The Creep

Paul: Hey there, hot stuff. I want to do things to you that cannot be mentioned in a place as nice as this.

Amanda: Well, you’re hot.
Paul: I am well aware of my hotness.
Amanda: Ok. I’m out of here.
Paul: That did not go well. Hey there, young lady, do you want to lick my lollipop?
Elizabeth: No. Neither do I wish to suck your dick.
Paul: Oh. The girls are vulgar tonight. I am going to charm the pants off of this girl though. I think it’s a girl.
Cameron: Did you just refer to me as an “It”.
Paul: No, baby, I did refer to you as having a hot tush though. A hot tush which I wish to blow on a little tonight.
Cameron: Really? Is that even a line?
Paul: It is now, hot a*s! Let’s you and me head up the stairs and take a roll in the old dusty hay.
Cameron: Sadly I’ve done worse. Let’s go.
Paul: I am going to score.
(Upstairs.)
Paul: (To the audience.) Contrary to what you saw earlier I don’t normally get with women. When I say normally, I mean ever. I have never even shaken hands with a girl before. Usually I put my hand out and they get a chainsaw out, and I have to quickly get my hand out of the way, and run for safety. Sometimes they’re faster than me though so I’ve been killed a few times. But, fortunately, I am like a cat I have six lives, oh, I mean nine. Nine, right? So I am a bit worried here. I don’t know how to touch a woman, but I’m still not sure if she or he is a woman. What do you think? We’ll see.
Cameron: Take your shirt off.
Paul: (He does.)
Cameron: Put it back on or I’ll puke. Lay down please and I am going to f**k you every which way.
Paul: Oh yeah. That’s how I like it, duckie.
Cameron: Don’t say duckie or I’ll just f**k you up.
Paul: No problem, my little twix bar.
Cameron: Ok. Don’t talk at all.
Paul: Oh but I want to make you feel all sticky all over, if you know what I mean.
Cameron: I’d rather not know what you mean.
Paul: It is ok, snookums, just lay me on down and I’ll give you a fricking you’ll never forget.
Cameron: I’ll be right back.
Paul: I think it’s a woman. Can you tell? What do I do? I’ll be a natural. I’ll be hot. I’ll be sexy. I’ll be. I am going to suck. I wonder if she has a condom for me to use. I’d rather not get it pregnant. Wait. That’s right. It may not be a woman. This is great, but I don’t think I want to have sex with a man, but since I’ve never had sex I guess I don’t know. Maybe I’m gay.
Cameron: Let’s talk.
Paul: Whatever you want, poppycock.
Cameron: How big is your c**k?
Paul: Oh he’s a real hefty fella.
Cameron: I mean your rooster, of course.
Paul: As did I.
Cameron: How about your beaver?
Paul: Plenty big enough for you to chow on.
Cameron: I want to touch your plant.
Paul: Pat away.
Cameron: I said touch.
Paul: We both know what you mean by touch, girly.
Cameron: Would you be offended if I left here and didn’t return?
Paul: Whatever keeps you thinking of me, lover.
Cameron: See you.
Paul: I have avoided any trace of intimacy again. Not everyone can boast that they are seen as being as undesirable as this to other people, or in some cases, things. I still wonder whether it was a man or a woman, or anything at all.
Maranda: I want to have sex with you.
Paul: And I want to sex you up to Jupiter.
Maranda: I have reconsidered.
Paul: And my incompetence lives on.
(End.)