8pm at the Pie Hole. BOB, the “chef” is sending a customer off into the night after they bought their pizza. BOB is about 18. He likes paintball, hunting, first person shooter games, firing ranges, the idea of the army, and Kathy.

BOB: Enjoy that double pepperoni Pie Hole specialty, made with double the meat, double the cheese and double the love!

The customer is gone. Bob immediately enacts an elaborate and violent gun based assault on the retreating customer, not cuz the customer was an asshole or anything, Bob is just always thinking about ways to kill people.

Kathy enters from the back room. Kathy is gorgeous and she knows it. She’s never on time. She’s 20 and not a fan of this job, but it pays her rent.

KATHY: Hi, Bob.

Bob is caught.

BOB: Hey, uh, where the fuck have you been?

KATHY: Um, right here since 5 till 7 when I punched in as far as you’re concerned, Freakshow.

BOB: Right, yeah. Cover you again. Good ‘ol Bob.

KATHY: I’m sorry, what weapon were you fantasizing about using to blow that nice customer’s head off? FK double barrel 7000 or some shit?

BOB: You don’t even know any real gun models.

KATHY: That’s because I’m a normal person with friends and a life.

BOB: Blow me.

Kathy laughs. It’s not a laugh that makes Bob feel very good. Kathy pulls a Cosmo out of her purse.

BOB: It’s been quiet all night.


BOB: That guy was one of only like two customers tonight.

Pause. Kathy turns the page of her magazine.

BOB: Just thought you should know, seeing as you work here and all.

KATHY: Do I look like I’m working?

BOB: It drives me crazy every Tuesday that you just ignore me and we sit here and do nothing all night!

KATHY: Oh, that’s not fair, Bob. I wouldn’t count jacking off in the dough vat as nothing. I think you’re very productive.
BOB: You’re disgusting. It’s like you’re not even a real girl.

KATHY: Oh, are you an expert on girls?

BOB: You’re a real dick. You’re a girl dick.
KATHY: That’s called a bitch, Bob.

BOB: Well, then you’re a bitch! You just walk all over me and [the phone rings] . And you think I’m just gonna roll over and [ring] Are you going to answer that?

Kathy doesn’t respond. Bob answers the phone

BOB: Yes, hello, Pie Hole? I’m sorry, we don’t deliver. No ma’am. Yes, I know it’s very unusual. Sorry. Yeah, Pizza Hut does. Until 11. Sure. 446-9300. Sure, no worries. Goodnight!

He hangs up.

KATHY: Does it occur to you that you shouldn’t give our competitors business?

BOB: She was set on pizza. She told me she was really looking forward to it.

KATHY: You’re a shitwad.

BOB: Hey thanks.

Bob trains an invisible gun on Kathy until she’s in his crosshairs.

KATHY: Hey Columbine, go be creepy somewhere else.

Bob gives up and goes over to the boom box in the prep area. He puts on Def Leppard. He begins to pound dough.

KATHY: What are you doing back there?

BOB: Pounding dough.

KATHY: I bet.

Bob stops pounding dough . She’s really getting under his skin now.

BOB: Pour some sugar on me! In the name of love!

Kathy goes over and turns off the boom box.

BOB: Hey!

KATHY: I’ll sue you for sexual harassment if you put that back on. Don’t think for a moment you’d win.

They sit in silence. Bob tries to start a conversation several times, but he’s been burned, man, and can’t think of a damn thing to say.

The phone rings.

Bob scrambles to answer.

BOB: Hello, pie hole. Not too busy, Ms. Gennecopolis.

Kathy looks up at him.

BOB: No, ma’am, only like two customers. We’re holding in here.

Kathy looks back down at her magazine, satisfied.

BOB: Oh, I’m sorry, did I say we? I meant me, uh, I. I’m holding in here.

Kathy back on Bob.

BOB: No, she’s not.

Kathy grabs for the phone. Bob backs away (it would help if this were a cordless phone). They have a short chase.

BOB: No, well, she usually leaves me alone most of Tuesday night.

KATHY: I’m right here Ms. G!

BOB: I’m sorry,  Ms. G, a customer just came in, I’llhavetogobye.

He hangs up.


BOB: (sarcastic) I’m so sorry!!

KATHY: You fucker, you fucker, you fucker!! You just threw me under the bus!

BOB: Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me.

Bob walks away in triumph, perhaps taking her Cosmo and starting to explore it. Kathy slowly begins to weep silently. She probably sits on the floor. It can be a little grotesque– she’s not one to cry very often and it doesn’t sit on her well. Bob isn’t aware at first, but then he raises his head like he smells smoke, glances at her and double takes on her as she really begins to lose it.

BOB: Oh!

Kathy wails.

BOB: Oh! Kathy, shit, I’m, oh!

Bob goes over to her, afraid to touch her.

KATHY: I’m so screwed!

BOB: I’m sorry.

Kathy wails.

BOB: Jesus, Kathy, I’ll tell her I was joking, it’s, I’m sorry!

KATHY: You will?

Bob sits next to her.

BOB: Sure. (he’s maybe not so sure)

KATHY: (after a beat, sniffling) Sucker.

Kathy pushes Bob over, climbs on top of him, gives him a super extreme kiss, gets up, steps over him–maybe on him– and wipes away his spit and the last of her tears as she opens up her magazine again.

BOB: (frozen on the floor) Uh…

KATHY: (without looking up) Shut up.

Phone rings. Neither of them move.