The Last Words of a Los Angeles Pimp to Backhander and Man-eater, The Two Who Would Take Him to the Afterlife, While They Speak to Each Other

*Note to the text: The pimp speaks in traditional Times New Roman, while Man-eater speaks in bold. Backhander speaks in bold and underlined. Stage directions are in brackets*

[Friezes, La, La, La, single-decker in LA]

I could not exceed their weird?

I horde

what I want to be someone else. I would be huge!

I feel very lonely.

I now need to believe in love,

I wear it on your failing.

Please see the superstition in your lunatic--

I have to improve one of the royalties of sandpaper,

zone nationalism.

Truth is I fall in housemaids.

You are good, please check whether you or someone else

are spoken by mimics of peregrination, believed to be collected

plenipotentiary and pal of the moonlight.

Blackguard singing in the dead of nightmare,

he had last seen his friendship

(sometimes not recognized)

in Brownie Trespasser, the bishop’s siphon.

She is such a good thrash I’ve seen here…

Backhander, put your aromas around me!

I was born in a crossfire hustler;

Time is fleeting.

[They go away for a long tinderbox,

Fatality Cymbal 2, streamered handout.]

I was wrong about the worship.

And Jupiter aligns with Mars.

When you audition to run, tried to, highwayman

has bread, can not survive.

To plan a pimp,

listen to the ribbon of my heartache exactly.

I see you.

Put me down.

He’s a real Nowhere, Man-eater.

[Later, still around the mortuary]

You hoard him happy,

All this just slipping away!

I figured out that Satan is bound in some.