Party at Sam’s House
Femfree: Sam I just wanted to say how much we all appreciate the contributions you have made to the victim community and all human beings who suffer. Your generosity is most welcome and…
Samdog: Shutup. Even a common fool could tell that I don’t give a rat’s ass about the victims. Jesus Christ. Why must I be surrounded by frickin’ idiots? Well, I’ll now go on with my childhood story. Where was I? Oh, yes… At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Smotan ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. It’s a practice I maintain to this day. I highly suggest you try it.
Femfree: Perhaps you’ve forgotten Sam, that Theresa and I are females.
Samdog: Females? You mean women?? Do you have to remind me of such things? I hate women! Oh shit. I’m sorry – you’re women, aren’t you? Yes. Well, that’s superfluous really. Damn. I’ve decided to pay you a compliment, Femfree, to make up for my transgression. That I have. I just love your clothes, Femfree. They activate my repressed sexual drive derivatives in quite a titillating manner. Never have I found myself so excited and enthused…
Femfree: Well, thank you, Sammy boy…
Samdog: Ti si moja kucka.
Femfree: What was that, Sam?
Samdog: Oh, forget it. Now, as I was saying before, about narcissism… the transformations of aggression are coagulated in the false self and interact with the idealized prematernal imago to create a synthesis of alternating currents…
Matt: Hey Sammy Boy…
Samdog: transformations of repressed overaggressive…
Matt: Yo SAM!
Samdog: Yes??!! What on earth is this intrusion?
Matt: Listen up, Sammy Boy. And listen carefully: Lumbago. Delicatessen. FOOTLOCKER. I can use big words too, Sammy Boy. You’re not the only one. Since we have so much in common, perhaps you’d allow me to join you at this table?
Samdog: I’m afraid not. We allow only the baddest of the bad here. You’re just not evil enough. You’re semi-evil, quasi-evil. You’re the margarine of evil, the diet coke of evil, just one calorie, not evil enough. I’m sorry.
Matt: You’re sure you wouldn’t like a little company?
Samdog: I’m afraid not. But that’s beside the point. Oh… I suppose you could stay for just five minutes. Say whatever worthless thing it is you have to say. So therefore, I suppose, it is my pleasure to say: greetings, earthling. Welcome to NPD-land.
Femfree: Hem hem. Hem hem. He is NOT allowed to be here.
Samdog: Uh-oh. Now, visitor, I have to tell you something….. when I get angry, Femfree gets upset, and when Femfree gets upset… people die! So I wouldn’t push it if I were you.
Matt: I’m playing it cool, Sam doggy dog.
Samdog: My name does not have “doggy dog” as an appendage on it.
Matt: It’s cool, dog.
Samdog: Damn. He got me again. Oh well. I love to be hated. It’s all good.
Matt: You think you’re too cool for school, don’t you, Mr. Vaknin? You think you’re too good for the rest of the human race. Well I’ve got a newsflash for you, Sam. You’re not.
Samdog: It’s Matt, isn’t it. You little runt. Well, Matt, I’ve got a newsflash for you. I….. am….. your….. father. Hahahahahahahaha. My God. I haven’t laughed that hard since I was a little girl.
Matt: Are you sure you’re ok Mr. Vaknin?
Samdog: Yes, quite sure.
Matt: Well, I’m not quite so sure…
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: Excuse me…
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: I’d like to say…
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: If you’d just…
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: Is there a problem with…
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: Why can’t you…
Samdog: Sh!!! … Knock knock…
Matt: Who’s there?
Samdog: Sh!!!
Matt: Sam…
Samdog: Let me tell you a little story about a man named Sh!!!
Samdog: Sh!!! even before you start. That was a preemptive Sh!!!
Matt: Well, ok…
Samdog: Sh!!! I have a whole bag full of Sh!!! with your name on it.
Matt: I give up.
Samdog: What?? Don’t just stand there like that… staring at me like I’m frickin’ Frankenstein. Come and give your father a hug!
Matt: You stay well away from me, you crazy-eyed psycho.
Samdog: Hug, hug, hug!
Matt: Talk to the hand, ‘cause the face don’t wanna hear it anymore.
Samdog: Oh fine. As my adopted son, perhaps you do deserve a small degree of welcome.
Femfreey: Hem hem! I think not!
Samdog: Just ignore it… Her. I’m about to present to you my plan for complete world domination.
Matt: Sounds… interesting.
Samdog: You see, we’ve turned the moon into what I like to call a “Death Star.”
Matt: Hehehe.
Samdog: What was that?
Matt: Oh, nothing Darth.
Samdog: On the moon, we’ve got this ingenious apparatus that I like to call a “Lay-zer.” And when we’ve got this “Lay-zer” we’re going to hold the U.S. government up for the grand sum of….. one billion dollars. The idea of those Americans and their pusillanimous litigious minds being forced to pay up, it just makes my thigh muscles vibrate in just the right way. Oh, yes, yes it does.
Femmy: But why hold the world up for a billion dollars, Sam, when we could hold the world up for……… one million dollars?
Samdog: Arghhh!!!!! Now why didn’t I think of that? Good idea, femfree. Great idea, in fact. If I may say so. And I just did. So I guess that means I was allowed to say so. In any case…
Matt: Where do I fit into this picture then?
Sam: You don’t.
Matt: But I’m your son!
Sam: Unfortunately, or fortunately as the case may be, I've already had someone created in my image. He's evil, he wants to take over the world, and he fits easily into most overhead storage bins. Beat that.
Matt: Damn. What’s his name?
Sam: Its name is the Vaksinator T-1000. It walks like me, talks like me, and it’s only one-eighth my size. And it’s a eunuch, just like me.
Matt: A what?
Sam: Oh shut up. I’m tired of you, already. Fifteen minutes with another human being and it’s already too much. Get out, get out, get out…. The party’s over.
Matt: But you just said…
Sam: Zipit!
Matt: I was going to…
Sam: Zipit!
Matt: But why not…
Sam: A Zip. A Zop. A Zip-It to the Zip-It.
Matt: Could you please…
Sam: Da mi brichish petelo – subtitle: Zip it.
Matt: Sam…
Sam: Would you like to have a suckle of my zipple?
Matt: No thank you. And good night.
