Chapter Nine Sock It To Me
SETTING: Mary’s house. Everything is red.
(Knocking sound. Knocking sound)
Othello: Hello? Anybody home?
(Knocking sound)
(Silence)
(Sound of a door creaking open. Othello enters the stage)
Othello: Mary?
Mary: There is no Mary, only Zool. Hahaha. Just kidding. Come in, please please, come in. Can I get you something to drink?
Othello: Yeah, sure. Whatever’s fine.
(Mary leaves and comes back with a juice box with a straw in it)
Othello: Thank you kindly.
Mary: Relax, get a load off, I mean, take a load off.
Othello: Can I be really honest with you? There’s something I really want to do right now, I feel compelled.
Mary: Anything.
Othello: I have to be up front with you. Speaking the truth to you is more important to me than getting in your pants. Honestly, do you ever have a feeling come over you, and tickle your skin, raising your hairs, so that you become more sensitive to every little sensation? Can you feel it? It happens as soon as you enter that new person’s home for the first time.
You try to act like you’re not thinking about it.
You tell yourself, be calm, play it cool.
But what you want to do is pulsing in the back of your mind, and the front of your mind,
The more you try to fight it, it starts to take on a mind of its own, talking to you in your own voice, saying, “let go of your inhibition, this is your chance, give in to the feelings”. You feel the desire coursing through your veins and with each breath it grows stronger.
There’s no way to possibly ignore it now, you want nothing more than… to throw yourself in front of their library, release your inner nerd, and go through all their books!
Mary: You’re so sexy.
Othello: Thank you. My library is my favorite part of my home and I always seek them out when I enter a new place for the first time. I see yours over here is very interesting.
Mary: So that’s what you want, huh? You want to spread my pages open?
Othello: I want to pull your pages apart until your spine creases. Seriously.
Mary: That is good because you will get to see what a twisted soul I am.
Othello: You act like it’s some kind of secret. I actually like that about you.
Mary: Well, then Mr. Man, let me explain to you what stimulates my literary mind. Obviously I like tragedy more than comedy, where unimaginable and terrible things happen to good people, and bad people I guess, but mostly good people. But, for me, it HAS to be true. I hate fiction. Why would I want to read fiction? There are enough true tales of torment and disaster from real life. Why would I need to go out and read something that never actually happened? Fiction seems like a waste of time to me, I don’t know. Is that weird?
Othello: That is fascinating actually. You are fascinating. I would assert that I agree with Shakespeare when he said, “much truth is said in jest.” Oftentimes, the real facts would be too boring or out of context, until a talented author comes along and threads a vein of humor through them so that even fools can follow along.
Mary: So what you’re saying is: A tablespoon of sugar helps the medicine go down?
Othello: MMmmmmm. You’re fucking sexy all of a sudden.
(Othello draws very close to Mary)
Mary: Othello, can I be really real with you? I just want to be really real with you.
(Mary starts rubbing the top of her head around Othello’s chin)
Othello: Yes, pretty girl, please do.
Mary: (now talking lowly but not quite whispering, looking right at Othello) My very favorite books, the ones that really draw me in, the ones I enjoy like nothing else, are tales of lost innocence. That’s my thing, stories about lost innocence. There’s just something about a fall from grace that—
(Othello starts kissing Mary on the lips. They kiss slowly and Mary keeps jockeying for position.)
(Kissing sounds)
(Mary starts to kiss underneath Othello’s mouth. She gives him kisses all around the bottom of his sock, from left to right, right to left slowly making a zig-zag higher and higher up on his sock. She then goes up to his thumb and wrestles slightly with this sock and Othello’s bare thumb comes poking out through a hole in the sock. Mary, from her lower position, sits looking at Othello’s thumb, moving her thumb underneath her other fingers as if she’s licking her lips.)
Othello: Hold on baby.
(Othello exits the stage for a moment and comes back with his thumb still poking through the hole in his sock but now he is wearing a latex glove that has all the fingers cut off around the palm so that the only finger sleeve that remains in the thumb, like a condom.)
Othello: Oh my god baby.
(The sound of fireworks going off)
Othello: (breathing heavy) Yes. Wow. Shew!
Mary: Was that as good for you as it was for me?
Othello: Hahaha I’d say so. Oh my Godddd.
Mary: Why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll make you some cookies?
(Othello leaves and comes back minus the glove and with his thumb back inside his sock)
Othello: So what kind of cookies are we talking about here?
Mary: Oh so now you want my cookies?? I guess that was your plan all along, eh? Get my fucking cookies? I should have known.
Othello: What?
Mary: You manipulative stalker bastard. You thirteenth stepped me!
Othello: Mary, sweetie, you have twice as much time as me.
Mary: Yeah but you took advantage of my clean time!
Othello: I’m confused. Is this some type of joke, not one of those funny ones, but some other, non-funny type of joke?
(Mary starts to shake and twitch violently)
Othello: Are you Ok?
(A low grumbling sound like the growling of a satanic dog starts to come from Mary)
Othello: Oh my gosh.
(Mary starts to yell in a demon voice and her sock suddenly comes completely off. Underneath another sock face is revealed. This sock has sharp teeth and red bloodshot eyes and many snake-like braids coming off of her head.)
Demon Mary: (In a demon voice) You fool! You really think that dope fiend shit would work on me!
Othello: You practically begged me.
Demon Mary: (In a demon voice) Addicts never fucking stay clean anyway! ONCE AN ADDICT ALWAYS AN ADDICT.
Othello: So, yeah…I’m just gonna go now…
Demon Mary: (Growls loudly in a demonic voice)
(Demon Mary jumps on Othello mauling him. She steps back for a second. Blood has splattered from Othello onto Mary’s bookshelf at this point)
Othello: Mary, no.
(Demon Mary bites Othello on the neck and squeezes tight. He struggles, sounding like he’s choking. Mary stays with her grip tight. Othello lets out a few last chirps of sound gasping for air and then goes limp.)
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