Sunday, October 28, 2007


GUNNER - I can’t believe this has never come up.

FAB - Me neither. What are we, going on 10 years here?

GUNNER - Sounds right.

FAB - And we never talked about this. You sure?

GUNNER - Pretty sure.

FAB - Fucked, that’s what it is.

GUNNER - Gang-fucked is what it is.

FAB - Fuckin’ A.

          FAB and GUNNER sit on their couch. A long period of silence invades the room as FAB finds an old
          Rubik's Cube underneath the couch cushion and starts where he left off, trying to solve it.                              


FAB - Huh?

GUNNER - So? Mine is "Bad Lieutenant." What’s your called?

FAB – Oh! See, that’s why we never talked about this shit. I don’t really have a name for mine.

GUNNER – You serious.

FAB – Hardcore.

GUNNER – See, that’s just goofy. You need a name for your cock, man. Not having a name for your dick is just plain un-American.

FAB – Fuck that! I’m 100% patriotic, Gun. I don’t spend my time shitting on flags, but I also don’t spend it coming up with dumb Harvey Keitel references for my dong. I mean, "Bad Lietenant?" Why "Bad Lieutenant?"

GUNNER – Are you kidding me? Keitel takes not one bit of shit from anybody in that flick. He’s a mean, lean, hard mutherfucker in "Bad Lieutenant!" That describes my cock to a ‘T.’ And it’s the only cool name I could find out of all of his movies. What else do I have to choose from? "Mean Streets?" "The Piano?" Those dick names don’t even make sense!

FAB – What about "Mister White?"

          GUNNER sits, stunned. It’s clear that this choice never occurred to him.

GUNNER – Look, it’s been "Bad Lieutenant" through four girlfriends. I ain’t changing it. You’re such a fan-fucking-tastic name genius, why don’t you have one for "Lil’ Fab?"

FAB – Fine! Fine! I have one, okay? But it wasn’t my choice and I certainly don’t work it into foreplay like some people. (doing a GUNNER imitation) "Open wide for the ‘Bad Lieutenant’!"

GUNNER – First off, I have never said anything that queer. And what do you mean it wasn’t your choice? C’mon, make with the give-give!

FAB – Carla named it, alright? And she isn’t the kind of person who wants other people to know about our sex life, so this stays between you, me and the garden gate! You dig me?

GUNNER – Yes, garden gate, yes. So, what does she call your dick?

FAB – Kevin.

          GUNNER’s mouth gapes open.

GUNNER – ‘Kevin??!!?’

FAB – Yes. Kevin. Do not tell her I told you this, or I swear to Christ . . .

GUNNER – Why Kevin?

FAB – I don’t know! She just likes that name! What do you want from me?

GUNNER – I want to know where Kevin enters into the picture!

FAB – I told you I don’t know, alright? Jesus!

          They both sit there for a while. GUNNER is lost in thought, while FAB goes back to the Rubik’s Cube.

GUNNER – Kevin.

FAB – Yes! Kevin! Yes!!

GUNNER – Shit, say what you want about "Bad Lieutenant." At least that sounds cool as cock names go, but Kevin. That’s not even a real name.

FAB – Of course it’s a real name. There are millions of Kevins all over the world.

GUNNER – No, I just mean it has no lineage as a name, Fab. There were no Kevins on the Mayflower. None of the names on the Ellis Island log books have Kevin in them. It’s a made-up, fakey name like ‘Hoyt’ or ‘Creed’ or . . .

FAB – ‘Fab’ or ‘Gunner.’

GUNNER – At least those are interesting. ‘Kevin?!!??’ That’s just sad.

FAB – Well, whatevs. You wanted to know my dick name, now you know.

GUNNER – And I wish Kevin and Carla the best of luck.



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