Setting: A park, a bench in the park, a bench in the park with a lamppost near it, a park with a bench near a lamppost and a garbage can. Lisa is playing with her adorable puppy - one of those tiny-widdle, cute-widdle balls of fur, and it's just the cutest-widdle fing, yes, it is. Yes, it is.
(Enter Galt, sits on the opposite side of the bench. He's pretending to read a newspaper; he's not very good at pretending though and stares more and more at Lisa and Lisa's dog.)
Galt: Aren't you the cutest little doggie?
Lisa: Oh... yes, he is. Thank you.
G: I was talking to the puppy.
L: Uhhh... right... I was just...
G: Well, I mean, you thanked me.
L: Because... I thought you complimented my dog.
G: I did... it's a very cute puppy.
L: Yeah, but then...
G: Well, I meant I was telling the dog that it was cute.
G: That's all.
L: Okay... then, uhhh.... what was the bit about talking to my dog?
G: I was just telling the dog that it was cute, and you said "thank you."
L: Well, it was a nice compliment.
G: That's my point, I wasn't complimenting you.
L: Right, my dog, you were complimenting my dog.
G: So you didn't need to thank me.
L: Well, I'm Scoot's owner; so I take comments about him somewhat personally.
G: You shouldn't.
G: No, you didn't make him cute right? It is a male dog, right?
L: Yes, a boy.
G: A male; boys are humans.
L: Yes, I know.
G: So you didn't make him cute, right?
L: No, of course not...
G: I mean, you take care of him?
G: Baths and stuff, brush his fur?
L: Of course.
G: But, even if you didn't do that, he'd still be a cute dog, right?
G: Yeah, he would; wouldn't ya, Scoot?
L: I'm sure he would; he's a puppy. They're almost all cute.
G: My point exactly: Scoot's adorability has very little to do with you.
L: Right, yes, I'm not disagreeing with you, I guess.
G: So, you don't need to thank me for complimenting the dog.
L: I guess it feels like I should say something. Scoot can't; so I...
G: You want to step in and fill the gap.
L: Just being conversational.
G: You assumed then that I was talking to you?
L: Well, yes...
G: Through the dog?
L: It's pretty normal for people to do that.
G: Talk to each other through animals?
G: Seems like it might be hard to get a message through such channels.
L: It's not literal; it just means...
G: Lot of potential for broken links in that communication chain.
L: (pause, changes tone, she's not going to play any more) I'm glad you like the puppy. (turns away)
G: Oh, I don't.
G: Hate dogs.
L: Alright, fine...
G: The cuter they are, the more I hate 'em.
L: (she protects Scoot with her arms, turns completely away from him) I get the point.
G: (looking at her back) Wellll, so do I. Hey. You're doing it again.
G: I'm talking about your dog, and you're taking it personally.
L: He's MY dog. Why wouldn't I take it personally?
G: That's a big part of the problem. You think you own the dog.
L: I do. I rescued him from the humane society.
G: Yeah? You break in late at night though a ceiling vent, subdue three guards with precision martial arts moves, untie little Scoot here from the railroad tracks right before the Midnight Express rolled through the kennel?
L: Ha. ... Ha.
G: But you don't really own the dog. It's an animal.
L: He's mine.
G: He's yours willingly? Or do you just keep him with food?
L: Yes and yes.
G: Can't have it both ways. He's either yours willingly, in which case he doesn't need to be kept with food; or you keep him with food, in which case he's not yours of his own free will.
L: Listen... nah, forget it. I'm going.
G: Face it, lady, your dog's a whore for food.
L: (standing up, then turning on him) What is wrong with you? You get off ridiculing people for having pets; you're like some hypocritical animal liberation freak... no pets, set them free, but then you say you hate them?!
G: No, I just hate dogs, whether they are pets or not. I don't hate all pets.
L: Who cares?! You're just mean, that's all.
G: Yes. I know.
L: Well, stop it!
G: Why do you care?!
L: (she doesn't know why she cares, this throws her) Uhhh... because... I don't want you walking around... and... and... like... making fun of people for trying to talk through their... their.... ummm... uhhhh....
G: Again, why do you care?
L: Listen, I don't, alright?! I mean, you're cruel. Making fun of puppies?
G: I'm not making fun of your dog.
L: You called him a whore!
G: Figure of speech.
L: Figure of speech?
G: Yeah... must have hit a chord in you though.
L: You.... You pathetic.... jerk.
G: Again, I was talking about the dog, not you.
L: Stop hiding behind that!
G: I just don't like dogs, and I think people should speak for themselves.
L: How can you just expect people to not stand up for their pets when you treat them like that?
G: Treat whom?
L: Their pets!
G: Well, you could let your dog defend itself.
L: It's a puppy. It's defenseless.
G: Well, I mean it could defend itself with rigorous debate.
L: You're a... unbelievable. It's a dog!
G: Yeah, I know.
L: It doesn't defend itself through debate!
G: Right. You know why?
L: I don't want to hear from you about what stupid...
G: Because it can't understand what we're saying.
L: Yes, they can! Dogs can!
G: Ohhh... they get little things; their names, very common words that promise them reward, but I can guarantee you that Scoot here doesn't have the slightest inkling what a whore is.
L: That's not the point. It's just cruel and wicked to say!
G: If the dog doesn't get it, has no understanding, why is it cruel?
L: Because it's unneccesary and the sign of a horrible person.
G: Okay. Glad we got that squared away.
L: (turns away from him, slowly decides to say something else) Why did you talk to me?
G: Because I love people.
L: This was about me, right?
G: Noooo.... jeez, you just love yourself.
L: You're hitting on me.
L: Yes. You are. You're hitting on me.
G: Why would you care?
L: I just... like to know.
G: Listen. (long pause as he leans toward her) You have a cute.... dog.
L: You hate dogs.
G: But they don't know that.
G: If I tell you that you have a cute dog, what does that mean to you?
G: Yes, after everything you've learned here today.
L: Well... If you told me that I have a cute dog, now, then I would figure you were setting me up to cruelly attack the dog, me, and the whole concept of pet ownership.
L: I would realize what a prick you were.
L: I would leave.
(L looks at him in confusion)
G: You... haven't.
L: (pause) Left?
G: You have not left. That's all that needs to be said.
L: I just... uhhh...
G: I'm not holding you here.
L: I know... I... was going to go...
G: I've insulted your dog. I've insulted you.
L: I... uh...
G: What's your name?
G: (insistent) What's you name?
L: I can't...
G: (more insistent) What's your name?
L: You're horrible...
G: (shouting) What's your name!!?
G: (a few heavy breaths) Hi, Lisa. My name's Galt.
G: Why do you have the dog, Lisa?
L: I ... I... like dogs.
G: No. You don't.
L: I... uhhh... (long pause, she sits down heavily) I don't.
G: You wanted me to hit on you through your dog, didn't you, Lisa?
L: Well, not just you.... anyone.
G: Sure, but today it was me, and I bit.
L: Well, yes.
(G takes the puppy and ties its leash to the back of the bench while talking)
G: I knew this about you. You had that weird look in your eyes that said, "Ask my adorable puppy if you can sleep with me."
L: I didn't think it was so obvious.
G: Yes, it was, but I'm freeing you of this, Lisa. You don't have to be ensnared in this fool's game any longer. You can ask for love yourself.
L: It's not possible.... it never works.
G: (becomes a personal coach now) It is possible, and you're going to do it right now!
L: No... I can't.
G: (standing up in a "power" position) You WILL do it!
G: Compliment me.
L: No, it's not going...
G: Tell me I have a handsome face.
L: Well... (long pause)
G: Do it!
L: (quickly, with much shame) You have a handsome face.
G: And nice hair.
L: And nice hair.
G: No! What about my hair is nice? Find it, Lisa, find it!
L: It's so... combed?
G: Now, personalize it.
(L looks confused)
G: "Ohh, Galt, I can't believe how inordinately sexy your hair is!" or something like that, but include my name!
L: Ummm... yes... Galt, your hair is very stubbornly sexy!
G: Close enough. Now, heat it up, Lisa. Be the woman, be the very woman, damnit!
L: (does some awkward seductress moves, not good at them) Uhhh... like this?
G: No! Damnit! No! Stand up! Good... now, grab my ass!
(L looks terrified, long awkward pause)
G: Grab it! Grab it now!
L: (doing so, awkwardly) Okay?
G: Now, pull me in closer, and rub your body up and down mine.
(she starts to do so, very quickly)
G: We're not trying to start an actual fire here. Slowly. Slowly.
(she slows down, let's go of his ass)
G: Hands on the ass! Hands on the ass! I cannot over-stress the importance of keeping your hands on my ass!!! And slower still, alright? No aerobicizing needed.
(L does so for a little while longer)
G: Good. Good.... very good... now look at that dog, Lisa. Look at it.
L: Do I keep my hands on your ass?
G: No, no, not necessary... stand up straight and look at that dog, Lisa. Just you and the dog. Lisa, there's been a lie told here today. I told it. I said that dog was a whore, Lisa. I was wrong. No, Lisa, that leash runs both ways... you are the whore, Lisa. And that chubbly-wubbly li'l ball o' fur right there? That is your pimp.
L: Say it isn't so!
G: I can't lie to you again, Lisa. You don't have to do this... waiting around in the park for guys to pick you up through your dog! Suffering under the brutal demands of this flamboyant puppy-pimp... no, today, Lisa, you set yourself free... say good-bye to your Kibble-Daddy, Lisa... you needn't be a pet-pimped prostitute any more.
G: NO! Now you can be independent! A free-lancer! A hooker off the hook! You choose the sex, you collect the money, you pay no one!
L: (very excited) I'm... I'm... (quickly crashing back to reality) not a prostitute.
G: Not with that attitude your not! Now, let's get back to your independence.
L: I was grabbing your ass?
G: Well, it's time we move on from there. You live around here?
L: About five blocks that way.
G: I think we'd better start some private lessons, Lisa. Today will be the first sex of the rest of your life!
L: Wow... really?
G: Yes, Lisa, and it will hardly cost you anything.
(G grabs L's hand, and they start walking offstage)
G: Doesn't it feel better already, Lisa? Getting away from that terrible, cute thing?
L: Welllll... yes. Yes. I... I guess it does.
(They are offstage)
G: Okay, grab my ass while we walk. Ooo! That's it.
(lights fade on the whiney and cuddley Scoot, he whimpers as he sits on the bench)