(Kim and Adam and Rick are all facing the audience. Kim is clutching her lower abdomen, Adam his sides, and Rick his upper, middle abdomen. In the dark, they begin to moan, as the lights come up. This should be painful moaning, getting louder and louder with the lights. When lights are full, they continue)

Adam: Oh, God.

Kim: Oh, God!

Rick: Oh…golly! This really hurts!

Adam: I'd forgotten how much…

Kim: I've never felt anything like this before…

Rick: So queasy…

Adam: Crampy…

Kim: So queasy-crampy. How long can this go on! Oooww!

Rick: All the while knowing something is festering…

Adam: Something is lingering…

Kim: Something is growing inside of you, and you have no control over it, it's just going to get bigger and bigger…

Rick: Until finally it comes up…(gesturing)

Adam: Moves on…(gesturing)

Kim: Comes out. (gesturing)

(pause)

Rick: What did I…

Adam: What didn't I…

Kim: Who did I…

All: ingest…

Rick: just a few hours ago…

Adam: days ago…

Kim: months ago…

Rick: that got me in this…

All: condition?

Kim: Oh, God, I hope I know the right answer to that one. (smiles coyly)

Rick: I need some Tums.

Adam: A good enema.

Kim: An epidural. (feeling the cramp) Oh GOD! Another…

Rick: wave…

Adam: wave…

Kim: wave. The body is a pretty amazing thing, with this built-in alarm that can shut us down in a second when it wants our attention.

Rick: (to stomach) I get it! No more jalipino peppers with a gordita bean burrito chaser before bed.

Adam: (to stomach) I'll eat more fiber! I promise! See?? (takes a bite out of the script) Roughage!! Roughage!!!

Kim: I'll never use foreign condoms again!

Rick: From time to time, I hear people saying that pain is ennobling, driving us to a higher purity, forcing us through a refining fire for some divine purpose. I just want to walk up to them, kick them in the shins and say—"Feel more noble now, you moron??!!"

Adam: So full of shit. And I should know…

Kim: But like everything else in life, this too will pass.

Adam: Oh, man, I hope so…

Rick: Amen.

Kim: And as soon as its gone, sweet relief, made all the more sweeter by the excruciating pain you've just endured.

Adam: Nothing quite so good as a good, solid evacuation! Like I've always said—for pure, physical pleasure—bad sex, over-rated—a huge ugly dump, under-rated!

Rick: Oooo! I'm gonna throw up! Hey, that's not a bad idea! But vomiting is such a counter-productive process, really. All that trouble getting stuff down there, only to bring it all back up. And although you do get the pleasure of tasting a good meal twice, the potential for busted eyeball vessels, acid-washed teeth, and bathroom-carpet splatter hardly seems worth it.

Kim: What are you two bitching about? So what if you get a couple hours of interrupted sleep or a day or two of tummy-discomfort?? Try NINE MONTHS of steadily getting your organs pushed toward your throat while your lower extremities and genitals slowly disappear under the horizon of the protruding land mass formerly known as your abdomen. Meanwhile, your belly button threatens to replace your dashboard cup holder and you've go hemorrhoids so big, you've decided to name them too! And, as a reward for your patience, you get to force a small child you've never met through an area you previously considered one of your most sensitive. All while a group of strangers watch, shouting indecipherable instructions at you, and commenting on (miming the quotation marks) "the miracle" they're beholding. A miracle with sweat and blood…and pain…(starts to break down) You don't know…you don't know…

Adam: Jeez, Kim. We really weren't competing here.

Kim: (instantly out of it) We weren't??

Rick: No. We're just trying to draw some analogies. You know, some interesting parallel experiences.

Kim: Oh. Well, I can get behind that. So…(patting her stomach) Ow?

Rick: Yeah, (patting his) ow!!

Adam: (getting into it) OW!!!

All: (groan louder and louder, as lights fade)

(Kim pauses for a breath)

Adam and Rick: (big sigh) Ahh! Sweet relief!!

(Lights up full)

Kim: You bastards! I've still got five months.

(Lights out)