copyright © 2002 Howard Zimmerle

Little Miss “Too Good to Eat Her Own Feces”

(scene opens w/ Howard and Girl getting frisky on a couch)

Howard: God I love college. Here I am making out with a girl on the couch my parents had when I was a kid.

Girl: What can I say, it’s a nice couch.

Howard: That’s why I wanted it in my apartment. There’s actually a great story about when my dad bought this many years ago. The store was asking, like, $100 for it. He was trying to talk them down, and the saleslady said “Sir, this is a very reasonable price for an Ethan Allen couch!”. He said something to the effect that he didn’t care if it was an Ethan Allen, a Woody Allen, or a Marcus Allen... $100 was still too much for this couch. Turns out he only paid $75 for it.

Girl: Good story. Tell that one at parties.

Howard: I thought it was an amusing anecdote from my childhood.

Girl: (starts laughing)

Howard: Oh, and you’re laughing now... what the hell?

Girl: OK, I’ve never told anyone this before, but for the longest time when I was a kid I thought “childhood” meant my vagina. Serious. I had always heard my mom referring to hers as her “womanhood”, and I had heard the word “childhood” before, so I figured since Mom was a woman and I was a child... therefore vagina equaled childhood!

Howard: Holy shit! When did you learn that you were wrong?

Girl: 9th grade. I had to write a paper about “someone who touched your childhood.” It was a little awkward. I know, it was no Woody Allen story. See, mine was funny.

Howard: You’re a Woody Allen story.

Girl: God you’re a dork!

Howard: And you’re dating me... what does that say about you? I’m hungry. Want a hot dog?

Girl: You’re a hot dog.

Howard: How come it wasn’t funny when I said it, but it’s supposed to be funny when you do?

Girl: Cause I’m cuter than you.

Howard: Something like that. Well, I’m making myself some food. Want a hot dog?

Girl: I thought we were being... ummm... intimate.

Howard: Yeah, but I have to eat first.

Girl: Come on... I’ll let you touch my childhood!

Howard: Ha, ha, ha. I’m hungry though, and I’m making some hot dogs. Want one?

Girl: Now way. Eeew. Hot dogs are disgusting. Do you know what they put into them?

Howard: So you’re saying you don’t eat hot dogs.

Girl: Not in like, 10 years. I flat out refuse.

Howard: Under any circumstances?

Girl: Yep.

Howard: What if the choice was to eat a hot dog or starve to death?

Girl: Under those extremely unlikely circumstances, then I guess I would. But it wouldn’t happen though. It would be like eating my own shit.

Howard: Would you do that? Would you eat your own fecal matter in order to survive?

Girl: Hell no!

Howard: I don’t think you’re thinking this through enough. Everyone else in the world is dead except you and some guy. You have to procreate to maintain the human race. However, you can only get the energy to do so by eating your own feces. Do you do it?

Girl: No. The human race isn’t worth that. Look what crap we’ve done in the past few billion years. The world is better without humans.

Howard: OK Little Miss “Too Good to Eat Her Own Feces.” It’s time to play hardball. Let’s say the only remaining people are you and another good-looking, suave, debonair, intelligent person, only this one is male. Your offspring could overcome the mistakes made by our ancestors. This would be the chance for the human race to completely rebuild, and do so on your watch no less. Are you prepared to tell hundreds of past generations and achievements that you are throwing it all away because you’re too good to eat something that came out of your own body? Are you that selfish? Are you that foolhardy? Are you that scared of...

Girl: (interrupting) OK, OK, I would eat my own feces! Are you happy?

Howard: Eeew! You would eat your own shit? Gross! And to think I almost made out with you!



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