The monologue


What’s my name? Fuck you, that’s my name! You know why, mister? ’cause you drove a Hyundai to get here tonight. I drove a eighty thousand dollar BMW. That’s my name! And your name is “you’re wanting.” And you can’t play in a man’s game. You see this watch? You see this watch? That watch cost more than your car. I made $970,000 last year. How much you make? You see, pal, that’s who I am. And you’re nothing. Nice guy? I don’t give a shit. Good father? Fuck you. My daddy was shot down over Hanoi. This watch was on his wrist. Way he looked at it, this watch was my birthright and he’d be damned if any slopes were gonna put their greasy yellow hands on his boy’s birthright. So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His ass. Five long years, he wore this uncomfortable hunk of metal up his ass until he died of dysentery. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.

6 Responses to “The monologue”

  1. Wait… Hold on, what just happened?

  2. 2 Peter Lynn

    An Oscar-winning performance of Best Supporting Actor just happened.

  3. 3 hilly

    You’re on a roll lately. What’s with the sudden but welcome renaissance of blog posts?

  4. 4 Peter Lynn

    My girlfriend told me I could have opinions again. It won’t last.

  5. 5 jason

    Monologue mash-ups?

  6. 6 hilly

    Ooh, fresh hot opinions straight from the internet! My favorite!

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