Reality Binge...

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. LIVING ROOM – AFTERNOON

O’Neill and Yellow Tail are sprawled out on the couches in their pajamas mid bad tv marathon. It’s your typical rainy Saturday afternoon.

YELLOW TAIL

Mind if I change it?

INNER O’NEILL

But it’s the haunted house cake competition. They're seconds away from moving an 8ft devils food zombie!

O’NEILL

Sure.

Yellow Tail snatches up the remote and flips to VH1.

YELLOW TAIL

Ever watch I Love Money?

O’NEILL

Um…

YELLOW TAIL

You’ll love it.

O’Neill stares at the TV in a mixture of confusion and slight horror.

ON TV

Two girls in chicken suits dig through a vat of mud for over-sized egg shaped nerf balls.

INNER O’NEILL

Love’s not the word I would use…

O’NEILL

It’s um…

YELLOW TAIL

I know it looks a little crazy. But it’s great tv. Trust me.

INNER O’NEILL

Great TV? Really? I guess I missed I Love Money winning an Emmy last year.

YELLOW TAIL

It’s definitely not as good as Rock of Love or I love New York. But it’s good.

INNER O’NEILL
You know we have 300 plus channels, right? A little Discovery channel or TLC never hurt anyone.

YELLOW TAIL

Did you watch I Love New York?

INNER O’NEILL

Of course! I have the complete boxset. It was in the welcome basket when I join Mensa.

O’NEILL

Nope.

YELLOW TAIL

You know who New York is? She was on Flavor of Love.

INNER O’NEILL
Why doesn’t VH1 just rename itself VHLove?

O’NEILL

Gotchya.

YELLOW TAIL

You watch any reality TV?

O’NEILL
Not really. Battlestar and Lost are more of my speed.

Yellow Tail shoots O’Neill an “I’m silently judging your taste in tv” look.

YELLOW TAIL

Battlestar? Interesting…

INNER O’NEILL
Don’t fraking judge my guilt pleasures and I won’t judge yours.

Sounds Like...

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. CAB – AFTERNOON

Rush hour New York City. A place where braking, right aways, and turn signals are unheard of.

O’Neill flings herself into the back seat trying to juggle her messenger bag, gym bag, coat, and cell phone.

O’NEILL

7^th and Houston please.

MUMBLES looks back over his shoulder and flashes a friendly, jack-o-lantern smile.

MUMBLES
House tree?

INNER O’NEILL
Houston we have a problem…

O’NEILL

Houston.

Mumbles vigorously shakes his head and then stomps on gas sending O’Neill tumbling across the backseat.

INNER O’NEILL
I don’t remember saying step on it…

A beat.

O’Neill gets her bearings, goes to reach for her earphones, and—

MUMBLES

So much bat trick. Bat trick. Bat trick.

A quizzical look sweeps across O’Neill’s face.

O’NEILL
Excuse me?

MUMBLES

Bat trick. So many bars. Many many bars.

INNER O’NEILL

Bars? Either he happens to be the spokes person for Betty Fords or is inventing a new language for the hell of it.

Mumbles stares at O’Neill in the rear view mirror eagerly awaiting a response.

O’NEILL

(unsure)

Yeah… So many….

MUMBLES

Such bad rye verts too. Very, very bad.

INNER O’NEILL

I’ll take indecipherable English for $500, Alex.

O’NEILL

(to herself)

Rye verts… Rye verts…

(pause)

Drivers!

MUMBLES

Yes! Rye verts.

O’NEILL

Yeah. New York’s known for them.

MUMBLES

So many back tis rents.

INNER O’NEILL

Ok, O’Neill, time to put your puzzle solving skills to use…

O’NEILL
Back… Acts… Acts tis… Accidents?

MUMBLES

Yes. So so many.

A beat.

Mumbles hangs a hard left, cuts across four lanes of traffic, and pulls up only millimeters from the curb.

MUMBLES

7^th and House tree.

O’Neill gathers her belongs and hands Mumbles a ten.

O’NEILL

Thanks.

INNER O’NEILL

Next time I’m bringing a translator.

Blue Eyes

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. AMERICAN EAGLE – DAY

Vintage cut polos. Frayed jeans. Cargo shorts. Simply an endless array of lesbian wardrobe staples.

O’Neill ogles the rainbow of polos before her.

INNER O’NEILL

I don’t need another polo. Yes, I want one... I want more than one. But I don’t NEED one.

O’Neill starts to walk away, stops, and then doubles back.

INNER O’NEILL

Who am I kidding? I gonna get the polo.

KEGGERS spots O’Neill looking at the polos and sidles up next to her. Dressed head to toe in American Eagle, he appears as if he’s just stepped out of an storefront ad.

KEGGER

Can I help you with something?

O’NEILL

Actually, yeah. Can you get me that polo?

KEGGER

The navy one?

O’NEILL

Yeah. Thanks.

KEGGER

What size does he wear?

INNER O’NEILL

Wait a minute…

O’NEILL

He?

KEGGER.

Your boyfriend.

O’Neill fights the urge to burst out laughing.

KEGGER

(confused)

Everything ok?

INNER O’NEILL

Oh this is gonna be fun.

O’NEILL

Sorry.

(pause)

Yeah. My boyfriend. Um… I think he’s a small.

KEGGER

You sure about that? That’s pretty tiny for a guy.

INNER O’NEILL

That’s cause it’s not for a guy.

KEGGER

What’s he look like?

O’NEILL

6’1. Kinda lengthy. Broad shoulders. Bright blue eyes—

INNER O’NEILL

…Is completely imaginary.

KEGGER

Blue eyes? You definitely shouldn’t go with navy. Try yellow.

INNER O’NEILL

Um… translucently pale here. Yellows are avoided at all cost.

O’NEILL

Actually—

Kegger grabs a yellow polo off of the shelf and hands it to O’Neill.

KEGGER

Trust me. Yellow brings out blue eyes. Like yours.

(pause)

Anyone ever tell you you’ve got killer blue eyes?

INNER O’NEILL

Really? Hitting on me? Buddy, we’re wearing the same exact jeans! Need a bigger hint?

A beat.

Kegger reaches into his pocket and pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen. He scribbles down a number.

KEGGER

Listen, I don’t normally do this but if things ever go south with your boy give me a call.

O’Neill looks at the digits as a devilish smile crawls across her face.

INNER O’NEILL

Time to go in for the kill…

O’NEILL

Thanks. You’re adorable. Really. But you’re not my type. My boyfriend, though, absolutely loves frat boys.

(pause)

Quick question. You a top or a bottom?