Kyle And The Space Prostitues (8.22.12)

#22: KYLE AND THE SPACE PROSTITUTES

A science fiction play inspired by real people and events

Written

by

Sean Pollock

(Lights up on KYLE and LADONNA at the Commons Market working late at night)

LADONNA: —So I said to him, “You got some Justin Bieber hair, you betta cut that shit.”

KYLE: Ladonna, that was me.

LADONNA: Was it you? (beat) Oh yeah. You do have Justin Bieber hair.

KYLE: No I don’t.

LADONNA: Whateva.

(A silence)

LADONNA: Are we low on anything in the sto?

KYLE: I don’t think so.

LADONNA: What about those extra jumbo tampons?

KYLE: Yeah…I think we have those.

LADONNA: We betta. I gotta snatch some, speakin of.

KYLE: Good to know.

LADONNA: You know, my muff is huge.

KYLE: That’s…great Ladonna.

LADONNA: I mean it. I can fit like six or seven dicks in thur if I wanted to.

KYLE: Ok thanks! Didn’t need to know that!

LADONNA: Man, whateva. I been workin here years befo you have, I can say whatevuh da fuq I wan. I give up on the human race.

(Enter two COLLEGE GIRLS)

KYLE: Hello.

COLLEGE 1: Hi, um we want some Marlboro 27’s—

COLLEGE 2: —Camel Lights.

COLLEGE 1: Did we agree on Camel Lights?

COLLEGE GIRL 2: Yeah.

COLLEGE 1: Ok, yeah, a pack of Camel Lights please.

LADONNA: ID please?

(College Girl 1 shows her license)

LADONNA: Ok. That’ll be eleven bucks n twenty-seven cents.

(College Girl 1 gives her her credit card)

LADONNA: Ok, on credit.

(She swipes it)

LADONNA: Here’s yo receipt, m’am. Sign dat shit.

(College Girl 1 does)

LADONNA: Have a nice night.

COLLEGE GIRL 1: Thanks, you too.

LADONNA: Mhm.

(The college girls exit. A silence)

LADONNA: Man, I hate people like dat.

KYLE: Why?

LADONNA: I dunno…dumb college kids. Bickerin over they cigarettes like they know shit.

KYLE: What does that even mean?

LADONNA: I dunno man. Whateva. I hate people. Somethin’s wrong with people deez days. Dhey waq.

KYLE: Ok, Ladonna, whatever you say. I’m going on break.

(Kyle exits. Ladonna puts on her headphones. After a few beats of listening, Ladonna bursts out singing “Do You Believe In Life After Love?” by Cher very flat and off-key)

LADONNA: (singing)

 Do you belieeeeevveeee in life after looooo0o0o0vvvveeeeee??!?!

I can feeeeeeel something inside me say

IIIII really don't think you're strong enoughhh,

Now do you belieeeeevveeee in life after looooo0o0o0vvvveeeeee??!?!

(She continues singing. Then College Girl 1 re-enters and walks to the back of the store. Ladonna takes out her headphones)

LADONNA: Man, what dah fuq she doin back hur?

(College Girl 1 comes back with a case of beer)

COLLEGE GIRL 1: I’m sorry, I forgot this.

LADONNA: Where’s your fran?

COLLEGE GIRL 1: She had to go to work.

LADONNA: So soon?

COLLEGE GIRL 1: Yeah, I’m buying this for myself.

(She gives Ladonna her card again)

LADONNA: If I find out yo buyin dis for someone whose undaage, Imma knock you off yo ass.

(Ladonna swipes her card)

COLLEGE GIRL 1: I promise I’m buying it for myself.

(A beat. Ladonna examines her)

LADONNA: Wait a second, are you wearin’ shoes?

COLLEGE GIRL 1: No.

LADONNA: Did you see the sign out front? No shirt, no shoes, no service.

COLLEGE GIRL 1: I’m sorry.

LADONNA: Git out of my sto. Take yo beer n leave. I don’t wanna see yo face hur again.

(College Girl #1 exits, Kyle enters)

LADONNA: Yeah, that’s right—keep walkin, bitch!

KYLE: Ladonna, what was that?

LADONNA: Some bitch walked in hurr with no shoes on tryna buy beer for her frien outside, I tol her to get the fuq out.

KYLE: You gotta stop calling people bitches, Ladonna. You know they record this stuff.

LADONNA: Whatur. They aint gone farr me. I just show dem the tapes n show them all the stupit ass people who come through hurr and they’ll forgive me. Like I said, I give up on mankind. Urryone’s so whack.

KYLE: Are you sure it isn’t…you know, you?

LADONNA: Say what?

KYLE: I mean are you sure that maybe…you are the problem, not everyone else? I know it’s probably impossible for you to imagine, in that small microscopic, sad, pathetic, self-righteous brain of yours, that you could be wrong, but has it ever crossed your mind that after hating basically everyone who walks through this door that maybe there’s something wrong with how you think?

LADONNA: I don’t have to listen to yo shit.

KYLE: You might not have to listen to my shit, you’re right, but could you just consider that maybe you’re just really miserable and complain only to drag others down to your same low level of misery and despair? It’s torturous.

LADONNA: Somethin’s wron witchu too. I know it.

(Enter FLOZZIE and LANTRON—two space prostitutes. They were sequin dresses on and look hip yet intergalactic. Flozzie wears a hijab and Lantron wears a scarf over her mouth, as well as sunglasses as a pathetic attempt to hide their space prostitute-ness)

KYLE: Hi, how can I help you?

LANTRON: Hello, earthling.

(Flozzie nudges Lantron)

LANTRON: I mean…Hello, sir.

FLOZZIE: Yes, Greetings.

LANTRON: Salutations.

(Kyle and Ladonna look at each other. Flozzie and Lantron explore the store)

LADONNA: Dem bitches trippin.

KYLE: Don’t be rude.

LADONNA: I hate chu.

KYLE: Feeling’s mutual.

(Flozzie and Lantron return with Chex Mix and a bottle of vodka)

LADONNA: Chex Mix and Vodka, hm? Sounds like you girls are gone have a fun night.

LANTRON: Affirmative.

LADONNA: What?

LANTRON: Yes.

LADONNA: Can I see some ID please?

(Flozzie and Lantron exchange glances)

FLOZZIE, LANTRON: ID?

LADONNA: Some…identification? To prove you’re of age to purchase this alcohol?

LANTRON: We don’t have this “ID”  you speak of, earthling.

(Flozzie nudges her)

LANTRON: I mean m’am.

LADONNA: You girls from round here?

FLOZZIE: No. We are foreign travelers.

LADONNA: I can tell by the way you say urrythin all weird n shit. But lemme give you the low-down. In the United States of ‘Murica—that’s where you is—in order to purchase (she holds up the vodka) this beverage you need proof that you is twenty-one. Do you ladies have yo passports or anythin?

FLOZZIE: Very well. We will offer our bodies in exchange.

LADONNA: Say wha?

FLOZZIE: For the vodka. We will offer our bodies for you to do as you please, human.

LADONNA: Hell no, girl! I ain’t gone sleep witchu in order for you to have dis alc’hawl! Naw-uh. The sign outside the do reads “No Solicitors”. Can you read? Do you even know what a “Solictor” is?

(Lantron pulls out her transit beam)

LANTRON: That’s it, earthling. I am done with your insipid and trite behaviors. Prepare to die.

LADONNA: What duh fuq?

(Lantron shoots Ladonna with her transit beam. She dies)

KYLE: What the—

FLOZZIE: Silence foolish earth dweller. We will spare your life on one condition.

LANTRON: You must have sex with us and then pay us.

KYLE: Wait…what?

FLOZZIE: You heard us. Make sweet, sweet love to our foreign alien bodies, give us money, and we will let you be.

KYLE: Wait…are you guys like…prostitutes from outer space or something?

LANTRON: Correct. That is precisely what we are.

KYLE: You’re…space prostitutes? From what planet?

FLOZZIE: Irrelevant. Let us commence the love making. Remove your clothes, earthling.

(He does, hesitantly)

LANTRON: Now get ready for sex that’s out of this world.

(They take off their clothes and reveal that they are actually hideous monsters with green and blue skin and tentacles. Kyle screams as the lights fade a glowing green…)