THE HANDLER by Joseph Arnone Copyright 2018 MonologueBlogger.com All rights reserved.
INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT sits on the couch with a martini in his hand. His girlfriend is busy making her own. Don't talk to me about Lonnie anymore. Why, what's so wrong about Lonnie? You go on too much about him lately. He's this and he's that. I can really give a shit. (CONT'D) You said I can have friends. (CONT'D) Have friends. I'm not complaining about you having friends. I am only asking for you to stop talking so much about Lonnie. But I don't understand why. Can't I talk to you about what's going on in my life? Of course you can and I want you to, the same way that I share things with you but this Lonnie guy, lately, all you do is talk about him. The guys is getting on my nerves and I haven't even met him yet. Oh stop. He's fine. You don't share things with me anyway, so... I do share things with you all of the time. That's not true. I always have to ask to get anything out of you. You saying I don't talk and make conversation?
2. I'm saying that whenever we see one another and you come back from whatever it is you're doing, you never have anything new to share with me. Oh yeah? Yeah. Okay. Right now I got two dead bodies in the trunk of my car, sitting right in the driveway. Hahaha. Go have a look and we can talk about it. Frisk flips her the keys. Helena stares at Frisk and then leaves. We hear a scream. She comes back. All the while Frisk took over making her drink. Here you go, baby. He hands her the drink, takes his keys back. Sit down. Now we can talk. The two men that are dead in my trunk are two men that owed a friend of mine a load of money. They haven't made good on their debt and this friend of mine, whenever he's in a jam or needs something handled, he calls me up and I handle it for him. I'm what you call the handler, hence my nickname, 'Handles.' (beat) So, tell me more about Lonnie. I had no idea. Hey listen, we've been going together now for two years time. If it's such a shock to you, you can go tell Lonnie about it.
3. Enough about Lonnie! I'm sure Lonnie can write up a song or two about dead guys in a trunk. How about that for a title? Please...I feel sick. Drink your drink. Baby, you can leave right now and we're fine. I know you won't say anything cause you don't have a big mouth but this is what it is so... And what are you going to do with them...the bodies. Feed them to the poor. Frisk chuckles. I'm only kidding. I haven't decided yet. No rush. It's cold outside so the stink won't be as potent tomorrow. I figured let's sleep in, spend some time, we'll talk more since that's what you want and tomorrow I'll take care of it. I knew you were, I mean, I'm not stupid but, I never imagined you would do things in such a way, like this, if--- It's fine. So ask me anything you want. I'll tell you about my work days. No! That's it. That's all I want to know. Are you sure? There's a funny story that happened this past Tuesday with a guys finger.
4. No, no, that's alright, you've...we're okay now. Now that that's out of the way, we can get back to square one. How was your day?