AT RISE: In total darkness we hear giggling and keys rattling. A door opens and we see the silhouettes of Sarah and Mark stumble through in mid make out. They might fall or stumble over some furniture.
MARK: (Laughing) Let me turn on a light.
SARAH: No. Not yet.
(Things get quiet. We hear a Zipper going down.)
MARK: (Taking a breath) Oh wow. Sarah…
SARAH: Shhhh. Just enjoy the ride.
(We hear the sounds of pleasure coming from both of them. More from Mark. Mark’s moans of pleasure start to turn to moans of discomfort.)
SARAH: Are you all right?
MARK: Something’s not right.
SARAH: Too much teeth?
(Mark fumbles for the lamp. The lights come on and we see that they are both dressed nicely, for a night out. Mark is zipping up his pants. His pain and her panic will increase throughout the following.)
MARK: No, my face. It feels like it’s on fire. And itching.
(He is scratching.)
SARAH: Oh yeah, it looks like you’ve got some red blotches on your neck.
MARK: Oh no.
SARAH: What? What is it?
MARK: I think I’m having an allergic reaction.
SARAH: To what? To me?
SARAH: Is this bad? Do you need to go to the hospital?
MARK: Depends on what it isth. Oh sthit. My tongue’s stharting to swell.
(Mark is now beginning to feel it in his crotch.)
MARK: Oh! Oh wow. Thisth can’t be good.
SARAH: What now?
(Mark turns his back and unzips his pants.)
MARK: I think it’s swelling.
SARAH: Well, couldn’t that be because I was…
MARK: Not that kind of swelling. Oh no! More red blotches! Did you useth hand crème today?
SARAH: Yeah. Earlier.
MARK: What kind?
SARAH: Ponds.
MARK: Was it sthented with anything? Vanilla? Peacheth?
SARAH: No. No, I always use the unscented kind.
MARK: Your lip gloss.
SARAH: What about it?
MARK: What kind?
SARAH: Lip Venom.
MARK: What’s it made of?
SARAH: It’s cinnamon and ginger spices…
MARK: Thinnamon! It’s the thinnamon! I’m fucking allergic to thinnamon!
(Mark’s is having trouble breathing.)
MARK: I think my throat is closthing up.
SARAH: I’m calling 911.
MARK: I can’t go to the hosthpital becausth of swelling in my dick.
SARAH: But if you’re going to die…
MARK: I justht need sthome benedryll.
SARAH: Do you have a bee sting kit?
MARK: I’m not allergic to beesth!
SARAH: Well, do you have a…cinnamon…sting kit?
MARK: What?
MARK: It’th never been this bad before.
(She goes into the kitchen and comes back out with a wet dish towel.)
MARK: You can’t justht wash it off.
SARAH: I don’t know what else to do.
(His breathing is becoming more labored.)
MARK: I justht need to sthit down for a minute.
(He sits on the couch, wheezing.)
SARAH: I think we need to get you to a hospital.
MARK: (Getting woozy)No, no, no. No hosthpitalsth. Maybe thisth will passth.
(With that he passes out.)
SARAH: Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
(She lightly taps his face, trying to rouse him.)
SARAH: Mark! Wake up! Please!
(She freezes.)
(She begins to frantically shake him, slapping him harder on the face.)
SARAH: Wake up! Wake up, you allergenic pussy!
(She crams the wet towel onto his face, pushing into his mouth.)
SARAH: I am not a murderess!!!
(The thrashing rolls them off onto the floor. The jolt brings Sarah to her senses.)
SARAH: Oh, God. I’m sorry.
(She cradles his head and wipes him with the towel. Mark starts to come around.)
SARAH: Yeah, that’s it. Come back to me. Come back.
MARK: (Weakly) Stharah? Isth that you?
SARAH: I’m right here, Mark.
MARK: I think I’m stharting to feel sthlightly better. Maybe the towel wasth the way to go.
SARAH:You’re alive. I’m so happy you’re alive!
(Sarah, in her excitement, bends over and kisses Mark on the lips.)
MARK: Noooo!
BLACKOUT OUT