Encyclopedia Vagina
Scene 1: The Trucker
Dorothy and Sophia are sitting peacefully in the living room. Blanche suddenly strolls in the front door and heaves a powerful sigh. Dorothy looks up from her book and puts it down. Sophia remains oblivious.
Dorothy: What is it honey? You look troubled.
Blanche: No, Dorothy. It's the total opposite. I've fallen in love. And I think this one is the right one after all.
Sophia: What exactly constitutes the "all"? The population of China?
Blanche: Oh, Sophia. I am just too stunned to respond to any of that right now. It's love, I know it.
Blanche puts her hand to her heart and crouches her shoulders. She gently shakes her head and hunkers onto the sofa.
Dorothy: Are you really sure, Blanche? Really, you've said you've fallen in love about a million times. How do you know this one is any different?
Blanche: I just know it, Dorothy. I quiver at the very sight of him. He's so brutish and handsome, with big hands. Big, humungous hands, and you know what that means.
Sophia: Don't go into that fingering story you tell us all the time with that Czech guy at the gas station again, please.
Blanche: Yeah, his fingers can do that to my hoo hoo, but I'm talking about how it corresponds to his, you know...willy.
Dorothy: Willy, willy? Where are we? The shangri-la trailer park?
Blanche: Anyhoo, he's good all around, and I just can't over him. He makes me feel like a girl again.
Sophia: Attempting the impossible. Brave man. Sheesh.
Dorothy: Well tell us, tell us about him. What's his name?
Blanche: His name is Peter, and boy has got a big one.
Sophia: We get it already. I've known a few big peters in my day, but you don't see me advertising it all over like Pamela Anderson.
Dorothy: Is that it? That's the most profound stuff you can tell us about him? What does he do?
Blanche: That part...well...you don't really wanna go into it, k?
Dorothy: It can't be that bad.
Sophia: This is Blanche we're talking about. Need I say more?
Blanche: He...he...he...oh to hell with it! He's a truck driver, but he's a really successful one with refined tastes and everything.
Sophia: What's the big deal? Is a truck driver to lowly for you Queen of Sheba? You've boned everyone from trash men to professional pooper scoopers.
Blanche: Yes, I know, but I can't tarnish my reputation, honey. I know, I'll just call him a professional transportation engineer. That sounds better.
Dorothy: Honey, if it's love, than why do you care about what he does for a living? You should love him unconditionally.
Sophia: You're one to talk. The only reason you got married to Stan was because he knocked you up and got you pregnant.
Dorothy: Huh! I've read a lot of books! Don't judge me!
Blanche: The thing is, he invited me to go on a ride with him in his truck this weekend, a long distance ride. We're gonna drive up to Atlanta so I could show him where I grew up. It's gonna be so romantic. I don't know if y'all know, but a fuck in a truck is real exhilarating'. I hope we go to a truck stop so we can give all the truckies a show.
Sophia: I've never fucked in a truck, but I did fuck in the teacup ride at Disneyland.
Dorothy: Ma, with who?
Sophia: None of your business! I don't kiss and tell like someone over here.
Sophia leaves the room and walks down the hallway. Dorothy sidles over to Blanche on the couch and touches her hand.
Dorothy: Blanche, I'm so happy for you. I hope you have a good time. Where's Rose anyway?
Blanche: Oh, she left early to go put an ad in the paper for a cook. Remember? We were talking about chippin' in and getting' a cook cause we're all getting lazy around here.
Dorothy: I hope they cook Italian food.
Blanche: I don't care about the food, Dorothy. I want a man cook. Don't you know that male chefs are the best men in the bedroom?
Dorothy: I thought you said you were in love.
Blanche: It don't hurt to have some fun on the side. Hee hee.
Blanche get ups and sachets to her bedroom. Dorothy looks in bewilderment, shrugs, and goes back to reading her book.
Scene 2: They're Gonna Do What?
Dorothy is lying in bed reading when Sophia enters her bedroom. Sophia has a remorseful look on her face and sits down on the foot of the bed.
Dorothy: Ma, what are you doing up? It's late.
Sophia: Dorothy, I have something important to tell you, and I don't think you'll be too happy to hear it. I just gonna come out and say it. I owe Vincent Caviallani $50,000, and if I don't give it to him, they're gonna do something bad.
Dorothy: Excuse me? Did my hearing just betray me right now or did I hear you correctly? You owe who $50,000?
Sophia: Vincent Caviallani, you know, that loan shark?
Dorothy: Ma, I don't know what to say. I just don't know what to say. I...I...
Sophia: Say you'll give me the money. Please, Dorothy? I know it was wrong, but I just had to. "Magical Prancer" had such good odds. I know I didn't have the money, but now I have to cough it up.
Dorothy screams frantically.
Dorothy: Where would I get $50,000? I only have $300 in my bank account!
Sophia: About that, I. I used the money off your debit card to bet on some dogs at the race track too. I also charged your credit card another $5,000 cause that's all it would give me. He had such good odds, Dorothy. That stupid dog.
Dorothy screams a piercing cry.
Dorothy: Get the hell out of my room! I don't care what they do to you. You deserve it for what you did.
Sophia: But they'll...they'll hurt me. They'll cut me, Dorothy.
Sophia starts to whimper and cry.
Dorothy: You should have thought about that before you stole from me and bet on some stupid horse!
Sophia walks out of the room crying as Dorothy puts a pillow to her face and screams into it.
Scene 3: The Ride
Blanche sits in the passenger seat of the truck as it careens down a rural highway somewhere in Georgia. Blanche smiles ear-to-ear, as she fidgets in her seat, moving around and ecstatically trembling.
Blanche: I never thought I'd drive shotgun in a truck with such a handsome, debonair gentleman. All this driving is making me excited. Do you wanna do some things?
Blanche throws the trucker a lascivious glance and gently caresses her boobs.
Trucker: Like what?
Blanche: Well, I've done this few times before, you know. You just relax and I'll do all the work.
Blanche undoes the trucker's belt buckle and pulls out his snake. She rubs it back and forth in her hand and leans over to chug it. The trucker pushes Blanche's head down back and forth, increasing in force and stroke. Blanche mumbles indistinctly with the cock in her mouth.
Blanche: Honey, that hurts a little. Be gentler. Honey, you're getting kinda rough. Stop it. Stop it, now! Help! Help! Awww!
The next thing Blanche knows, she is coming to in the storage compartment of the truck. She can't scream because her face has been taped, and she can barely move because she has been hog-tied. The truck continues on the highway, into the night. Soon, the trucker pulls into a truck stop to use the pay phone.
Scene 4: The Cook
Outside of the house, a great line has formed. Dorothy and Rose are interviewing prospective cooks. A thin black woman just leaves the house.
Rose: Geez Louise. This interviewing really tires me out.
Dorothy: (Oblivious) What? Sorry honey. I just can't get over the news that Ma lost so much money. I don't know what they're going to do to her. We might even be in danger.
Rose: Dorothy, if I learned anything about fear, it's that it only affects you if you let it. You know in St. Olaf, our town's most famous candy maker, Ima Goldentwaat, was making a batch of chocolates she said would change the world. Everybody was so excited to see how they would come out, but her brother and her sworn adversary at the candy-making trade, Hiza Goldentwaat, decided one day he would sabotage her. So, he added garstopulfleuven to the candy mixture and everyone in town got scared that they would get the contagious illness it causes: spendalmakuugen. In the end, Ima learned a lesson: Don't underestimate the power of sibling rivalry.
Dorothy: What? What does this have to do with being afraid that the mob is going to kill you in your sleep?
Rose: Uh. Well, you haven't asked me what happened to Ima.
Dorothy: I'd hate to ask, but what?
Rose: She wasn't harmed by the spendalmakuugen. She died of dysentery because she had an adverse reaction to the chocolates.
Dorothy: Rose, darling. That made me feel so much better. HOW DOES THAT HELP ME OUT, YOU IDIOT?!
Rose shrugs her shoulders and smiles dumbly.
Dorothy: I guess we should have the next applicant come in.
Rose: Yeah. NEXT!
A corpulent woman with a huge wart on her cheek ambles in the front door. She thumps down on the chair and wipes the sweat from her forehead with her hand.
Rose: So, what's your name?
Margie: My name is Margie Brumagin. I'm here to apply for the job.
Rose: I guess we don't have to ask if you have any experience in the food business. Ha ha.
Dorothy: What my friend means to say is, have you cooked professionally or at home only?
Margie: I looove to eat! I like to throw together lots of crap! And I'm real good at cooking.
Dorothy: Could you give us some idea, maybe, a sample menu of what you could cook?
Margie: Nachos, deep fried candy bars, deep fried anything, leftovers casserole, tuna-butter salad, 2-day gravied hammocks, triple fried chicken, hamburger pie, grease soup, and for dessert, deep fired ice cream swimming in sugar gravy. Mmm...
Dorothy: Oooh. That sounds...interesting.
Rose: Hmmm. Sounds good to me.
Dorothy: Excuse me. I have to use the bathroom.
Dorothy exits to the bathroom where faint hacking and barfing sounds are heard. Rose and Margie sit in the living room, irresolute. Rose stares fixedly at Margie's amorphous figure. It's huge folds of fat hang nearly down to the floor. A flash of light sparks in Rose's eyes. She simpers a subtle grin and Margie stares at her, unassumingly.
Rose: Can I ask you a question? A personal question?
Margie: Sure.
Rose: Do you really love food that much?
Margie: My body speaks for itself.
Rose: I love food too. Actually, I don't know if this is too straightforward to a stranger, but I think I fantasize about food.
Margie: You got a food fetish.
Rose: A fetish?
Margie: Yeah. I do too.
Rose: Do you ever fantasize about, you know...making love with food.
Margie: Yeah. All the time.
Rose: It's good to talk to someone about it. I never knew that you called it a fetish.
Margie: I could teach you some things...if I get the job that is.
Rose: Oh.
Margie: Yeah. Some really hot things that would make you squeal beyond belief.
Rose: Oo. Yeah?
Margie: Yeah.
Rose: You're hired! Be here tomorrow at three in the afternoon.
Rose and Margie shake hands and Margie slugs out of the house. She winks and slams the door behind her.
Rose: (To herself) Mmm.
Dorothy returns from the bathroom and sits down on the couch. She looks relieved and put-together again.
Dorothy: What happened to Margie?
Rose: She got the job.
Scene 5: Ambush
Sophia is sleeping serenely in her bed. Suddenly, the glass from her window flies all over the room as Vincent Cavialianni jumps in her bedroom.
Cavialianni: Wake up y'old bitch! You're coming with me.
Sophia: Who's that? Oh no. Don't mess with Sophia Petrillo! I got tricks up my sleeve!
Cavialanni: Yeah, and I got some tricks you're gonna play, too!
Vincent Cavialanni goes over to the bed and grapples with Sophia. He punches her in the face and knocks her out. He carries the frail woman over his shoulders out of the window into the night.
Cavialanni drives on the freeway north of Miami to a seedy looking warehouse. He places Sophia in the ground and sits drinking out of a bottle of gin until she awakes.
Cavialanni: Guess you saw this coming.
Sophia: Let me outta here! I wanna go home to my Dorothy. I'll get you your money!
Cavialanni: You'll get my money all right, y'old hag. You're gonna make lots of money.
Sophia: Ugh, what do you mean?
Cavialanni: What do you think? You're gonna pay off your debt you owe me. I'm goin' easy on you by not killing you and your friends. That'd be too easy.
Sophia: What are you talking about?
Cavialanni: I got this little business. The porno business. There's always a demand for granny porn. You're gonna star in it.
Sophia: I've seen a lot in my lifetime, but I don't want you to do me on camera!
Cavialanni: Ha! Don't flatter yourself. I'm not gonna be in it. I'm directin' it. And I'm sure you're just gonna love the other "stars." Hahahahahaha!
Sophia: Please, I'll give you my grandmother's broach. She brought it from Sicily. Beautiful. Take it. It's yours.
Cavialanni: I don't want your fuckin' costume jewelry. I want cold, hard cash. You're gonna make me a fortune.
Sophia: NO!
Scene 6: The Phone Call
Dorothy and Rose are sitting in the living room, munching on peanuts. The phone rings and Dorothy picks up the receiver. She stand up from the couch when she hears the tone of the speaker's voice.
Trucker: It's me. Blanche's beau. I got her. She's tied up. You won't get her back until you give me some dough. I mean, real big. I'm talking $50,000.
Dorothy: Is this a joke? I don't know who this is, probably one of Blanche's old "friends," but you shouldn't be calling like this.
Trucker: I'm not shittin' you. I want money, or Blanche dies.
Rose: Who is it, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Shut up, you turd-brain! Now, if what you say is true, Blanche is all right, right?
Trucker: She's okay. Tied up in my truck. She won't be if I don't get my money.
Dorothy: Okay. Calm down. We'll get you your money. Just tell me where to deliver it.
Trucker: Cody's Rest Stop. 25 miles outside of Atlanta.
Dorothy: Don't hurt her.
Trucker: Be here tomorrow at seven o'clock PM.
Dorothy: I'll be there
Dorothy hangs up the phone and stands transfixed, almost in a catatonic state.
Rose: Is something wrong, Dorothy?
Dorothy: Blanche's boyfriend has taken her hostage, and there's a ransom to get her back.
Rose: What does ransom mean?
Dorothy says nothing and walks down the hallway to her bedroom.
Scene 7: GILFS (Maybe Not...)
Vincent Cavialanni is in his director's chair in front of a cheaply decorated bedroom set with heavy lighting. Sophia is led in at gunpoint by a large mob guy.
Cavialanni: Sit on the bed, bag!
Sophia: Just don't hurt me.
Cavialanni: Bring in Helga!
Helga, a skinny, decrepit old woman, arrives on set in a see-through teddy, licking her lips as she stares down Sophia.
Helga: We're gonna have a lot of fun tonight.
Sophia: Oh no!
Helga: Ready for a carpet munch?
Sophia: NO!
Cavialanni: I want this to look like you really enjoy it, Sophia. Pretend you are gratified like a virgin after a prison rodeo.
Sophia: Or what?
Cavialanni: I'll kill you.
Sophia: Enough said.
Helga goes down on Sophia, tenderly licking the lips of her hairy, saggy vagina. Sophia, obviously disgusted, grins it and bears it with a phony smile. Helga then caresses Sophia's old, floppy udders with her hands. Helga grunts. Helga then forcefully positions Sophia missionary style and inserts a large dildo into her cha-cha.
Sophia: Owwwwwwwwwww!
Helga: I knew you'd like it!
Cavialanni: Is that a print? I didn't watch because...well...obviously.
Assistant: That's a wrap!
Cavialanni: Oh, what a relief it is...
Scene 8: The Barefoot Obesa
Margie is cooking in the kitchen. Rose watches her from the kitchen table, examining her floppy, cottage cheese ass and licking her lips.
Margie: I hope you're ready for somethin' tasty. I'll teach you how to actually "use" it too.
Rose: Oh! How wonderful!
Margie: It's just about done. Let it fry a little more. Than, there'll be lots of time for dessert, rarrr!
Margie runs her hand down her fat rolls, swishing and swooning her porky clump body to the crisping sound of her fried goods.
Rose: Give me some of that!
Margie: You'll get some. Just you wait.
Margie turns off the range and sets a large chicken fried steak down on the table. She cuts it up into tiny little pieces, and glops lard all over it.
Margie: Just you wait. You're gonna have a first-class meal!
Rose: Ooo!
Margie: Let's take this to the bedroom!
Rose: I'm right behind you.
Margie: You're not gonna regret it...
Rose leads Margie down the hallway to her bedroom. She flops down on the bed as Rose starts to disrobe and finger herself. Margie lays the meat on her nipples and beckons Rose to suckle. Rose gobbles them up in one breath, and starts to lick the sauce from the chicken fried steak Margie pours all over her saggy gut and hot-dogs-on-the-grill-about-to-burst legs.
Margie: Is it good?
Rose: Succulent. I'm surprised I know that word.
Margie: Oh. It's so so good, Rose.
Rose: Yeah. Charlie thought I was a loony for wanting to try food in our sex life. He might have been right. All I know is, it feels great!
Margie: Wait until tomorrow! I'll cook you up a deep-fried parsnip. You know what we could do with that?
Rose: Thick. I can only imagine...
Scene 9: The Trade-Off
Dorothy speeds on the interstate north. She crosses the Georgia line a few hours from Miami and stops at the rest stop. She sees a large truck parked next to the main building, gets out of her car, and walks over to the "drop point." There, she see's a tall man, large, broad-shouldered, Harrison Ford-esque. She can't believe that this is the man that has been seeing Blanche. Not the other way around, of course. He was so...handsome. Dorothy felt a tinge in her loins she hadn't experienced for so many years.
Dorothy: So you're Peter?
Trucker: Yeah. That's me. You have the money?
Dorothy: Yes. It's in the trunk of my car.
Trucker: Well, let's go get it then.
Dorothy: Sure, but...do you think you'd be interested in a different proposition?
Trucker: What?
Dorothy: You know...me...you?
Trucker: What? Ewww. You gotta be kiddin'! Blanche was fugly, but you look like gonzo the Muppet on Benzedrine. I'm gonna barf, bitch!
Dorothy: How dare you?
Trucker: Fuck you, bitch. Just give me the money.
Dorothy ambles over to her car and unlocks the trunk. She retrieves a black, leather bag from the trunk
and hands it over to the trucker.
Trucker: Let me count it.
Dorothy: Fine.
The trucker sees stacked bills and smiles. He grapples through the rest of the bag and seems to be satisfied in the half light.
Dorothy: Give me Blanche!
Trucker: Sure.
The trucker walks over to his rig and takes Blanche out of the storage compartment. She is hemming and hawing like a worn-out ox. Dorothy takes her by the shoulders and carries her to the car. She sits her in the front and turns on the air conditioning. Dorothy drives briskfully back to Miami.
Scene 10: Show Down
By the time Blanche enters the house, she is fully conscious. She hobbles over to the couch and sits down, seemingly unaffected. Dorothy lays her keys down on the table, sighing one of exhaustion as she sits down on the chair resting her feet. Just then, Rose and Margie appear from the bedroom, scantily clad, Margie's huge spare tire jiggling in the breeze of the air conditioning.
Dorothy: Rose, what are you doing with Margie this time of night?
Rose: Oh, nothing. We were talking about recipes and were actively trying them out.
Blanche: I bet you were.
Rose: Bye Margie!
Margie exits out the front door, somewhat embarrassed.
Rose: What happened to you, Blanche?
Blanche: I was mislead, abducted, taken hostage, and offered up for a price. Guess I am special after all, huh?
Dorothy: After "all" like Ma said. Not Necessarily.
Rose: How come you act like nothing happened to you?
Blanche: I've been through worse, honey. I haven't told you everything about my sex life, you know.
Rose: Wow. You really must be a human encyclopedia about nympho-related stuff.
Blanche: Yes, I am.
Dorothy: (Under breath) Slut.
Blanche: What, honey?
Dorothy: Oh, nothing. I just drove hours to negotiate a deal with a man who abducted you that could have gone horribly wrong. So, really, I have every right to call you a slut.
Blanche: Point taken.
Rose: Maybe you should stop fucking so many men?
Blanche:...Nah...Where's Sophia?
Rose: I don't know. Probably in bed.
Dorothy: Yeah. For once, you're probably right, Rose. She's probably sound asleep. Let's not disturb her.
Blanche: I never asked you how you came up with the money for me.
Dorothy: It was fake green. Stuff Stanley had printed at the spur of the moment. I suppose he does serve some purpose.
Blanche: Dream on, honey.
Rose: What do you want to do now?
Blanche: I don't know about you, but I'm goin' out to the Rusty Anchor to meet more men.
Dorothy: Blanche, I'd hate to be judgmental, but maybe you really do have a problem.
Rose thinks to herself, furtively eying the women around the room.
Rose: (Thinking to herself) I hope they don't find out about my secret...
The End