have a *body*?
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: Are you kidding me?
DANNY: So tell me.
BERNIE: The *tits*--
DANNY: Yeah?
BERNIE: The *legs*--
DANNY: The ass?
BERNIE: Are you fucking fooling me? The *ass* on this broad--
DANNY: Young ass, huh?
BERNIE: Well, yeah, young broad, young ass.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: And lathering her--
DANNY: Mmmm.
BERNIE: And drop the *soap*... This, that, and we get out. Toweling off, each
of us in his or her full glory. So while we're toweling off, I flick
the towel at her, very playfully, and by accident it catches her a good
one on the ass, and, *thwack*, a big red mark.
DANNY: No.
BERNIE: So I'm all sorry, and so forth. But what does this broad do but let out
a squeal of pleasure and relief that would fucking kill a horse.
DANNY: Huh?
BERNIE: So what the hell, I'm liberal.
DANNY: If that's her act, that's her act.
BERNIE: Goes without saying. So I look around, figuring to follow in my
footsteps, and what is handy but this little G.E. clock radio. So I
pick the mother up and heave it at her. Catches her across the shoulder
blades and we've got this long welt.
DANNY: Draw blood?
BERNIE: At this point, no. So what does she do? She says, "Wait a minute," and
she crawls under the bed. From under the bed she pulls this suitcase,
and from out of the suitcase comes this World War Two flak suit.
DANNY: They're hard to find.
BERNIE: Zip, zip, zip, and she gets into the flak suit and we get down on the
bed.
DANNY: What are you doing?
BERNIE: Fucking.
DANNY: She's in the flak suit?
BERNIE: Right.
DANNY: How do you get in?
BERNIE: How do you think I get in? She leaves the zipper open.
DANNY: That's what I thought.
BERNIE: But the shot is, while we're fucking, she wants me, every 30 seconds or
so, to go *Boom* at the top of my lungs.
DANNY: At her?
BERNIE: No, just in general. So we're humping and bumping and greasing the old
flak suit and every once in a while I go *Boom*, and she starts in on
me. "Turn me over," she says, so I do. She's on her stomach, I'm on
top--
DANNY: They got a flap in the back of the flak suit?
BERNIE: Yes. So she's on her stomach, etc. In the middle of everything, she
slithers over to the side of the bed, picks up the house phone, and
says, "Give me room 511."
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: "Who are you calling?" I say. "A friend," she says. So OK. They answer
the phone. "Patrice," she says, "it's me. I'm up here with a friend
and I could use a little help. Could you help me out?"
DANNY: Ah-ha!
BERNIE: So wait. So I don't know what the shot is. All of a sudden, I hear
coming out of the phone: "Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat. Ka-*pow*!
Ak-ak-ak-ak-ak-ak-ak. Ka-*pow*!" So fine. I'm pumping away, the
chick on the other end is making airplane noises, every once in a while
I go *Boom* and the broad on the bed starts going crazy. She's moaning
and groaning and about to go the whole long route. Humping and bumping,
and she's screaming, "Red Dog One to Red Dog Squadron"... all of a
sudden, she screams, "Wait!" She wriggles out, leans under the bed and
pulls out this five-gallon jerry can.
DANNY: Right.
BERNIE: Opens it up... It's full of gasoline. So she splashes the mother all
over the walls, whips a fuckin' Zippo out of the flak suit and
*Whoosh*, the whole room is in flames. So the whole fuckin' joint is
going up in smoke, the telephone is going "Rat-tat-tat," the broad
jumps back on the bed and yells, "Now, give it to me *now*, for the
love of Christ!"
(Pause)
So I look at the broad... and I figure... fuck this nonsense. I grab
my clothes, I peel a sawbuck off my wad, as I make the door, I fling it
at her. "For cab fare," I yell. She doesn't hear nothing. One, two,
six, I'm in the hall. Struggling into my shorts and hustling for the
elevator. Whole fucking hall is full of smoke; above the flames I can
just make out my broad-- she's singing, "Off we go into the wild blue
yonder"-- and the elevator arrives, and the whole fucking hall is full
of *firemen*.
(Pause)
Those fucking firemen make out like bandits.
(Pause)
DANNY: Nobody does it normally anymore.
BERNIE: It's these young broads. They don't know what the fuck they want.
DANNY: You think she was a pro?
BERNIE: A pro, Dan--
DANNY: Yes.
BERNIE: Is how you think about yourself. You see my point?
DANNY: Yeah.
BERNIE: Well, all right, then. I'll tell you one thing... she knew all the
pro moves.
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