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INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM. MORNING
Spud opens his eyes. With his fingers, he feels crusted liquid around his mouth.
Abruptly he turns around: the bed is soaked in vomit.
He looks under the cover and drops it again in revulsion.
INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM. DAY
Spud wipes the vomit from his chest with a pillowcase, which he dumps in the middle of the sheets before gathering the whole lot up as a bundle.
INT. GAIL'S HOME, HALL/KITCHEN. DAY
The door swings open to reveal the kitchen. Gail, her Father, and Mother are seated around the table, eating breakfast. They look towards Spud, who carries the knotted bundle of sheets as he approaches the table.
GAIL
Good morning, Spud.
SPUD
Morning, Gail. Morning, Mrs. Houston, Mr. Houston.
MOTHER
Morning, Spud. Sit down and have some breakfast.
SPUD
Sorry about last night -
GAIL
It's all right. I slept fine on the sofa.
SPUD
I had a little too much to drink. I'm afraid I had a slight accident.
FATHER
Oh, don't worry, these things happen. It does everyone good to cut loose once in a while.
GAIL
This one could do with being tied up once in a while.
MOTHER
I'll put the sheets in the washing machine just now.
SPUD
No, I'll wash them. I'll take them home and bring them back.
MOTHER
There's no need.
SPUD
It's no problem.
MOTHER
No problem for me either.
MOTHER
Honestly, it's no problem.
SPUD
I'd really rather take care of it myself.
MOTHER
Spud, they're my sheets.
She takes hold of the bundle.
Spud does not yield.
She pulls harder. Spud holds on. She tugs powerfully.
The bundle bursts open with an explosion of vomit and excrement that covers everything in the kitchen.
Only Spud remains untouched.
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SPUD
I guess this means I'll never get to have sex with Gail.
― gygax! (gygax!), Friday, 6 February 2004 18:08 (twenty years ago) link
fifteen years pass...