SVEN: I met someone else.
LARISSA: What? Who?
SVEN: [Sven is a nerd: black turtleneck, utility belt, rimless specs. “Stage crew.“] You.
LARISSA: [Curtains descending at every level within her] What?
SVEN: You. I met you.
LARISSA: Someone… else?
LARISSA: But it’s me?
LARISSA: Is that… OK?
SVEN: You tell me. [Farts silently]
LARISSA: It’s not OK.
SVEN: Why not?
LARISSA: I’m the only one.
SVEN: I know.
LARISSA: But you met someone else.
SVEN: [Nods like a concrete skate park. 🙁 ]
LARISSA: And that someone else is me. And somehow this contradiction is supposed to turn me on?
SVEN: It’s not supposed to do anything. It’s just a vegetable, in your refrigerator, going bad slowly.
LARISSA: Is that a metaphor for what you just said?
SVEN: I don’t know. Maybe it’s a simile. It’s definitely figurative language.
LARISSA: I really wish this was more interesting.
SVEN: Why? So that when you remember it years later you’ll be entertained?
LARISSA: No, so that I could be entertained right now. Instead, I feel sort of upset.
SVEN: Maybe it’s because you love me.
LARISSA: That’s not why I’m annoyed by this spooky bullshit.
SVEN: Well, I love you, too.
LARISSA: Maybe you should smoke some more pot, you’re acting terrible.
SVEN: OK. [He take a colossal bong ripper. The smoke, as he exhales, curls into ancient fortresses and other cool designs.]