Abigail (quite drunk)
Tasha (very drunk)
Setting: Table, three folding chairs, women are drinking out of styrofoam cups, spiking the drinks with pours from large flasks. They are dressed to fuck, perfect for a Friday night on the town, but all three women have probably slipped down the wrong side of time. They're not much to look at, is what I'm saying. They are loud and over the top.
Shelby: This place's nothing!
Abigail: No men!
S: You're the one who said this joint would be hopping, Tasha!
A: Yeah! That's right!
T: (pointing at an unseen man) Herttssgahhh!
S: You're so wrong, Tasha!
A: He's so ugly!
S: There's one!
A: Ugly hair?
S: I like his hair, Abby.
A: 'S horrible!
S: No, you're wrong again.
A: You're drunk, Tasha!
S: Listen, let's get going, I'm sick of these places, sick of shooting at nothing. We're not getting any younger, and we're definitely not getting laid!!
A: We're married!
S: Yeah, yeah, I know, but it's just not happening here!
A: Where should we go?!
A: It's probably closed by now!
S: Open 'til 12?
A: To the Episcopal's potluck brunch we go!
T: Frrggggtttaaa!!! (passes out)
S: These Catholics just don't know how to show a lady a good time!
A: Fuck'em all!
S: Wish they'd let me... C'mon, Tasha! (she's not responding)
(They pull Tasha off-stage by her arms as lights fade out)