by Willy Hudson
This all started to get difficult to manage. So I started getting fucking smashed so I didn’t have to worry about it.
Scene 17
Mannequin.
WILLY pretends to be a Dom Top in a club.
The jar of chocolate spread becomes a drink. He aggressively objectifies the mannequin, leering at it, touching it etc.
He pulls down the mannequin’s pants, spits on it, then smears chocolate spread on the bum and legs.
He continues being the Dom Top until he sits down at the mic and snaps to –
Scene 18
Restaurant.
He licks the chocolate off his fingers, as if finishing a burger.
‘Ooh Willy! I’ve just had a quick meeting with Big Boss Belinda – don’t worry you’re not in any trouble! We are both really happy with how you’re getting on at Belinda’s Bangin’ Burgerz, and – now we don’t normally do this – but we’d like to offer you an early promotion to…drum roll please… Table Service Waiter! Yaaas Kween! – (He snaps his fingers like in Rupaul’s Drag Race.) – So here is your bum bag (oooh!), here is your float, and here is your pen and pad. But be careful. Because if you lose any money, or if the card receipts don’t balance, you’re going to have to pay for it yourself. It’s a big responsibility. OK hun, off you go! Byeeeee!’ (Snaps fingers.)
Scene 19
Backstory.
Working the four jobs can be difficult to juggle. I begin to lose sleep worrying about paying rent. My room gets messy and my washing piles up.
But when I moved to London I made friends really quickly. I got in with a ‘cool’ gang that I knew through a friend. We go out every Friday and Saturday. We get drunk and smashed up. I’m the only queer person in the group so all the girls love me and all the boys are intrigued. They’re older than me by a couple of years so it always feels like I’m being looked after.
They threw me a watermelon party for my twenty-fifth birthday with watermelon bunting, watermelon hat, watermelon sunglasses, and a watermelon.
WILLY walks to the bucket of props and pulls out the items he describes. He puts them on, wrapping himself in the bunting.
At this point I think the reference to Beyoncé is getting lost, because if they really knew me they’d know that I like watermelon because I liked Beyoncé and they would throw me a fucking Beyoncé party. Instead I’m just Willy the Watermelon Boy. And I’m still no closer to finding love.
We went out to a club.
Club music starts playing, we hear snippets of Beyoncé singing ‘Love On Top’. WILLY is clutching the watermelon, looking lost.
We were smashed and pretty fucked up. I had lost the gang so was on my own. It was the end of the night and I was desperate to go home with someone, so I could tell everyone the next day on the group WhatsApp. It was also quite far away from where I lived and I didn’t want to go all the way home.
This guy was all in white, like an angel. I was so smashed that I didn’t even know what he looked like until we were in the back of the taxi. We ended up in Balham, which was even further away from where I lived. He took me inside and gave me some orange juice. I offered him some of my drugs but he said he was ‘completely sober’ and he ‘didn’t touch that stuff.’ Which is a bit weird.
We went into his bedroom. He asked me about the watermelons and said, ‘Yeah of course you like Beyoncé, could you be any gay-er.’
WILLY takes off the sunglasses, embarrassed.
We showered together, and he asked me if he could piss on me. I said ‘OK.’ He topped me. Twice. I couldn’t get an erection, so I couldn’t top him even if I wanted to.
He pours water from the douche onto the mannequin.
I get home, de-watermelon and open my laptop:
He takes off the watermelon items and sits on the edge of the mannequin block.
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
WILLY tries to check in.
Self-esteem?
GREAT! Sure.
Love for Beyoncé?
Don’t even look at me Bey.
Quest for Love?
I’m not sure how long I can keep this up. Need to work out if I’m a Top or a Bottom.
Walk of shame quietly across the space to the Date. Before he gets there –
I go on Google.
TOPS:
What’s it like having your dick in someone’s ass? What does it feel like?
… Umm nice and warm and wet, kind of like warm apple pie.
It’s just nice. It’s like ‘thank you’.
…this is great, this is everything I need and more. ‘Thank you.’
Scene 20
Date.
We go into my bedroom.
This is quite forward of me but it feels like a natural progression. I don’t have a living room and the kitchen still smells of overcooked stale fish.
My room is so small the only thing you can do is sit on my bed.
Beat.
I look at my room as if for the first time to try and work out what he might be thinking.
The four walls are covered floor to ceiling in Beyoncé posters and magazine cutouts. And I feel silly. Silly Willy the Pissed-On Watermelon Boy.
I wonder if I should take some of them down.
We lie on my bed.
I’m deliberately not touching him, as if the touch of my hand will magically dissolve our clothes and leave me whimpering with my willy out. I end up kind of awkwardly curving my body around him, leaving about two inches of space between us.
Scene 21
Backstory. The worlds are merging. Backstory music plays, we faintly hear Beyoncé singing ‘Love On Top’ over it. It’s dark and bassy.
The last time I had sex before this was with a Tinder match called Duncan. In his picture he’s got these shades on and his face slightly turned away from the camera. I like his air of mystery.
Duncan comes over. He’s really tall and has a massive spot on his nose that you can’t stop looking at. He doesn’t look much like his picture, but I couldn’t see much of his face in it anyway. We have two bottles of wine and I watch him get slowly drunk.
Then I bring out my MKAT and we snort it off the kitchen table.
An hour later and I’m rubbing his back as he’s being sick in my freshly planted pansies on our little roof terrace. The sick lands on my socks and splashes up my arms – but I don’t mind, we’ve all been drunk. I lend him my toothbrush to clean himself up with, as any honourable gentleman would do.
He stumbles into my bedroom and rips off his clothes. He asks me to turn around so he can fuck me.
I said ‘OK.’
I give him a condom to use, but he moans and says that it’s too tight. And he takes it off halfway through without telling me.
I didn’t see him again.
WILLY gets to the mannequin and pulls off the pants. He goes down to the floor and tears both legs off. He struggles with it, it takes time.
Has he text me, Lucy?
LUCY:
No, sorry Willy.
WILLY:
Silly Willy. (You need to protect yourself.)
WILLY picks up the bum of the mannequin and cradles it. He carries it throughout the next scene.
Can you put some Beyoncé on please?
LUCY plays ‘Love On Top’. It is mixed with the bass line of the Backstory music so it feels slightly distorted. WILLY must speak louder to be heard.
Scene 22
I take on extra hours at the restaurant as people are off sick –
TOPS:
What is it like having your dick in someone’s ass?
WILLY ignores it.
WILLY:
I start cutting out lunch because I don’t have time to eat properly between jobs – but it’s OK because I can eat leftovers at work. Someone says I look ‘quite thin’…which I take as a compliment.
My manager sits me down at the end of a busy shift. We only ha
d two waiters when there is normally four. We ran out of burgers halfway through and I had to go to Tesco’s to get some backup.
I squeeze into her office, I’m basically sat on her lap.
WILLY leans into the Restaurant world, speaking into the microphone.
‘Ooh Willy I’ve just counted up your card receipts and your money doesn’t balance. You’re £90 short.’
She throws a card receipt at me.
It says ‘£90. DECLINED’
Which means a card payment had declined but I cashed it off as if I’d accepted it.
‘You need to give me £90 hun. That comes out of your pocket babe. You are £90 short.’
£90?
WILLY frantically starts to collect the rest of the mannequin, protecting himself, trying and failing to put it back together.
£90 is about a day’s work. Or a month’s food shop.
We had two waiters instead of four and it’s my fault I make a mistake? But it’s a casual job, and if I don’t pay this then I won’t have a job.
WILLY climbs onto the mannequin block, clutching all the mannequin parts. The chocolate spread has begun to rub off onto his clothes.
I want to tell her that it’s bullshit and spit in her plasticky face.
I get tense. Hot and fire like I’m this massive fireball of sweat and flames that will burn this cunt to a crisp.
‘Love On Top’ is interrupted by –
TOPS:
WHAT IS IT LIKE HAVING YOUR D–
WILLY:
Lucy where’s Beyoncé gone?
‘Love On Top’ comes back as the song hits the first key change. WILLY steps down from the box and quickly but carefully puts the legs on the floor. He is still holding the bum. He goes to face the manager.
No – listen – listen – I have moved to this city to find –
The music is too loud. She can’t hear him. He grabs the microphone.
Listen. I have moved to this city to find friends and to find love. But I spend all my time here, with you, or at my other jobs, so between that I’m just swiping on this fucking APP trying to find someone to have this love with – (He turns to LUCY doing the first anxious dance move.) – Lucy has he text me? (WILLY turns back to the manager, continuing the anxious dance routine throughout this speech. It grows and gets chaotic.) And I am tired – I go out all weekend and I spend all my money getting fucked on drugs and dick, trying to FEEL something with people – that I know when I’m sober, I won’t FEEL anything for. So by Sunday, I’m still tired, I’m on comedown but now I’m BROKE. (He gets stuck in one move, spinning on the spot.) So by Sunday, I’m still tired, I’m on comedown but now I’m BROKE. So by Sunday, I’m still tired, I’m on comedown but now I’m BROKE. (WILLY dashes to the mannequin legs.) Self-esteem – love for Beyoncé – quest for love. (He launches back to the manager, desperately pushing the dance.) So I take on extra shifts, spending even more time with you, here at Belinda’s Fucking Burgerz trying to pay my rent, buy my food shop and just fucking EXIST in this shit storm of living a hundred miles an hour. (The song has ended. He stops dancing.) So fuck you. Fuck your £90. AND FUCK YOUR BURGERS.
Pause.
But I say ‘OK’.
I go to the cash machine and I punch in my numbers.
I smile as I give her the cash. Because I’m a fucking twat.
I get home and open my laptop:
As he speaks, WILLY slowly collects the rest of the mannequin. He carries it with him to the Date.
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
Google Chrome
Gaytube
Blowjobs
Anal
Bareback
WILLY sits in the Date.
Kiss me please, I just want to be something.
Lucy do I have a text?
The Date music is back but it is not complete. It is missing beats, struggling to continue.
We talk about TV, films and music. He looks at my Beyoncé limited edition DVD and CD collection and I’m gonna top the fuck out of you. He says he’s a ‘big fan’ of Bey and his favourite song is ‘Schoolin’ Life’ – and I’m like how does this work? Where do I put my body? How do I move it? What if I’m shit? What if I’m so completely shit that he pulls off, walks off, and blocks me on Tinder? – ‘Schoolin’ Life’? – I can see Beyoncé staring down on my giving me her Sasha Fierce eye, she’s got this look which says, ‘Yeah go on mate’ – ‘Schoolin’ Life’ –
Beat.
Nobody says ‘Schoolin’ Life’.
That’s my favourite song.
WILLY gently puts all the mannequin parts down.
Without breaking his gaze I take a deep breath and put my hand on his leg.
He puts his hand on top of mine.
I breathe in and I breathe out – and I wonder if I should get my inhaler.
I’m close enough to smell his sweat and it’s mixed with the overcooked fish that has wafted in from the kitchen.
He looks amazing…but I don’t tell him this.
I take one last look at Beyoncé. She nods.
We both lean in, until our mouths touch.
I close my eyes,
and I really hope this is OK.
Beat.
A faint chime from the Mannequin music is heard. It is delicate and bare.
WILLY collects the mannequin.
I apologise.
‘I’m sorry.’
I say ‘it’s never happened before.’
‘It’s never happened before.’
He walks across the stage as he speaks. He is covered in chocolate spread, carrying the mannequin, carrying himself.
I excuse myself, and I go through the kitchen into the bathroom.
I’m naked on this journey – which is risky, I know.
I lock the door.
He places the mannequin on the floor.
I turn on the tap – so it sounds like I’m having a wee – and I look in the mirror at my floppy, flaccid, shrivelled…asleep…willy.
I think about every time I’ve had sex.
I think about drugs.
I think about relationships.
I think about porn
I think about erections
I think about my jobs
I think about how all I want is to speak to someone properly, about what I’m really thinking.
How I want the spark in my chest to burst into tiny stars that shoot out of my eyes and into his heart so that he knows I am worth something and I’m not just a Bottom.
I’m not just a Bottom.
WILLY puts his mannequin back together on the block. He is careful. Looking after himself.
The mannequin is complete. The music stops.
I’m not just a Bottom.
You’re not just a Bottom.
Pause.
I open the door and head back to my bedroom.
WILLY steps towards the Date.
He’s still here, looking at my Beyoncé magazine collection – which isn’t really for touching.
And I say:
‘OK.
I think I have a problem with getting an erection.
And this is the first time I’ve tried to have sex when I haven’t been smashed so it’s quite new.
And it’s the first time I’ve tried to top somebody. So please bear with me.’
Beat.
But he says ‘It’s OK.’
He doesn’t actually min
d if he tops or he bottoms.
And that if it’s OK with me he would still like to stay and just watch TV.
Beat
Which is nice.
So I open my laptop.
WILLY crosses to sit in the Date.
Google Chrome
Netflix
Orange is the New Black
I’ve already seen this episode, but I don’t mind watching it twice.
After about ten minutes I put my arm around him (WILLY puts his arm around the space next to him, around the guy) and he puts his head on my shoulder – and for a moment I feel like he’s trying to have sex again…!
But I look down to see that his eyes are closed.
But he’s not dead. He’s asleep. The muscles on his face have all relaxed, like they do when you’re asleep, so he looks a bit creased. But he still looks really good.
Orange is the New Black finishes and Netflix does that thing where it automatically plays the next episode. I want to sleep myself, so I reach out to shut the lid of my laptop, but I can’t reach it without disturbing him.
