A Few Hitches

Tuesday

## Tuesday
[Tony's Auto Garage. 5:30PM. Louis sits on the desk, swinging his legs back and forth. Harry's struggling to keep the hood propped up.]

LOUIS: "I got my cookie, by the way. I ate it too. It was a nice cookie, it was a pleasant cookie... it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." (Waits for a response, continues anyway.) "Mostly best because cookies are pleasant to be around."

HARRY: "Quit talking."

LOUIS: (Gesturing to Harry.) "You, on the other hand." (Harry shakes his head and continues working. Louis takes a gander of the place.) "Speaking of cookies, could you get me one now?" (waves it off immediately.) "Nope, never mind. Don't answer that. You're mean. Mean people don't have cookies. Except for that witch in that book—the one who turned out to be a cannibal? Although she wasn't exactly a cannibal, since the kids weren't other witches."

[Silence ensues. Harry's focused on the car. Louis sighs loudly, bored.]

LOUIS: "Nice people give you cookies. Cookies make you happy. Happy people don't just shoot their husbands." (Harry turns for a second and squints at him.) "They just don't."

HARRY: (Facing the car again.) "You really like cookies, don't you?"

LOUIS: "Mhmm. Whenever I'm pissed or annoyed, someone gets me a cookie, and suddenly the world is at peace again. Not actual peace though, since people keep campaigning about bringing 'world peace' all the time. Personally, I don't care about politics, which is odd because mayor's son. It's like," (Pauses, licks his lip in thought.) "It's like that book you have lying around in your closet that you don't really plan on reading... but it's nice to pretend you are, eventually."

HARRY: (Uninterested.) "You talk a lot."

LOUIS: "I do. I love talking. I like conversation more though, but given that you have your whole," (Gestures to Harry and the car.) "Process or whatever, which requires total monk-like silence, I don't think conversation's up for discussion. Look, I made a pun. I'm so funny." (Smiling to himself. Notices Harry's in another world. Groans in frustration.) "Talk or I'll throw a wrench at you and pretend it was that stray cat that's roaming around."

HARRY: "He's not a stray, he's Tony's. And he likes me way too much to throw a wrench at me." (Afterthought.) "That, and he doesn't have thumbs, so."

LOUIS: (Staring at the cat walking around near his feet.) "Cats are like politicians. They're just there, whining about stuff, having sex and sleeping."

HARRY: "David Tomlinson's son, everybody." (Hood unhinges and falls on his head, hard.) "Fuck—ow!"

LOUIS: "Shit—" (Gets up from the desk, rushes over to Harry who's holding the back of his head.) "are you okay?"

HARRY: "Fine, just." (Rubs at the spot a few times, then shrugs it off. Louis looks at him curiously.)

LOUIS: "You're sure?"

HARRY: "Yes, Nurse riches, I'm sure." (Props up the hood again. It unhinges.) "Damn it." (Tries again two more times to the same outcome.) "I need you to hold this up. It's gonna fall."

LOUIS: "Oh, yeah, sure." (Holds the hood up with his hand, looks at him for approval.) "Like this?"

HARRY: "Perfecto. As soon as there's an award for something as trivial as holding up a hood, it's yours."

LOUIS: "See, now if you ate cookies, you wouldn't be so grumpy." (Looks down at Harry's hand holding a wire, sees a gash on it, still bleeding.) "Your hand..."

HARRY: "It's just a cut, riches. Don't go Grey's Anatomy on me."

LOUIS: "Just a cut? You could get an infection or something." (Balances the hood on his head. Takes Harry's hand in his, cradles it, mentally assesses the damage. Harry looks up at Louis, focused on his hand, and flattens his lips together.) "At least clean it up. Do you have any antiseptic on you?"

HARRY: "Look at me. No, look at me." (Pointing to himself; grease stains, dirt and all.) "Do I look like the kind of guy that carries around an antiseptic?"

LOUIS: (Shrugs.)"I probably have one in my car. Wait." (Goes off to the side of the car.)

HARRY: (The hood falls on Harry's head.) "Ow!"

LOUIS: (Looks back, hand covers mouth.)"Oops. Sorry, that was—uh, are you okay?" (Harry gives him the look of a homicidal maniac.) "Right." (Turns around, leans into the window of his car, reaches around. Harry glances at the view briefly then goes back to massaging his forehead.) "Aha—found it!"

HARRY: (Mumbles to himself, still massaging his head.) "Who the fuck carries a fucking...—"

LOUIS: "There we go." (Squeezes some of the antiseptic out onto his own shirt, cleans Harry's cut with it. Harry looks at him, eyes wide, surprised, then returns to his previous indifferent demeanor.) "All better."

HARRY: "I'm not about to throw you a party for this, you know."

LOUIS: "And I don't expect one. I'm not as spoiled as you may think."

HARRY: "I think you're pretty darn spoiled, so."

LOUIS: "I stopped listening after pretty." (Chirpy.) "Why Harry, you're too kind."

HARRY: (Deadpanned.) "I think I'm starting to understand why someone would shoot their husband."

LOUIS:  "I'm telling you. Cookies are important."

HARRY: "Yeah, yeah, can it and hold the hood up. And don't drop it this time."

LOUIS: (Holds it for a while. Actually stays silent for that amount of time, apart from whistling or humming. Alternates his arms to hold it up. Visibly in pain after some time.)"My arms hurt."

HARRY: "Your arms are weak."

LOUIS: "My boyfriend can assure you that they are anything but."

HARRY: "I did not need to hear that."

LOUIS: "Yeah, well, my arms aren't weak, and Luke's spent dick is proof of that."

HARRY: "Again, did not need to hear that."

LOUIS: (Waits around, agitated because of his arms.)"I'm letting go, Harry."

HARRY: "Don't let go."

LOUIS: "I'm letting go."

HARRY: "Don't fucking let go, I'm almost done for the day."

LOUIS: (Heavy sigh.)"Fine... just to prove that I have the stamina of a horse."

HARRY: "Again with the things I don't need entering my ear canals..." (Pulling at a few parts, rearranging others, replacing a bolt. Finishing up.) "Done. Maybe you're not such a waste of a womb."

LOUIS: "What? Oh, thank god." (Flicks his swollen wrists.)

HARRY: (Thump.) "Ow!"

LOUIS: "Oh, crap." (Unsure whether to laugh, tries to keep a serious expression.) "Sorry, I—"

HARRY: "Are you trying to give me a fucking concussion?"

LOUIS: (Thinking it over.)"Will it make you less grumpy?" (Harry reaches his hands near Louis' neck slowly like he wants to strangle him but he's can't.)