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The Virgin Salmon
By AlanGrant5
The Virgin Salmon
by Devin Da Graca
CHARACTERS
JOEY: Pacific Salmon; small, vulgar, horny
JIMMY: Pacific Salmon; lumbering, over-sized oaf, clueless but innocent
NEMA: Pacific Salmon; female, smart, sarcastic
SETTING
The Pacific Ocean. An underwater vehicle bubbles through the deep blue. JOEY is driving, while JIMMY is in the passenger seat.
JIMMY: Hey, Joey, you got any cologne on ya?
JOEY: Cologne? What in the hell do you need cologne fuh?
JIMMY: To smell good for my lady, that’s all.
JOEY: Fuh ya lady? First of all, let’s not go off into the deep end, thinkin’ ya’s gonna get wit’ a lady. Secondly, would ya take a good look at where we’re at? We’re in the middle of the fuckin’ ocean! You know how many different kinds of shit we’re swimmin’ through? You’d be lucky if you came outta this yuck smellin’ like a skunk’s asshole!
JIMMY: Oh...
JOEY: Cologne... ha!
JIMMY: So... do ya got any or was that-
JOEY: NO! I ain’t got no stinkin’ cologne, aright?
JIMMY: Gosh, you don’t gotta be so mean about it Joey.
JOEY: (Eyes bugging out with frustration.) I DON’T GOTTA BE SO ME... (Simmers down.) Ahhh, you’re right, you’re right. I apologize– I just really wanna get to where we’re goin’ and be done wid’it, ya know? If it takes any longer gettin’ there, I’m tellin’ ya, the nut I bust’ll wipe out half of fuckin’ India. I mean, I got a fuckin’ tsunami pent up down here, you know what I’m sayin’?
JIMMY: (Chuckling.) Yeah, I know what you’re sayin’ Joey.
JOEY: Good.
JIMMY: Joey?
JOEY: Huh?
JIMMY: What’s a tsunami?
JOEY: Ugh, fuhget it! All that matta’s is that we’re gonna get laid– ya get that much don’t ya?
JIMMY: Oh, heck yes! Look, I even bought these before we left. (A string of condoms descend from his fin like a limp accordion.)
JOEY: What tha hell are dose?
JIMMY: Condoms!
(Joey swipes the condoms out of Jimmy’s fin.)
JOEY: Are you fuckin’ stupid?
JIMMY: Hey! What, no, safety first!
JOEY: Safety first? Where the hell are you from? The 1950s? What else did ya bring? Smokey the fuckin’ Bear to congratulate us on not setting the ocean on fire?
JIMMY: ... I knew I forgot something!
(Joey tosses the condoms out the window.)
JOEY: The beauty of it all, ya see Jimmy, is dat we can hook up with any broad we want. She can be as clean as soap, or as dirty as ya mutha at a naval army base on Saint Patrick’s Day– doesn’t matta. And do you wanna know why it doesn’t matta?
JIMMY: No, why Joey?
JOEY: ‘Cause, either way, whether some trashy whore gives us her herpes or not, we’re gonna die.
JIMMY: Die? What do you mean we’re gonna die?
JOEY: What do you mean, ‘what do I mean?’ I mean we’re gonna die.
JIMMY: We’re gonna die?!?!
JOEY: Ahh, Jesus... don’t ya know anything? Yes, die! That’s just the way things go– it’s a– it’s a, I dunno, a process. L.F.D.– Live, Fuck, Die.
JIMMY: Live, fuck, die?
JOEY: Yeah, what? You think there’s more to life than that? This is it brotha; we’re on our way to the end of our lives.
JIMMY: Wha– and you’re okay with that?
JOEY: Well... yeah, I’m horny, what the fuck ya want?
JIMMY: What about finding true love, building a family, a career...
JOEY: What? You mean foreplay? Nah, no time fuh it. Unless you wanna be yankin’ it five times a day fuh thirty-some odd years until ya lose ya virginity to somethin’ more legitimate than ya fuckin’ fin, heh.
JIMMY: So, after we have sex–
JOEY: Boom, that’s it, we’re done. Think of it like this– we’re Japanese bomma planes and we’re headin’ fuh Pearl Harbuh. All’s we’re doin’ is droppin’ off our load and flyin’ away... until... we’re hit by enemy fire... and our parachutes fail to deploy.... I dunno, whatevah metaphor works fuh ya, use that.
JIMMY: Well... that sounds... that sounds horrible.
JOEY: Horrible-Shmorible, we’re here!
(The bubble-car comes to a stop. Before them-- an astounding fish-on-fish orgy.)
JOEY: You rememba to bring the iPod? I wanna listen to some Rolling Stones to get my groove in gear.
JIMMY: (Lost in thought.) Huh?
JOEY: Snap out of it will ya? Ipod!
(Jimmy tosses Joey the iPod. Both exit the vehicle and make their way into the salmon mating grounds.)
JOEY: (Overseeing the humping crowd.)Would ya look at that– fuckin’ Salmon and Gomorrah ova here. Beautiful, beautiful.
JIMMY: (Having second thoughts.) I don’t know if I can do this Joey...
JOEY: What do ya mean? Of course you can... is this about what I said earlier? ‘Bout you not gettin’ a lady? Look, yeah, you’re ugly, but ya know somethin’? These broads are practically programed to be horny; there’s virtually no way for you to not get laid tonight.
JIMMY: It’s not that Joey, I just don’t think I’m ready for my life to be–
JOEY: Yeah, well, catch ya on the flip side brotha. (Joey dive-bombs into an army of sexing salmon.) Come to papa!
(Jimmy stands awkwardly before the orgy. He begins to float on through the mash-pit as several male salmon drop dead in his way. Jimmy carefully swims around the timbering fishes, until he reaches the other end of the mating grounds. He looks back in awe, while NEMA, a female salmon observes him from behind.)
NEMA: Hey, there big boy.
(Jimmy turns around.)
NEMA: Wanna... (Looks around playfully.) do the nastay?
JIMMY: Uh... no–no thank you, but thank you... for asking. That was nice. (He shyly turns back to face the mating grounds.)
NEMA: Thank God.
(Jimmy, intrigued by her response, faces Nema again.)
JIMMY: Thank God?
NEMA: Oh, not that I wouldn’t... do... you, or anything. I’m not being a bitch and like denying you, or something, I’m just... I just don’t want to.
JIMMY: (Smiles.) Oh, no, me neither. Did you know that right afterwards, you–
NEMA: Die? Yeah, I know. Scary thought.
JIMMY: Tell me about it! I don’t know if I’m ready to just end like that.
NEMA: Same here... it makes that whole thing over there so impersonal doesn’t it? I mean, when you think about it, what you’re really doing is dying with a complete stranger.
JIMMY: Hmm... I never thought about it like that.
NEMA: I’d rather die having accomplished things and with someone I actually know, you know? There’s so much over there that’s lacking meaning... and value... it’s actually pretty sick.
JIMMY: Yeah...
(Jimmy and Nema stare at the dying fish before them, contemplating the images into disgust.)
JIMMY: So... you wanna get out of here?
NEMA: It would be my pleasure.
(The two begin to swim away from the mating grounds.)
NEMA: The name’s Nema by the way.
JIMMY: Oh, yeah, gosh, I’m sorry. Nema, I’m Jimmy.
NEMA: Nice to meet ya Jimmy. (Pause.) You know, now that we’ve introduced ourselves, we should totally go back there and screw each others brains out!
JIMMY: Huh? What? Are you serious? I don’t think-
NEMA: (Laughing.) No! You should’ve seen the look on your face! We need to work on your sarcasm-detecting skills buddy.
JIMMY: Oh, ha-ha. Well, I’m glad you were being sarcastic because... you’re ugly.
(Nema’s jaw drops.)
NEMA: Hey! That’s not a very nice thing to say.
JIMMY: (Laughing.) I was just being sarcastic! You should’ve seen the look on your face!
NEMA: That wasn’t even sarcasm! Do you even know what sarcasm means? Sarcasm’s when...
(The two salmon swim off into the darkness; their chit-chat fading out, as fish continue to die behind them.)
THE END
10/18/2006 1:15:59 AM
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