Setting: Middle school lunchroom. Can be just one lunch table, the long, segmented kind, or whatever works. Lights up on Ferguson, a small, quiet boy who is sitting with his head down over his lunch, reading a book, eating healthy food slowly. His back is to the audience. He is in 7th grade. A group of rowdy 8th grade boys, Rick, Ferrin, Paul and Austin, enter. They see Ferguson, and immediately decide to prey on him for their lunch time entertainment. They sit down, one on each side and two across the table. They start taking out their lunches, mainly chips and soda.
Paul: (offering for trade) Coke?
Rick: I'll trade you. Orange Crush.
Austin: No, I want the Coke! I got two juice boxes.
Ferrin: Juice boxes are for fags!
Austin: Fuck you, Ferrin!
Paul: Let's ask him. He'd know. (They get right down to the point of sitting next to Ferguson: to torment him)
Ferrin: Right, Ferguson? Juice boxes are for fags, right?
Austin: (pause) He didn't answer!
Ferrin: 'Cause he's a fag! (high-fives all-around, then even to Ferguson) High-five faggot! (nothing, Ferguson has reacted only by bending over more and reading his book in his lap) What? High-five faggot! (pause)
Rick: You faggot, Ferrin, don't you see that he can't give you a high-five because then he'd have to stop touching his dick! (laughter is pretty much non-stop from here on out)
Austin: He's always touching his dick! What a faggot!
Paul: Yeah, total fuckin' homo, man!
Ferrin: Why can't you take your hands off your dick, fag?
Rick: Maybe he can only find it every once in a while; so when he finds it, he likes to keep track of it!
Paul: Did you just find your dick, Ferguson?
Rick: Ha! Guys, guys! Fer-gay-son! Get it! Get it!
Ferrin: Must mean his dad's gay too, right!
Austin: I heard he's even got a gay dog!
Ferrin: Where'd you get such a gay name, Fergayson? Same place you got your fag dog?
Rick: Hey, yeah! Your name even starts with f-e-r, like ferry... ferry-gay-son!! (not caring that this is not the “fairy” word they seek)
Austin: Yeah, a double fag!
Paul: With a faggot dog!
Ferrin: I think his dog is named: Fuck-In-The-Ass Dog!
Rick: Good one! Totally! (Ferguson reaches into his lunch bag and takes out a baby carrot and eats it)
Paul: Look! He even eats little orange penises! (Of course, Paul himself is eating cheese puffs)
Austin: It's good practice for when he has to eat other gay guys' dicks!
Paul: Yeah! I bet gay guys have orange dicks!
Austin: I bet, 'cause it's such a gay color! It's all faggoty orange and shit!
Ferrin: Man, total faggot! Orange!
Paul: Orange is the faggotist color out there.
Austin: And pink!
Paul: Well, of course, pink, but everyone knows that!
Ferrin: Yeah, pink is for totally gay fags.
Rick: No kidding! If you wear pink; it’s like you’re a gay gay fag.
Austin: And purple!
Ferrin: Hey, purple is one of our school colors!
Austin: That’s cuz our school is half faggots!
Paul: Yeah! I think it’s so gay that we have a bulldog for a mascot and then he has to wear gold and purple!
Austin: I bet they had to find a dog that’s half-fag!
Rick: Guys! I got a great joke!
Paul: About fags?
Austin: I hope so!
Rick: Yeah, it's about fags!
Rick: O.K. O.K. What do you call a fag with a gay dog?
Rick: I don't know. I never call fags with gay dogs!
Paul: Ohh man! That's funny!
Austin: Yeah, awesome! (back to Ferguson again) Hey, fag, why won't you take your hands off your dick?
Paul: He is holding a book, guys!
Rick: What's it called? How To Fuck Your Gay Dog?
Ferrin: In The Ass!
Paul: (grabbing the book) Yep! You guys were right!
Ferrin: I bet he wrote it!
Austin: You ever notice how faggots are always reading books?
Ferrin: Or writing them!
Rick: Like books about fucking your gay dog!
Paul: Yeah! Your homo dog!
Ferrin: In the ass!
Paul: (sliding the book down the table) Know what his dog's name is, guys?
Rick: Yeah, it's Queer Queer!
Paul: Nuh-uh! It's Queer Queer Queer!
Ferrin: You're both wrong! It's Faggot Princess Queer!
Austin: Faggot Princess Queer!
Rick: Is that right, Ferry-gay-son? That's a good name for your fag dog!
Ferrin: Why do you keep your hands below the table? Your faggot book's gone. Still playing with your dick?
Paul: Totally twirling his meat!
Rick: Moron, faggots don't have any meat to twirl!
Austin: My dad told me only faggots beat off.
Rick: Duh! Everyone knows that, shithead!
Ferrin: But they need a magnifying glass to find their dicks!
Paul: Like Fergayson here!
Ferrin: Guys! Check it out! It's Samantha!
(All guys stare off in direction of the cute girl for a few seconds. Ferguson pulls out a plastic "tube" of vanilla yogurt, tears the top off, puts it between his legs. Audience really shouldn't be able to see exactly what he's doing.)
Austin: She is so hot! (makes a jerking off motion for emphasis)
Rick: (makes same motion) No kidding! Oh man!
Paul: (same motion, more emphatically) Man, she can jack me off any day!
Ferrin: (predictably, same motion) Ouch, she's so hot, it burns!
Austin: Fucking hot, like the sun.
Paul: But hotter.
Ferrin: Ha! “Butt” hotter! Get it?
(Attention returns to table, Ferguson also begins to make same motion in his lap, but does not stop)
Paul: (notices it first) Holy shit, guys! Uhhh... look at Faggy!
Rick: (thinking Ferguson is just making the motion as they did) You're gay, remember... Samantha wouldn't... (Ferguson isn't stopping) Umm, what the fuck are you doing, fag!? (Ferguson gets faster and faster with his masturbation.)
Ferrin: Guys.... he's (whispering) beating off!
Paul: What the fuck, fag?!
Austin: Stop it, faggot!
(Ferguson's really going to town now, moaning, softly at first, then louder)
Paul: (looking around nervously, in stage whispers) Shit, guys! Let's get out of here!
Rick: (also stage whispers) No shit... Samantha's looking!
Ferrin: (stage whispers, Ferguson is very loud and obvious) Everyone's looking! (He reaches to stop Ferguson's hand, which makes it only appear that he's helping him) Stop it!
(The boys try to get away, but not before Ferguson jumps up like a rocket, makes a loud orgasmic shout and, reaching between his legs with both hands, squeezes the yogurt tube from the bottom with great force. With good luck or good skill, vanilla yogurt will hit all four of his tormentors. With even greater luck, it will hit them in the face. But, it only really matters that it hit one of the closest boys in the face. Ferguson walks off, picking up his book as he goes, going right back to reading it as he walks. Lights fade on the four boys who are blushing and silent. They are staring out to audience. One of the boys with yogurt on his face should lick some off, either directly with his tongue, or by scooping it off with his fingers first, as the lights go out.)