Scene One: Squeegees and Privates, er, Pirates
Opens with Drew lying in his coffin, reading a book. Merrill prances up (yes, prances)
Merrill: Hi Drew! Is that a squeegee in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
Drew: (pulling a squeegee from, ah, somewhere in those rather tight pants) It's a squeegee.
Merrill: Oh. Wait. Why do you have a squeegee in your, uh, pocket?
Drew: Merrill, you could've said High Ranking members of the Russian Mafia and I would've found a way to pull them out of my, uh, pocket. Wait, why am I talking in italics and innuendoes?
(Marty, who's been eavesdropping, pokes his, uh, head in)
Marty: Ya know Drew, you seem to have a fascination with the idea of manly Mafia members in your, uh, pocket.
Drew (muttering): I'm not gay.
Marty: Riight. And that's why there isn't a 'ridiculously-good-looking' blonde named Andre outside, that isn't dressed in swashbuckling pirate garb.
Drew (looking stricken): But, but, today isn't Tuesday is it?
(Stands up, knocking book to the floor) Oh god it is! (Rushes out)
Marty (looking visibly shaken): Truth is stranger than fiction. The only thing stranger is when my fiction becomes truth.
Merrill (muttering): He's not gay.
Marty (deciding not to hear her): Hey! He forgot his squeegee!
Merrill (sarcastically): Oh, now how's he gonna wash windows?
Marty (dropping the squeegee as if it had cooties, which it probably did, and eyeing Merrill like she just said Christmas had been replaced with Annual Wash Your Underwear day.) Merrill, I hope to god that's not a euphemism for something dirty!
Merrill kicks the offending squeegee and stalks away.
Marty (peering all around to make sure he's alone): Well, why let a good squeegee go to waste?
(He then pockets it and sidles away humming the theme from Mission: Impossible)
Scene shift to the big round table where Karl and Essie are having a rather dirty conversation…
Essie: Here's another, lick it.
Karl: mm-mmf
Essie: No, not like that! You gotta lick the whole thing.
Karl (slightly muffled with something in his mouth): I'm twying. It'th hard!
Essie: oh, it's not that hard! I've done it before.
Karl (still muffled): Tho why don't you do it then? If you're thuch an ekthpert.
Essie: Karl, you know that's impossible.
Karl: Why ith it tho impothible?
Essie: For anatomical reasons!
(Drew walks in and, upon hearing that last statement, rotates 180° and walks out.)
Karl: What'th hith problem?
Essie: I dunno. Maybe he doesn't like stamps.
(And she proceeds to address another letter. What did you think they were doing?)
Karl: I think my tongue ith thwollen from all thith lickin' an' thtickin'.
Essie: Better you than me.
Karl: Why'th that now?
Essie: Because, for every stamp you lick, that's 1/10 of a calorie I don't have to count.
Karl (looking worried): Do I hafta count it?
Essie (smiling indulgently albeit creepily): Of course not Dearie.
Karl (looking even more worried): Dearie?
Essie (dropping her smile like a light sabre at a Trek convention) Quiet you.
(Enter Dr. Murdoch who pops up randomly, like zits)
Dr. Murdoch (a la Troy McClure from The Simpsons): Hi! (Insert toothy smile) I'm Dr. Murdoch. You may remember me from the last time I gave you clichéd advice on becoming more human!
(Upon receiving no acknowledgement he stomps huffily off to check on his pie)
(Marty and Merrill enter simultaneously because, well, if this chapter is going to have a climax we need them all in the same room)
Marty (switching from the theme to Mission: Impossible, to Aretha Franklin's Respect): hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm E-C-T, find out what it means to…
Essie: Uh, Marty…?
Marty (realising that he's been caught singing and feeling embarrassed and a leetle bit angry) What?
Essie (gleefully): You were singing Aretha Franklin! You were! You were! Hee hee!
Marty (frowning and pouting and basically resembling a rhinoceros) You ever notice how the first syllable of horny is whore? I think-
Merrill (because she hasn't said anything for awhile): Marty, whore starts with a W.
Marty: Don't interrupt. As I was saying, I think that if you're one… you're bound to be the other.
Karl: …and we all know that your one of them!
(Simultaneously): KARL!
Marty: You stole my punch line!
Essie: You called me horny!
(All eye her, amazed at her denial.)
Merrill (Unsure of what to tell her. Not because she's excessively nice, because there were so many ways to insult her and she couldn't decide which one to pick): He also called you…
Essie: A bore?
Merrill: Nooo…
Essie: A chore?
Merrill: Welll…
(Fortunately for Essie, Drew walks in then with… a Pirate?)
(Everyone does a cartoonish double take)
Drew (a la Dr Nick from the Simpsons): Hi Everybody!
Marty: Hi! Super-pouffe!
Drew (mystified): Pouffe? Whatever do you mean? (And proceeds to grope his… Pirate?)
Merrill (attempting to make small talk): So… Drew, are you going to introduce us to your, uh, Pirate?
Drew (looking shocked): Merrill! This is neither the time, nor the place!
Pirate (in a dramatic stage-whisper): I think she was talking about me.
Drew: Oh.
Merrill (slightly disappointed): Besides, it's midnight in a boarding school.
Drew: Your point?
Merrill: That's where 46% of teenage pregnancies occur.
Drew (staring): You want me to impregnate you?
Merrill: No I-
Drew (hysterically): I don't want to hear it! I've had enough of your corrupted agenda!
Marty (accusingly to Merrill): Now look what you've done! You've got Tinkerbelle in a right flap.
Karl: Tinkerbelle?
Marty: He's a fairy.
Karl (excitedly): Really? Can he fly?
Marty (putting his hand to his temple and sighing) Yes Karl. He can fly.
Karl (turning worshipful eyes to Drew): Wow.
(By this time Essie has noticed the Pirate, whose name is Andre, and has that hunting look in her eye… you know the one, we've all had it before!)
Essie: Well, well, well. What nummy little treat do we have here…
Drew (still hysterically) You can't eat my sex toy!
Essie (seizing his arm): Oh, you don't want him! You're still in denial about your sexuality!
Drew: Leggo my Andre! And I'm not gay.
Andre: Oh please, you're gayer than Christmas! And thanks for making me sound like edible panties…
Drew: Pipe down, or I'll let Essie have her way with you!
Andre (hurt): Down say things like that, you sadistic bastard!
Drew: You know you like it.
Andre (grinning): Yeah. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Drew: Does it involve a squeegee?
(At this Marty guiltily pulls his coat more tightly closed.)
Drew (reaches into his pocket for the squeegee, but instead pulls out a giant, spiked dildo): Hey! That's not my squeegee!
(Everyone stares at him, shocked)
Essie: Hey! You're the one who stole my penis!
(Everyone stares at her shocked, well not so much shocked as say, disgusted)
(Dr. Murdoch strolls in with a plate, presumably a plate of pie, and hears Essie)
Dr. Murdoch (confuzzled): Essie has a penis?
Marty: Well, not anymore.
Dr. Murdoch: Why not?
Marty: Drew stole it. He thought it would increase his masculinity.
Dr. Murdoch: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Not even a giant, spiked dildo could increase Drew's masculinity.
(Everyone stares at him, shocked)
Dr. Murdoch (noticing the stares): What? It's true!
Drew (muttering): I'm not gay.
Merrill (muttering): He's not gay.
Karl (muttering): Drew's not gay.
(Everyone looks at him)
Karl: What? Wasn't it my turn?
Dr. Murdoch: You sound like you could do with a piece of-
Karl (interrupting): Pie?
Dr. Murdoch: No. Peach cobbler.
(Everyone gapes openly, Dr. Murdoch doesn't notice. He's lost in the orgasmically good taste of Peach cobbler)
Marty: It's times like these that call for a cookie.
Merrill: A cookie?
Marty: A cookie. Preferably chocolate. Or peanut butter. Or both.
Merrill: I think someone needs a good dose of reality.
Marty: Reality is a crutch for people who can't handle Marty.
Karl: It is?
Essie: Actually it's 'Reality is a crutch for people who can't handle drugs'
Marty: Same thing.
Karl: It is?
Marty (singing): Could I be your wonder drug? Could I be the one you…
Essie (sarcastically): Gee. That's clever.
Karl: It is?
(Both look at him)
Essie: Ookay. I think I could use a cookie too.
Marty (looking scared): You can't have my cookies! I won't let you! (Rushes off)
Andre (to Drew): Wow. First my cookies. Then that guy's cookies. That chick sure is a-
Essie: bore?
Andre: Nooo… a-
Essie: chore?
Andre: Welll…
(Fortunately, for Essie, girlish shrieking is heard coming from the coffin room)
Andre (to Drew): Hey! You didn't lend him one of our toys, did you?
Drew (ignoring everyone else's sniggers): Of course not! Now pipe down!
Merrill: Why don't we all go see what the shrieking was for?
(They all go, albeit reluctantly. When they reach the coffin room they see Marty crouched on a chair, near tears.)
Essie: Looks like 'wonder drug' is on a bad trip.
Dr. Murdoch: Well, that wasn't very nice.
Essie (sounding contrite): Sorry Dr. Murdoch.
Dr. Murdoch: Darn tootin'! If anyone's going to insult Marty and belittle his self-esteem, it'll be me!
Andre (kindly): Marty, are you feeling a little oh-I-don't-know, psychotic today? (Pats him kindly on the shoulder)
Marty (a la Ralph Wiggums): Daddy, he's touching my special area!
Drew (in a breathy voice): It may seem wrong, but it feels so right!
(He then advances toward Andre, who is still standing over Marty)
(Marty squeals girlishly before knocking his chair over and himself silly)
Andre (looking at Marty who is dazed and sucking his thumb): Great, you stupefied it.
Drew (kicks Marty's foot): If this was an alien/action/horror flick, and you said that, it would make me the hero.
Merrill: Marty, why were you 'squealing girlishly'?
Marty (sniffing): I wanted a cookie. Bu-but there were bugs in the cookies!
Karl (looking up with a mouth full of cookie): Wha!?
Drew: Marty, you can't keep cookies in a coffin. For one thing, think of the crumbs, for another thing, it's blatant hording of cookies!
Marty (dropping the girly façade and growling): They're my cookies I'll horde them if I damn well please.
Drew (like a guest on Ricki Lake, if you don't know what they're like, heaven save us!): Oh! Don't make me go medieval on you, girlfriend!
Marty: Oh, don't even go there!
(At this point Merrill, Essie and Andre are eating popcorn and watching the 'catfight', Which has progressed to hair pulling and Shakespearian insults.)
Drew (throwing himself at Marty): Cry Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war!
Marty (stepping aside and watching Drew fall on his face): What? Wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?
(Drew leaps up and using telekinesis Marty pulls down his pants revealing… pink striped boxers. Angered beyond reason, Drew claws blindly at Marty's jacket unknowingly freeing…)
Drew (in joy): My squeegee!
Marty (in embarrassment): I, uh, wonder how that got there.
Drew: How could you do this to me Marty? Don't you know how much this squeegee means to my sexual relations!
Marty (shuddering): Frankly m'dear, I don't give a damn.
(At this point Drew notices that his pants are still down and Merrill, Essie and Andre are oggling his goods. Well, Andre he doesn't mind, but Essie? Merrill? That's just wrong.)
Drew (to the girls): Stop that!
Merrill and Essie in unison: Stop what?
Drew: Oggling my Pirates.
Merrill: Don't you mean privates?
Andre: Well, when everybody's oggling them they're not that private…
Drew: Quiet you, or I'll withhold sex!
Andre (shocked and horrified): Gasp! You monster!
Drew (boasting): Yeah, well, we Princes of Darkness tend to be evil.
Marty (snickering): Riight. Eeevil.
Drew: I am evil.
Marty: Uh-huh. Sure.
Drew: It's true! On the weekends I go down to the animal shelters and poke the little kitties with big pointy sticks!
Marty (appalled): You-you, vile worm.
Drew (startled): What?
Andre: I don't know if I want to sleep with a cruel bastard like you.
Drew (confused): Huh?
Essie: I wouldn't want to sleep with him either.
Drew (scared now): But-
Dr. Murdoch: You might have to leave the experiment for this Drew; I'll have to consult the Elders (walks off with cobbler)
Drew: Kicked out?
Karl (sniffling): Why would do something like that Drew?
Drew (as everyone turns and walks away): but I didn't- hey!
(Drew sits dejectedly on his coffin all alone)
(Merrill walks up, squeegee in hand)
Merrill (comfortingly): Hi Drew, I've brought you your squeegee.
Drew (looks at her): I'm brooding, not blind. (Resumes brooding)
Merrill (ignoring him): You know I've been thinking…
Drew: brood, brood, brood, brood…
Merrill: And I think that we each have our own personal demons…
Drew: brood, brood, brood, brood
Merrill: So, I just want you to know that I believe you aren't a monster… (Puts a hand on his thigh and sits down next to him)
Drew (struggling to ignore her): brood, brood, brood, gulp, brood…
Merrill (slyly): Say, is that a High Ranking member of the Russian Mafia in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?
Drew (looks at her before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a man): It's a Rusky.
(Merrill harrumphs before stalking away)
(Russian sits down beside Drew on the coffin)
Russian (looking after Merrill): Vell, dat vosn't very nice.