Pigmy

 (This is an old thing I wrote as an exercise in a "break up" scene. Putting it here because why not.)

SETTING:                                          An apartment. Furnished for two men in their 20s,

with a nice television, video game system. Old furniture. Band posters on the wall. A coffee table with a crack down the middle. The living room and kitchen are connected. One opening leads to their bedrooms. A door leads to the outside hallway.

FADE IN:                                           Evening. Paul comes home from work wearing a

pizza delivery outfit. Stan is lying face down on the floor. Paul sees him and quietly heads to the kitchen and starts rooting around for something. After checking a few places, he slams the last cupboard shut.

Paul

Son of a bitch.

                                                            Stan

(Head rises from the floor. Crumbles of Rice Chex stick to his face as he looks around the room)

 What?

                                                            Paul

Where’s my cupcake?

                                                            Stan

Your what?

                                                            Paul

My cupcake, a-hole, where’s my cupcake?  I left it right here on the counter.

                                                            Stan

I’m sorry, man, I ate that cupcake. For real.

                                                            Paul

Man, why you keep eating my shit?  That cupcake was obviously not yours.

                                                            Stan

Well if I knew you’d be such a pansy, I wouldn’t have eaten it.

                                                            Paul

How would you like it if I ate all your cupcakes?

                                                            Stan

Jesus. I didn’t see your name on that cupcake. Why is it that important? It’s just a cupcake.

                                                            Paul

It was a cupcake given to me by Ginny for my birthday. We were going to eat it after dinner tonight. What, do I got to label my cupcakes?  We live in a society where a man should not have to label his own food.  Let me ask you, how many people live here?

                                                            Stan

Two.

                                                            Paul

Yes, me and you.  Did you buy that cupcake? Did you make it? 

                                                            Stan

No, I didn’t buy that cupcake.

                                                            Paul

So, if you didn’t buy it, it obviously wasn’t yours, right?

                                                            Stan

Yes, it obviously wasn’t mine.

                                                            Paul

                                    (Pulls out some spaghetti from the fridge)

So, is this spaghetti yours? I don’t see a name on it.

                                                            Stan

No, that’s not mine.

                                                            Paul

                                    (Throwing spaghetti at STAN)

Well, why don’t you have some anyway? 

                                                            Stan

Man, cut it out!

(A marmoset, which can be a puppet or person in a poorly designed costume, comes out from behind the couch and begins eating the spaghetti while sitting atop STAN’s head.)

                        Paul

What the hell is that?

                                                            Stan

Shit. Paul, meet Frank, my pigmy marmoset.

                                                            Paul

Your what?

                                                            Stan

My pigmy marmoset. I picket it up from a friend at the zoo. On the down low, so …

(puts finger to lips)

shhh.

                                                            Paul

Why do you have a monkey?

                                                            Stan

A marmoset, man, don’t hurt Frank’s feelings.

                                                            Paul

For Christ sake.

                                                            Stan

Look, these little guys are great at grooming. I figure why shower if you have a marmoset to take care of your hair?

                                                            Paul

Wait a minute. Is this what ate my cupcake?  Is this why I found bits of poop on the walls in the bathroom?

                                                            Stan

Sort of. Frank did eat your cupcake, not me, but the poop wasn’t his. Frank doesn’t throw poop.

                                                            Paul

It was yours then?

                                                            Stan

No, don’t be ridiculous. That was Sophie’s poop.

                                                            Paul

Sophie?

                                                            Stan

Yeah, my emperor tamarin. I’m teaching her to clean my room. I got a maid outfit for her and everything. You should see it.

                                                            Paul

Another monkey?

                                                           

                                                            Stan

Another sort of monkey. She has the cutest mustache, like a reverse handlebar.

                                                            Paul

How long have you had these animals?

                                                            Stan

Oh, a few months now. I’m surprised you hadn’t noticed. Sophie likes to cuddle up in your bed when you’re not home.

                                                            Paul

Jesus.

                                                            Stan

Yeah, plus she’s a wiz at making beds.

                                                            Paul

Stan, we’ve got to talk.

                                                            Stan

Okay.

                                                            Paul

Alone.

                                                            Stan

Anything you got to say to me you can say in front of Frank.

                                                            Paul

Fine. Stan, I’m leaving. Now.

                                                            Stan

You’re leaving?  Why?

                                                            Paul

You wouldn’t understand.

                                                            Stan

Is it because of the cupcake?  I can get you another cupcake. Trust me, I got connections in cupcakes.

                                                            Paul

No. It’s the monkey thing. I can’t live with primates.                                                           

                                                            Stan

You don’t mean that. You can’t be so prejudiced. Don’t listen to him Frank!

                                                            Paul

I’ll be back later for my things.

                                    (PAUL opens door to leave)

                                                            Stan

You’ll be back. Trust me, Sophie can cover your half of the rent, no problem. She’ll work the streets, she’ll clean other houses. We can live without you.

                                    (Door slams shut)

Frank, I guess it’s just you me and Sophie now. I call dibs on Paul’s bed.