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by Walter Wykes


[A hotel room. BOB sits on the bed. BEER GIRL, constructed entirely of beer cans, sits next to him. She does not move. After a moment, BOB takes her hand.]

BOB: I love you.


I hope that’s not weird.


I mean, I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.


I know I just made you and everything, and it’s only been a few days, but I can’t help it. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment you started to take form. From that very first beer can, I knew we had something special. You're not like the others. You’re different. You're like my other half. I can't live without you. You … complete me.


You don’t have to say anything.


I mean, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. That’s understandable. I’m a complete loser, and you’re … you’re perfect in every way. You're like some kind of angel. Some mythological creature of beauty and light and goodness. I'm overwhelmed by your goodness. I've never had anything like this before. Something real. Before, it was always just how fast can I get them in the sack, you know, there was no real connection, no love, but with you ...


I don’t want to move too fast. I don't want to blow this. But … if I tried to kiss you … would that be—

[There is a knock at the door.]

Oh god.

[He looks through the peephole.]

Shit! Flo!

[Another knock—louder.]

Shit shit shit!

[He covers BEER GIRL with a blanket.]

Don’t say anything!

FLO: [From outside.] Open up, Bob! I know you’re in there!

BOB: Go away!

FLO: We have to talk!

BOB: No! No more talking! I hate talking!

FLO: Just open the door!

BOB: No!

FLO: Why not? Is someone else in there? Do you have some whore in there with you?!

BOB: No!

FLO: Oh my god! You do! I’m gonna kick your alcoholic ass, Bob! You hear me?! Open this door! Right now!

[BOB opens the door.]

BOB: There’s no one here, Flo. Keep it down.

[FLO pushes her way into the room.]

FLO: Where is she? The little tramp! Ah-hah!

[FLO rips the blanket off of BEER GIRL.]

Oh. My. God.


BOB: This is kind of awkward.

FLO: What the hell is she?

BOB: Beer Girl. I made her.

FLO: You made her?

BOB: Yeah.

FLO: Why?

BOB: Why?

FLO: Yes—why? Why did you make her?

BOB: Why did Michelangelo make David? Why did da Vinci make the Mona Lisa?

FLO: Yours is made of beer cans.

BOB: I know. She’s perfect.

FLO: This is so pathetic! You couldn’t have me, so you made yourself a fake girl!

BOB: What? No! This has nothing to do with you!

FLO: Oh, c’mon. It's so obvious.

BOB: I could have you any time I want!

FLO: In your dreams!

BOB: Why else are you here, if not to lure me back?!

FLO: This is ridiculous, Bob.

BOB: She's not ridiculous!

FLO: Come home. You can sober up. I'll make pancakes.

BOB: I can’t go home.

FLO: Why not?

BOB: It's not home. I don’t love you.

FLO: You love her?

BOB: Yeah. That’s right.

FLO: You’re in love with this little beer-sculpture?

BOB: She’s more than that. We’re soulmates.

FLO: Soulmates?

BOB: Uh-huh.

FLO: Listen to yourself, Bob.

BOB: I know. It sounds a little crazy. But I’ve been praying.

FLO: Praying?

BOB: I get down on my knees and everything.

FLO: You don’t pray.

BOB: I started. This morning.

FLO: You don’t believe in God.

BOB: Beer Girl has opened my eyes to the magic of the universe.

FLO: Okay, what have you been smoking?

BOB: Nothing. I haven’t been smoking anything.

FLO: All right, look, I’ll make a deal with you—okay? Prove to me that you’re serious about this thing with Beer Girl, and I’ll leave you alone. The two of you can get back to your little honeymoon or whatever this is. I’ll disappear.

BOB: Poof? Like the wicked witch?

FLO: Like the wicked witch.

BOB: Deal. How can I prove it.

FLO: Do her.

BOB: Huh?

FLO: You always said sex was an important part of any relationship. I mean, you made me do it every friggin’ night.

BOB: Sure.

FLO: If she’s your soulmate, you’ll have to do her sometime. Right? I mean, that’s what soulmates do.

BOB: So … you … you want me to …

FLO: Do her. Have sex with the giant aluminum cupie doll.


BOB: Right now?

FLO: Uh-huh.


BOB: I don't think she'll go for that. Not in front of you.

FLO: Why not? Is she shy?

BOB: I want the first time to be special.

FLO: Oh, c’mon, Bob, don’t get all sentimental. Our first time was in the back of my dad's pickup truck ‘cause you were too cheap to pay for a hotel.

BOB: That was different.

FLO: Why?

BOB: You’re not my soulmate. We were both drunk.

FLO: Beer Girl doesn’t drink?

BOB: No. She isn’t that kind of girl.

FLO: Are you gonna give it up too? You know what they say about drinking alone.

BOB: I’d do anything for Beer Girl.

FLO: Even that?

BOB: Even that.

FLO: Wow.


Wow. I guess I’ll have to let you go then. I mean, I’d only be holding you back. Right? If you’re going to sober up and get a job …

BOB: Whoa! Who said anything about a job?

FLO: Don’t you think she’ll want to stay home with the children.

BOB: Children?

FLO: You are going to have children—aren’t you? With your soulmate?

BOB: I … I don’t know. We never talked about it.

FLO: Maybe you should ask her.

BOB: [To BEER GIRL.] Do you want children?


FLO: She isn’t answering, is she?

BOB: No.

FLO: I didn’t think so. Just wanted to make sure.

BOB: [To BEER GIRL.] Do you?

[No response.]

Do you want kids?

[No response.]

FLO: Does she answer often?

BOB: No, not yet, but I prayed about this. About this specifically. Maybe … maybe if I kiss her.

FLO: Oh, right, like maybe if you kiss her she’ll just—

[BOB kisses BEER GIRL. She immediately springs to life.]

FLO: Oh my god!

BOB: It worked!

FLO: What the fuck?!

BOB: My love brought her to life! It's a miracle!

FLO: This is impossible!


BOB: Do you? Do you want children?

[BEER GIRL nods.]

Me too! I’m so happy!

FLO: Back off, you aluminum bitch! He’s mine!

BOB: Stay back, Flo!

FLO: It’s not fair! How can you love some liquid freak like her, but not me!

BOB: She doesn’t nag.

FLO: If you acted like an adult every once in a while, I wouldn’t have to nag!

BOB: She likes baseball.

FLO: She does not! She’s lying!

BOB: Do you like baseball?

[BEER GIRL nods.]

BEER GIRL: I like it for him.

FLO: Why, you little—

[FLO lunges at BEER GIRL, but BOB stops her.]

BOB: I said stay back!

BEER GIRL: Please, don’t fight.

FLO: I’m gonna kill her!

BEER GIRL: I want you to be happy.

BOB: See! Did you hear that?! You’re trying to kill her, and she wants you to be happy! Don’t you feel a little petty?!

BEER GIRL: Both of you. I want both of you to be happy. Together.

BOB: Together?

FLO: What?

BEER GIRL: You and Flo.

FLO: Me and him?

BOB: But … what about us? You and me?


BOB: What?

BEER GIRL: It can never be.

BOB: Why not? Don’t you love me?

BEER GIRL: I do. More than anything.

BOB: [Taking her hand.] Then … why can’t we be together?

BEER GIRL: When you made me, Bob … you forgot one thing.

BOB: Did I?

BEER GIRL: One important feature. Something essential for ... physical union.

BOB: Physical union? I don't understand.

FLO: Sex, Bob.

BOB: Oh.

[Pause. BOB considers this.]

Oh! Oh my god! No!

[He cries to the heavens.]


FLO: You didn’t make her anatomically correct?

BOB: How could I be so stupid!

BEER GIRL: There’s still a way. For us to be together. But it will require a sacrifice.

BOB: Anything! I’ll do anything!

BEER GIRL: Take my life.

BOB: What? No!

BEER GIRL: Drink me.

BOB: Drink you?

BEER GIRL: Drink me, Bob.

BOB: I … I can’t.

BEER GIRL: I want to be one with you. It’s the only way.

FLO: Go ahead. Drink her, Bob. It’s what she wants.

[BEER GIRL removes a beer from her chest and hands it to Bob.]

BEER GIRL: Take it.

[He does.]

Pop my tab.

BOB: Will it hurt?

BEER GIRL: No. It won’t hurt at all.

[He stares deep into her eyes.]

BOB: I love you, Beer Girl.

[BOB pops her tab and drinks.]

BEER GIRL: I love you, too.

FLO: Can I have one?


[FLO picks a beer.]

FLO: You know, this really is a beautiful gesture. Maybe we should give it one more try, Bob. I mean, maybe I could be more like her.

BOB: Like Beer Girl?

FLO: Yeah. Why not?

BOB: [Toasting.] To Beer Girl.

ALL: [Toasting.] To Beer Girl!

* * *

Copyright © 2009 by Walter Wykes

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that Beer Girl is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional and amateur stage performing, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

Inquiries concerning all rights should be addressed to the author at sandmaster@aol.com



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