Bathroom Monologue: Utters and Cans

[GARY sits on one side of the booth in a lime green tuxedo, minus the bowtie. SAMID sits to his right in a banana yellow tuxedo, wearing two bowties, one banana yellow, one lime green. ARYANA sits on the opposite side of the booth in a chainmail tuxedo. A miniature version of the planetoid PLUTO floats in an ambient purple light between ARYANA and SAMID. GRANDPA sits at the head of the booth in a chair he stole from the bar, wearing overalls and lobster bib.]

Samid: It can’t have been that bad.
Gary: Her orgasm couldn’t have been faker if it had come out of a can.
Aryana: You should hold off for some good religious sex. Nothing like a bar next to a Catholic church the day after Lent. Nobody fakes anything when they’re that desperate.
Samid: You go to church? I thought you were a polytheist.
Aryana: I made out with a preacher and caught mono. His tongue was very convincing.
Pluto: There you go, Gary. Make out with a preacher.
Gary: I don’t want to be converted that way.
Grandpa: Back in my day if you had a cowgirl fetish you banged a girl in chaps and a hat. These days if you’ve got a cowgirl fetish she’s probably got utters and only exists on deviantart.
Samid: What would we do without you, grandpa?
Grandpa: Burn in a Hell of centaur fetishes and estimations of celestial mass!
Pluto: I miss being a planet…