(The lights come up on BOB, who is looking at himself in the mirror. He speaks to the audience.)
BOB: Well, here we go. Another one. I hate zits. I hate them! But they like me, they keep coming back. At least somebody likes you, Bob. The reason I have so many zits is ’cause my head’s too big. So much skin, they can’t resist it. Oh, God, look at this one. I gotta squeeze it, gotta squeeze it—no stop! Don’t, it’ll just get huge and red and infected and ooze yellow pus—I’m gonna cut my fingers off! It’s the only way not to squeeeeeze.
(BOB stands on his hands. Bob’s DAD is heard, off.)
DAD: Bobby!
(BOB freezes, indicates that the audience should remain quiet.)
Bobby, have you seen the TV guide?
MOM: Your stupid TV guide’s on top of your stupid TV!
(BOB listens. Pause. BOB exhales.)
BOB: Most people I know don’t have these problems. Take my friend Maggie, for example. Her life is perfect.
(Lights on MAGGIE, who drags herself out of bed.)
She has all this energy, practically runs the school, gets all A’s and she’s in incredible physical condition.
(MAGGIE steps on the scale, sees the weight and grimaces.)
It’s because of her completely positive attitude, I guess.
(MAGGIE steps off the scale, removes her slippers, steps back on the scale, looks hopefully at the result.)
Nothing ever gets her down.
(MAGGIE sees the weight and sadly shakes her head.)
She is a bit of a hippie, though. She’s always trying to get me to join one of her environmental or political groups. She’s real peace and love.
(MAGGIE quickly does some martial arts moves, a series of deadly punches.)
You know what I mean? But I figure, whatever makes you happy.
(Satisfied, MAGGIE steps back on the scale, checking the result. She sighs, defeated, and faces the mirror. As BOB puts a bandaid on his zit...
