The Four Year Hole — Beginning of Scene 2

- That is if anyone’s still reading:

Scene 2

It’s about 9:00 at night and time for the party to “officially” start, even though few people will show up before 9:15 or 9:30. A blacklight has been turned on to give the party some ambiance and enhance the effectiveness of beer goggles. There are now two huge blue Tupperware bins in the near right corner of the stage in front of the wicker chair, which hold about 40 Keystone’s each after the ice has been dumped in. Bottles of Jaegermeister, Jose Cuervo, Captain Morgan’s, Three Olives, Smirnoff Raspberry Vodka, Jim Beam, an assortment of mixers, and about a hundred red solo cups line the bar. Luke is now dressed in a wife beater and jeans, drinking on the couch. Colin walks in wearing what he wore earlier and heads for the fridge and grabs a beer 

Colin [grabbing a beer]: Have you moved since I left?

Luke: Nope.

Colin [Heading over to the couch]: You’re truly an inspiration.

Luke: I do what I can.

Friedman comes out from his bedroom at the end of the hallway straining to carry a large turntable in front of him. He walks over to the bar and places it at the only available space on the far left end. He is also dressed in a wife beater and jeans.

Colin: Oh God. Could we have just one party that doesn’t have the decibel level of the front row at a Ted Nugent concert?

Friedman: Don’t be such a pussy. What’s a party without music loud enough to drown out all the awkward conversation?

Colin: Here’s an idea. How about we really stick to the white trash theme and pretend we can’t afford four thousand dollar stereo systems that make the windows rattle?

Friedman [pulling speakers out from behind the bars]: Dude, all white trash trailers have this shit in ‘em.

Colin: When have you ever been in a trailer park?

Friedman: I haven’t, but I know those guys have ‘em.

Luke: How do you know that?

Friedman: I’ve seen 8 mile. I know what’s goin’ down.

Colin: The extent of your sheltered existence never ceases to amaze me.

Friedman: Hey man, I lived right next to the ghetto.

Luke: You did not, you trust fund motherfucker.

Friedman: How do you know that?

Colin: Because you live in a brownstone on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, that’s how. Maybe you can see Spanish Harlem from the top of your building, but that’s not living “right next to the ghetto.”

Friedman: No man, I do. The Barrio is, like, 10 streets up from my house.

Colin: Yeah, and you live two houses down from Katie Couric.

Luke: Seriously? 

Friedman: Both of you guys shut up. I’ve got to finish setting up the speakers.

Luke: How do you know Friedman lives next to Katie Couric?

Colin: He let me stay with him in Carnegie Hill last year when I didn’t feel like having Thanksgiving with my Mom and Brad.

Luke: The step-dad?

Colin: Hardly, the man’s 7 years older than me. It’s like my Mom’s married to an older brother I never wanted.

Luke: Sorry for bringing it up…Hey, I thought you said he lived in the Upper East Side?

Colin: Carnegie Hill is on the Upper East Side. It’s just a neighborhood of ritzy, overpriced boutiques and townhouses. If you walk the streets wearing anything less than Armani or Vera Wang a cadre of riot cops bludgeon you to death.

Luke: How’d you make it through the week without getting the piss kicked out of you?

Colin: Friedman’s family gave me a black suit and I was the family’s chauffeur over the holidays.

Luke: Really?

Colin: Yes, Luke. And after I finished driving them to Saks I drove back to their street and made sweet love to Katie Couric in the back seat of her limo.

Luke: You are so full of shit.

Colin: I’m just brimming with it.

There is a loud series of knocks on the door. Colin gets up from the wicker chair, but instead of going over to open the door he goes to the far left side of the couch and sits down. 

Friedman [to Colin]: Aren’t you going to get that?

Colin: No, I really don’t think I am. As a matter of fact, I have no plans that extend beyond going to the fridge to wet my whistle.

Friedman: You’re an ass.

Colin: I’ve been worse.

There is now violent knocking coming from outside the dorm. Friedman jaunts over towards the door to let in the guests.

Friedman: Coming!

Friedman opens the door and a stream of five people come into the room, led by Kirsten who gives Friedman an overzealous hug and a kiss upon entering. With her are two other freshman girls, a freshman guy, and a younger looking girl meekly bringing up the rear. All the freshman girls are dressed in tight white shirts and daisy dukes, the freshman guy is in a wife beater with jeans, and the younger girl is wearing jeans and a maroon v-neck t-shirt.

Friedman [to Kirsten]: Hey there. Who are your friends?

Kirsten: Well, [pointing to the taller, blonde girl] this is Beth.

Beth: Hey guys

Friedman and Luke: Hey.

Kirsten [pointing to a shorter, redhead]: This is Claire.

Claire: Hi

Friedman: Hi Claire.

Luke: What’s crackin?

Kirsten: This is Tyler

Tyler: Hey.

Friedman: Hey.

Beth [pointing to the girl in back]: And this is my sister Jess.

Friedman: Nice to meet you Jess.

Colin: What is this, day care?

Kirsten: Jess is old enough to take care of herself. She’s a senior in high school and she’s just checking out Skidmore to see if she likes it.

Colin: Let me put the poor girl out of her misery. [to Jess] You won’t like Skidmore.

Kirsten: Shut the fuck up Colin!

Colin: [Staring down the bottleneck of his now empty beer]: Yes ma’am. Anyhow, I can feel my BAC reaching a dangerously low level, so I’m going to get another beer.

Colin gets up off the couch and heads back to the fridge.

Friedman: That’s actually a really good idea. Would any of you like a drink?

Kirsten: I would love one.

Friedman: Well, alright then.

Kirsten walks with Friedman over to the bar with the rest of the guests following behind in single file. Colin has already opened up another beer and grabs another one for Luke before walking back over to the couch. Colin hands Luke the beer and sits down on the right side of the couch. During the following conversation Friedman can be seen frantically pouring drinks for the girls. 

Luke: Thanks, man. By the way, I call dibs one the hot one.

Colin: Which one’s the hot one?

Luke: The redhead.

Colin: Ok, then you have “dibs” on the redhead.

Luke: Good deal. You can totally have first go at the blonde chick or the sister.

Colin: Christ, man. The girl’s probably not even eighteen yet.

Luke: So?

Colin: What do you mean so? I really don’t feel like spending five years upstate for one night of drunken and wholly unsatisfying sex with a minor.

Luke: So you’re going to fuck the blonde chick.

Colin: You know, there are some of us in this world who are capable of keeping their libidos in check for a period of more than 24 hours.

Luke: So, you’re not going to fuck the blonde chick?

Colin: No, Luke. I’m not going to fuck the blonde chick. There isn’t enough whiskey in Ireland to get me to fuck the blonde chick and from here on out I’m going to be calling her…wait a minute…[turning back to the bar]…Hey! Kirsten, what’s the name of your blonde friend over there?

Kirsten: Her name’s Beth.

Colin: Thank you…[turning back to Luke]…from now on I’ll be referring to her as Beth and not “the blonde chick,” because that’s just a tad too misogynistic for my tastes.

Luke: You’re a fucking queer.

Colin: Because I want to be courteous and call a woman by her first name instead of by her hair color?

Luke: It’s not that. I don’t give a flying fuck what you call her. You’re a fag because you never sleep with chicks.

Colin: That is not true. I have every intention of getting some sweet, sweet loving from a pretty little lady tonight.

Luke: When’s she coming over?

Colin: She’s already here.

Luke: Wait a minute. If I’ve got the redhead, you don’t want the blonde chick, and you don’t want to sleep with Kirsten’s sister, then…Holy Shit, man! You’re one two-timing son of a bitch.

Colin: What can I say?

Luke: Man, Friedman’s gonna freak when he finds out you’re sleeping with Kirsten.

Colin: Who said I’m sleeping with Kirsten?

Luke: Well, she’s the only one left for you to sleep with.

Colin: Not so my friend. I’ve got her stashed away in the pantry.
Luke: The pantry?

Colin: Yes sir. After I get a couple more beers in me I’m gonna go back there and get busy with Mrs. Butterworth.

Luke: You’re going to fuck a bottle of maple syrup?

Colin: Hey! Just because she’s an inanimate object doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings. She’s very giving and the syrup works as a fantastic lubricant. Plus, I’ve always had a thing for dark-tinted women.

Luke: You are a sick fuck.

Colin: Why, thank you.

Friedman: [screaming]: JAEGER-SHOTS!!!

All the freshmen and Friedman let out a big “WHOOOO!” and pound back a shot of Jaegermeister. Luke, upon hearing the cry for Jaeger, jumps over the couch and runs over to the bar.

Luke: What the shit is this?!

Friedman: What?

Luke: Starting Jaeger-shots without me?

Friedman: Sorry, man.

Luke: You’re damn right you’re sorry. [looking at Tyler] And you let the frosh faggot have some?!

Tyler: I’m not a fag you fucking queermo!

Luke: What the fuck did you just call me?

Colin: [picking up a magazine from the table] I believe the word, and I use that term loosely, was “queermo,”

Friedman [to Tyler]: Why don’t you go get a beer from the cooler.

Tyler [staring down Luke]: What?! I’m supposed to be scared of this cocksucker?

Colin: Kid, do you value your life?

Tyler: What kind of a question is that?

Colin: A very pertinent one, because you’re about one homoerotic insult away from having your lungs punctured. 

Tyler: What’s he gonna do? Stab me?

Colin: Nope. Doesn’t need to. When he busts up your rib cage bad enough one of the ribs will eventually poke a hole in ‘em.

Tyler: He can’t really do that? Can he?

[everyone remains silent for a few seconds]

Friedman: Will you just get the fucking beer already?

Tyler walks over to the cooler up right and grabs a beer.

Colin: I’m proud of you Luke-boy. [to Tyler] You’re one lucky son of a bitch. If you did that a year ago you’d be in an iron lung. But, ever since D-III schools started testing for ‘roids, our friend Luke here’s been a bit mellower.

Luke: Fuck off Colin. I never used that shit.

Colin: I know, I know. All that back-nee and the mood swings were because of those wicked shellfish allergies.

Friedman: How ‘bout we all do another shot.

Kirsten: Who wants JAEGER-SHOTS!

Colin: Fuck. I don’t mind you children drinking our liquor and all, but could you do it without shrieking like a goddamn banshee before every shot?

Kirsten: What flew up your ass?

Colin: A proctoscope.

Kirsten: A what? 

Colin: A proctoscope. My physician was in the middle of an examination when he found out I didn’t have the cash on me for my co-pay, so he just left the damn thing in there.

Kirsten: You’re disgusting.

Colin: Not at all. Routinely visiting a proctologist is necessary to ensure sound rectal hygiene. 

Luke: Just finish pouring the shots already Friedman. I don’t know how much longer I can hear Colin talk about his ass.

Colin: Honestly, I could go on all night.

Friedman: Done. Drink up everybody.

Everyone by the bar downs a shot of Jaeger and Friedman begins passing out drinks.

Friedman: Okay now…We’ve got two gin and juices; one for Beth and one for Claire.

Beth & Claire: Thanks.

Friedman: For the lovely Kirsten we have a Raspberry Vodka with Sprite.

Kirsten: Hold on…did you make my drink with that? [she points towards the bottle of Three Olives]

Friedman: Yeah. Is something wrong?

Kirsten: I don’t drink that penny-pinching Three Olives crap. I only drink Stoli.

Colin: What the fuck are you talking about? The entire point of those flavored vodkas is to mask the taste of the alcohol so you can’t even tell that it’s vodka you’re drinking.

Luke: Plus, you’re mixing it with Sprite.

Kirsten: So, what’s your point?

Colin: Never mind…How about this: If you can actually spell Stolichnaya for me, I’ll go to the liquor store right now and get you a bottle myself.

Kirsten: Bite my ass, Colin! 

Friedman: Woah, everybody calm down. Kirsten, I’ll just give your drink to Jess and we can get you a new drink.

Kirsten: Fine…I’ll just have a rum and coke.

Colin: Haven’t you had enough coke today?

Kirsten: FUCK OFF!

Friedman: [to Colin] Shut up, man. [to Kirsten] Kirsten, why don’t you go back into my bedroom while I make your drink, and we’ll chill out together for a bit, okay?

Kirsten: Alright. Just as long as I don’t have to stay out here with this asshole any longer. [Kirsten leans over and kisses Friedman, then turns towards Beth and Claire] Watch my sister while I’m gone.

Colin: Hold up, so she’s old enough to drink, but she needs to have a babysitter around when you’re gone?

Kirsten: AAAAHHHHH!!!!

[Kirsten storms off to Friedman’s bedroom. Luke, Beth, and Claire circle around and sit down on the couch while Friedman is frantically trying to get Kirsten’s drink ready].

Friedman: Why do you have to be so confrontational all the time?
Colin: Because you insist on bringing Ugg-boot wearing space cases to the dorm all the time. [to Jess] No offense.

Friedman: [putting ice in the rum and diet coke]: You’re just getting all pissy because for once I’ve found a woman that actually makes me happy and you’re stuck here twiddling your dick.

Colin: That’s some saccharine-covered happiness you got going there Friedman.

Friedman: [walking towards his room]: I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure it’s bullshit, so I’m gonna go check on Kirsten.

[Friedman retreats back into his bedroom]