Monday, March 12, 2012

Season 2 - Episode 10 - Act II

            Jay had never thought of himself as a typical male but that joke about men always wanting a sandwich or a nap after sex was apparently completely true.  Sarah wanted to talk about their feelings or whatever but he just wanted to eat or sleep. 
            She asked what he was thinking and before he could second guess himself he told the truth, that he was hungry and that removing condoms full of jizz was a delicate and disgusting operation and also that Captain Archer was a total idiot and Scott Bakula was horribly miscast.
            “That’s what you were thinking?”  She sounded horrified.
            “No, I was thinking about how pretty you are and uh, how you’re so great and stuff,” he smiled awkwardly.
            “You’re so full of it!” she screeched.
            He shushed her out of instinct, but then remembered that her parents weren’t home.  They went out a lot, which was awesome.  His parents never went out.  So far they’d only had sex at his house once and it had been pretty quick, literally two minutes under the Transformers blanket in the basement while his parents were upstairs.  Now there was a jizz stain on the blanket and Jay laughed to himself any time Willy fell asleep on it.
            “Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?” asked Sarah as she got dressed.
            “What do you mean?”
            “You know, going out in secret or whatever.”
            “I dunno.”  The truth is he didn’t really care but he wasn’t sure what answer Sarah was looking for.
            “I guess what people don’t know can’t hurt them,” she said with a giggle.
            “Yeah,” Jay nodded, wondering if now was a good time to ask for that sandwich.

            To make things a little more economical Willy had agreed to split a pitcher with Tom, while Karl nursed a glass of water like a total pussy and Vani kept dancing with Cavity, which was kinda bad-ass ‘cause sometimes he’d get to touch her and stuff.
            “Cavity’s cute,” said Willy.
            “Who?” asked Tom.
            “Yeah, she’s ok.”
            “I dunno why she insists on going out with Jojo the freakin’ monkey dog.”
            “Monkey dog?” asked Karl.  Was he smirking more than usual or just the usual amount?  Whatever, Karl was a total loser, all drinking water like a loser and stuff.
            “Whatever, point is it’s a waste of a cute chick.”
            “What do you care?” asked Karl.  “I thought you were into Cerise.”
            “You’re into Cerise?” asked Tom, all like shocked or whatever.
            “Yeah!  I mean like, so are you!”
            “Yeah, she’s awesome!  I mean right?” nodded Tom.
            They looked to Karl for confirmation and he admitted she was pretty cool.
            “Pretty cool?” asked Willy.
            “She’s more than pretty cool,” said Tom.
            “She’s like awesome.”
            “Yeah totally, she’s like…”
            “I suppose she’s fairly attractive,” shrugged Karl.
            “Fairly attractive?” shrieked Willy, maybe a little loudly.
            “She’s beautiful!” said Tom just as loudly.
            “She redefines hot!”
            “She’s like…”
            “She has a good sense of humour,” suggested Karl.
            “A good sense of humour?”
            “She’s like totally hilarious!” said Tom.
            “She gets all our jokes!”
            “She doesn’t think they’re lame!”
            “Even when they are!”
            “She like, gets it.”
            “Yeah, it’s like…”
            “She gets it.”
            “She’s quite intelligent as well,” said Karl.
            “Quite intelligent?!”
            “She’s like a fucking genius!”
            “Yeah, she’s like Sarah level smart, or even like you level smart.”
            “She fucking kicks ass in all her classes without even like studying or whatever.”
            “Yeah, and she’s really smart about it too.”
            “Yeah, she’s like…”
            Karl nodded.  “Plus she’s fun to hang out with.”
            “Fun to hang out with?!”
            “She’s a riot!  She’s like the most funnest person ever!”
            “She’s always into having a good time and shit.”
            “Yeah, she digs you know, fun stuff.  It’s like…”
            “And she’s into sci-fi and everything,” Karl pointed out.
            “Into sci-fi and…”
            “Everything!  She thought my band rocked!  And like…”
            “She creams all over Star Trek.”
            “Yeah, she thought about it a lot.  She had like insight and shit.”
            “She did?”
            “Yeah totally.  It was like…”
            “Plus she’s really cute,” said Karl.
            “She’s fucking hot!”
            “She’s totally hot.”
            “Would you shut the fuck up?” snarled Tom suddenly.
            “You can’t have her!”
            “Shut up!  It could happen.”
            Karl laughed and Willy shot him a look he hoped would shut him up but he just laughed harder.
            “She’s mine,” insisted Tom, like a total delusional retard.
            “Didn’t she like dump your ass?”
            “Yeah!  She’s evil!”
            “Totally.  All chicks are evil,” agreed Willy.
            Both Tom and Willy slumped down onto the table and Karl patted their backs, actually going so far as to say “there, there.”

            “Shauna, when was the last time we had sex?”         
            Oh Christ.  Did they really have to have this conversation now?  Couldn’t they just keep watching Survivor?  But Stan had paused it half way through to ask his stupid question and he likely wasn’t going to give up the remote.
            “I dunno,” she mumbled.
            “Is it ever gonna happen again?” he asked angrily.
            Not if she could help it.  Shauna couldn’t even begin to describe how deeply she didn’t want to have sex with Stan.  She didn’t want to have sex with Rod or Bill either.  She didn’t want anyone touching her.  She just wanted to be alone and to watch Survivor in peace.  She looked at Stan and couldn’t think of a reason to lie.  “No.”
            “Then what the fuck?!  Are you my girlfriend or not?”
            “I guess not.”
            “Then what the fuck are you doing here?”
            “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she said, curling up into the edge of the sofa and trying not to cry.
            “Because you live here!  You’re always here but you never do shit!  What the fuck happened to you?  For like, a month there you were so happy and now you’re all depressed again.  What the fuck is wrong with you?”
            “Are you like, bi-polar or something?  ‘Cause I looked it up on the internet and it kinda sounds like you.”
            “God, just leave me alone!”  Maybe she was bi-polar or maybe she was just sick of sweaty, disgusting guys always being on her all the time.
            “No!  You’re my fucking girlfriend, Shauna and I wanna know what’s wrong with you!”
            “Nothing’s wrong with me!” she screamed, clutching a pillow like a shield.
            “Yes there is something fucking wrong with you.  There’s something fucked up in your fuck-ugly head!”
            She couldn’t take it.  How could she be expected to keep tolerating his grossness?  How dare he accuse her of being fucked up when he was a total creep?  “I hate you!” she hollered, jumping up and throwing the pillow at him.
            “What the fuck?” he said, tossing the pillow aside and standing up, looming over her.
            “I hate you!”  She hit him. 
            He easily deflected her punch and she tried to hit him again.  He pushed her aside and she fell down to the floor.
            “I hate you so much!”
            “Then why the fuck are you living here?”
            “I’m not!”  She scrambled to her feet and ran into the bedroom.  Without thinking, she opened her drawers and pulled everything out, gathering it all into a ball.  Before Stan had even reached the bedroom she was rushing out and going to the kitchen where she dumped everything onto the table. 
            He asked what the fuck she was doing but she ignored him as she got out a garbage bag. 
            “You think you’re leaving?” he asked as she stuffed all her junk into the black bag.  “You can’t leave.”
            “Why the fuck not?”  She tried to walk out but he blocked the kitchen door.
            “Because I love you!”
            She looked him right in the eye.  “I don’t care.”
            “But what about us?” he asked, with a quiver in his voice.
            For a brief moment Shauna thought she might be evil because she took a good deal of pleasure from seeing Stan in pain like this.  He deserved the pain.  He was an asshole and she liked seeing him hurt.  She was a total bitch and she liked it.  “There is no us,” she said with a level voice.  “There never was.  The fact is, you’re no good to me anymore.  You’ve run out of friends.”
            “What the hell does that mean?” he asked angrily, revealing his true self.  The asshole self.
            “There’s no one left for me to fuck,” she said with a smile.
            He made some sort of gurgling sound and she tried to push past him once again but he grabbed her hair and pulled her back.  It hurt like a mother-fucker!
            “Let go of me!” she shrieked.
            “What the fuck did you just say?”
            He still had hold of her hair but she didn’t care anymore.  He could do whatever he wanted.  In fact, she might prefer it if he did.  She might become famous if he killed her.  “I fucked Rod and Bill.  And they were both better than you!”
            “You fucking cunt!”
            He yanked on her hair and she screamed as she resisted, trying to pry away from him.  He kept pulling and she reached back to hold on to the bundle of hair, trying to yank it free.  It was no use so she moved forward inch by inch, holding her hair as Stan pulled backed.  She kicked out and flung out her free hand but it was no use.  Stan actually laughed at her feeble efforts and called her a whore.
            She pulled forward slightly, just enough to reach for the junk drawer.  She pulled it open and reached inside, cutting herself on something but not caring.  She fumbled for what she wanted and pulled out the scissors triumphantly.  She pointed them back at him and he eased his grip slightly as he dodged her jab.  She opened the scissors and flung her arm back, snipping randomly.  She nicked her hand but kept going and sure enough she was cutting her hair. 
            “What the fuck?!” Stan finally let go and gobs of hair fell to the floor. 
            “You want my hair so much, go ahead and keep it.”  Just for effect she grabbed another strand of hair from her head and chopped it off, then flung it at Stan. 
            She threw the scissors to the floor and grabbed her garbage bag of clothes, then raced out of the kitchen as Stan stood there, gobsmacked.  
            She ran to the front door of the stupid, shitty apartment and put on her coat and boots.  Stan came up to her and accused her of stealing his stuff; that everything she was taking was really his.
            “You sound like my father,” she snarked.     
            “Well what do you expect when you act like a kid?  You look really fucking retarded you know, with your hair half short, half long.
            “Stan, go fuck yourself.”  And with that she slung the garbage bag over her shoulder, opened the front door and left.  He called after her, calling her a cunt and a bitch and a ho and slut and whatever else but she didn’t care.  She was free.

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