A: Slap me.
H: I just did.
A: Harder.
H: I can’t.
A: Why not?
H: You’re not smiling anymore.
A: Is this a better smile?
H: No.
A: What does a woman have to do to please you?
H: Your smile was not genuine.
A: Fucking hell, Husten. Have you lost the plot recently, or what?
H: Completely.
H: Can I just say?
A: What?
H: Don’t know where your dad got that coke from, but how good is this stuff?
A: It’s because you haven’t had some for a long while.
H: Will you thank him?
A: I will. Now, let’s get on with it.
H: We should do something. Something different. Go out or something. Pub?
A: No, we’re not. We’re coked up, we’re gonna regret it … let’s get on with it … don’t be so ashamed about what you have written.
H: Let’s call Boy.
A: Husten …
H: Ok, ok, sorry, sorry.
A: So, do you wanna continue?
H: Have another line? Me thinks me nose had enough.
A: Husten … don’t play games. I’m losing my patience.
H: Ah, acting out the scene I wrote? Dunno. Where were we?
A: You’re about to slap me. Hard.
H: Shall we start from the beginning again?
A: Whatever it takes.
…
H: (back of my hand raised) … I can’t. … Just wanna kiss you.
A: Fucking muppet.
.
