Free Sexual Perversity in Chicago and the Duck Variations by David Mamet Page B

twenty.
    DANNY : And was she a pro?
    BERNIE : So at this point I don't know. But I do say I'll join her in the shower, if she has no objections.
    DANNY : Of course.
    BERNIE : So into the old shower. And does this broad have a body?
    DANNY : Yeah?
    BERNIE : Are you kidding me?
    DANNY : So tell me.
    BERNIE : The tits . . .
    DANNY : Yeah?
    BERNIE : The legs . . .
    DANNY : The ass?
    BERNIE : Are you fucking fooling me? The ass on this broad . . .
    DANNY : Young ass, huh?
    BERNIE : Well yeah, young broad, young ass.
    DANNY : Right.
    BERNIE : And lathering her . . .
    DANNY : Mmmm.
    BERNIE : And drop the soap . . . This, that, and we get out. Toweling off, each of us in his or her full glory. So while we're toweling off, I flick the towel at her, very playfully, and by accident it catches her a good one on the ass, and thwack, a big red mark.
    DANNY : No.
    BERNIE : So I'm all sorry and so forth. But what does this broad do but let out a squeal of pleasure and relief that would fucking kill a horse.
    DANNY : Huh?
    BERNIE : So what the hell, I'm liberal.
    DANNY : If that's her act, that's her act.
    BERNIE : Goes without saying. So I look around, figuring to follow in my footsteps, and what is handy but this little G.E. clock radio. So I pick the mother up and heave it at her. Catches her across the shoulder blades, and we've got this long welt.
    DANNY : Draw blood?
    BERNIE : At this point, no. So what does she do? She says “wait a minute,” and she crawls under the bed. From under the bed she pulls this suitcase, and from out of the suitcase comes this World War II Flak Suit.
    DANNY : They're hard to find.
    BERNIE : Zip, zip, zip, and she gets into the Flak Suit and we get down on the bed.
    DANNY : What are you doing?
    BERNIE : Fucking.
    DANNY : She's in the Flak Suit?
    BERNIE : Right.
    DANNY : How do you get in?
    BERNIE : How do you think I get in? She leaves the zipper open.
    DANNY : That's what I thought.
    BERNIE : But the shot is, while we're fucking, she wants me, every thirty seconds or so, to go BOOM at the top of my lungs.
    DANNY : At her?
    BERNIE : No, just in general. So we're humping and bumping and greasing the old Flak Suit and every once in a while I go BOOM, and she starts in on me. “Turn me over,” she says, so I do. She's on her stomach. I'm on top. . . .
    DANNY : They got a flap in the back of the Flak Suit?
    BERNIE : Yes. So she's on her stomach, et cetera. In the middle of everything she slithers over to the side of the bed, picks up the house phone and says “Give me Room 511.”
    DANNY : Right.
    BERNIE : “Who are you calling?” I say. “A friend,” she says. So okay. They answer the phone. “Patrice,” she says, “It's me, I'm up here with a friend, and I could use a little help. Could you help me out?”
    DANNY : Ah ha!
    BERNIE : So wait. So I don't know what the shot is. So all of a sudden I hear coming out of the phone: “Rat Tat Tat Tat Tat. Ka POW! AK AK AK AK AK AK AK Ka Pow!" So fine. I'm pumping away, the chick on the other end is making airplane noises, every once in a while I go BOOM, and the broad on the bed starts going crazy. She's moaning and groaning and about to go the whole long route. Humping and bumping, and she's screaming “Red dog One to Reddog Squadron” . . . all of a sudden she screams “Wait.” She wriggles out, leans under the bed, and she pulls out this five-gallon jerrycan.
    DANNY : Right.
    BERNIE : Opens it up . . . it's full of gasoline. So she splashes the mother all over the walls, whips a fuckin’ Zippo out of the Flak suit, and WHOOSH, the whole room is in flames. So the whole fuckin’ joint is going up in smoke, the telephone is going “Rat Tat Tat,” the broad jumps back on the bed and yells “Now, give it to me now for the love of Christ.” (Pause.) So I look at the broad . . . and I figure . . . fuck this nonsense. I grab my clothes, I peel a sawbuck off my wad, as I make the door I fling it at her. “For cab fare,” I yell. She doesn't hear