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Paper or Plastic?

Script By: parkelis

Anne thinks her and Andy are over. Andy talks like he and Anne are over. But deep down, does something - some sort of romance - remain between the two.

Thank you Anna Lopresti for co-writing this with me! :-)

Submitted:Aug 20, 2011    Reads: 149    Comments: 16    Likes: 8   

Ali Khan as Andy
Anna Lopresti as Anne

Andy: HMPH. It's Monday, but yet, I still sense your unpleasant presence. I guess the garbage man forgot to pick you up and take you to the local landfill. What a shame.

Anne: At least have the common courtesy to dispose of me in a metaphorical recycling bin. Let's try to be a little green here, okay.

Andy: Any recycling bin would be too good for you. Tell me, who would want your parts recycled anyway? They're all used up and worn out. For you, trash will do. Someone please take her away. She wreaks the pungent stench of envy and scorn alive.

Anne: Weren't you the one once enamored by my so-called "used parts?" And what about your smell? You exude the odor of a long-deceased soul. Oh wait, you never did have a soul. My bad. That'll be all today. I wouldn't trouble you to put any more words together, as I know how dreadfully difficult the task is for you.

Andy: A war of wits is what you seek. I'll gleefully give you one. Do I see you throwing away paper or plastic? You never could choose. Black or white? You couldn't choose on that front either. Your garbage bag was open 24/7, and you just let any trash find its way into you.

Anne: Have you always been this simple-minded? Black or white? As if those are the only two options. Also, if my bag was ever open, it was because your trash wasn't satisfying.

Further, the garbage man's name is Frank. If you're going to banish me to his truck, you may as well be acquainted. I certainly have been. We met up when your trash and my bag were still canoodling.

Andy: You're foul. I've thought it over. I have enough decency to spare this Frank from you, as well as spare landfills from your inflated bag and bottom. I've ordered for your immediate cremation. You're a rarity, like the American flag - only buried or burned. That's how you like your men right? Buried beneath you or burned by your dirty bag?

Anne: Is that all you've got? I didn't know we had reentered the 3rd grade. When you come up with something a little more intelligent, speak to me. For now, my bag and I are returning home. Good day. (Anne leaves)

Andy: She brought up my trash and her bag canoodling. All that banter, and she still loves me. I love you too, Anne.


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