A Man and His Mole; Descent into Superstardom: Three Six-Line Scenes
by Aaron Abrams
SCENE 1: NOT YET A SUPERSTAR
(A cave, in a small village)
HORNY SPANISH DUDE: Baby, I'm gonna smack my cockbat all over your pinata ass until all the candy comes falling out and the kids are scrambling for that crazy-delicious ass candy.
HIDEOUS LITTLE MONSTER: Bah. You will never seduce a woman with lines like that. I don't even know what ass candy is. No, wait, is it? No... Anyhoo, you must appeal to all her senses, my student. I must teach you to sing. Then you must learn to sing to her heart as well as her ears. You must caress her both outside and inside.
HORNY SPANISH DUDE: You mean like workin' the boobs and urethra?
HIDEOUS LITTLE MONSTER: Bah! You will never grow into a Latin-Heartthrob-Superstarloverman without me! Yet I am so hideous. I possess all the talent, all the poetry, and you... possess the genes. How unfair of life to deal me this hand. You; the Jack of Hearts and Me; the King of Hideous Little Monsters.
HORNY SPANISH DUDE: I want to sing in the way that makes pants stinkysoggy. I want to have boobs touching my every finger. And one on my bum. That equals eleven. Eleven boobs. Please tiny hairy monster, I need your help. I will always keep you by me my little hideous friend. Always lurking in the shadows. Always telling me right from wrong. And I will place you right here, under my right eye.
HIDEOUS LITTLE MONSTER: And I will make you a superstar, Enrique Iglesias.
SCENE 2: NO LONGER HUMAN
(The mansion of a superstar, at the height of his power)
ENRIQUE'S FACE MOLE: I deserve better than this, to be locked in shadows, cropped from the photo on your last album cover! I have been beside you during the hard times, when you were masturbating to your father's castaways. And the good times, when you would have sex with your father's castaways. I'm the one who told you to wear that little beanie hat. And all the beads and shit. I've given you more than you've ever dreamed of! I give you a world of boob and you have repaid with me the ass candy that is 'shame.' And your candy? It's sour. Your ass candy is sour, Mr. Iglesias.
SHANNON ELIZABETH: What was that?
ENRIQUE: Not my face mole.
ANNA KOURNIKOVA: What mole? You have a blemish? Fuck this shit. We're outta here. Pass me my camel-toe bicycle short things.
(The ecstasy orgy is halted. The ladies grab their shit and begin to leave)
ENRIQUE: Wait! Listen. (Pause. He licks his lips) I could be your hero... babies.
(All the beautiful ladies stop in their tracks. Then they slowly return to him. And bow down.)
JENNIFER LOVE HEWITT: Here is my tongue. Do with it what you wish.
(The Face Mole remains tortured in the shadows and writes some poetry. Enrique choses to place Jennifer Love-Hewitt's tongue squarely on his bum)
SCENE 3: THE JOKE OF IT
(In a small dank bar at the edge of Hollywood. Little hideous creatures are weeping softly into their beers)
ENRIQUE'S FACE MOLE: The world has no place for us, my fellow imperfections.
TOM SELLECK'S MOUSTACHE: We, who are recognizable staples yet unfashionable eyesores.
BURT REYNOLDS'S BALDNESS and KEVIN SPACEY'S HOMOSEXUALITY: We, who are hidden from light and covered by shame.
JENNIFER LOPEZ'S FAT ASS: We, who are current, quirky, attractive features, but who, at age 42, will look like two pillowcases filled with rainsoaked cookie dough and waterchestnuts.
ENRIQUE'S FACE MOLE: We, who make them human and create their success, and who they condemn to darkness once they are superstars.
ELVIS'S BLOATED, DRUG-FILLED BELLY (wearing a party hat): Aw, c'mon and smile fellas, the Joke's on them. Nobody really cares about these fucking people. Let's do some shots. Pass the mayonnaise.
