MR. MALDARK: RUBBER, PAGE 2

Kelechi pulls up to a station with a screech.

Kelechi: i've got a surprise for you. Portillo's! Chicago's own! a little piece of home right here in the valley.

Maldark: i don't have a home.

Kelechi: hello, tiny window? yes. one dog hot with all the brimmings. make that chili thick and those onions grilled to a deep dark brown and make sure that ribeye is purple.

Maldark vomits all over the passenger's seat.

Maldark: me and my stomach are settling.

Kelechi: and for me? water. to clean this mess up. see? you'll feel hungry again. i tell you, Mr. Maldark, that bitch just cut me off! did you see that? he was a man, too. i tell ya, Mr. Maldark, society is getting crazy. it's impossible to live anymore, especially for girls. three stacks against them from birth jump. girls are sexualized at an early age and they're strippers before you know it if they don't get out of their small towns. it's worse where i'm from.

Maldark: *wiping his mouth with a floormat napkin* South Side?

Kelechi: i am Rohingya. those poor dears are child brides at age 8 and spitting out babies at 10. stunts their potential permanently. Nobel laureates and acid reducers and film directors and Lyft drivers they will never be. we need uplifting shorts of space exploration. girls are the ones who put out the fires and feed the whales. we need more poets at the very least.

Maldark: it's hard to help when we are so far away. in the land of plenty.

Kelechi: that's why i'm really shouder-sparking on your idea, Dark. this grand concept of a project. yeah. i need to be building something. toward what i haven't figured out. i need to get my hands dirty. i'd fly over there but my American Airlines tickets got lost in the computer. i went down there in person and they confirmed it after taking one look at me. American, huh? talk about terminal. all our Presidents are a little too touchy-feely for my tastes. i can taste my own tit thank you. we need to lead ourselves, nobody's gonna do it for us. why just this morning i get an evelope from the airline.

Maldark: apology letter?

Kelechi: nope, two tickets to something called Black Lives Fitness. i guess i was on their registry.

Maldark: sounds Russian.

Kelechi: turn at the freeway or the highway?

Maldark: the ultimate high is freedom.

Kelechi: have you seen that Project M C Squared commercial? see this is what i talk bout. it purports to be a lab kit for girls to work with chemicals and devise formulas and move blocks to invent equations which will get the sexier sex interested in dull boring science. but all this is is a way for girls to make perfume. that's the end gas. dot it on your wrists, bottle it, and now science is fun! they ain't foolin' nobody. you can't fool me.

Maldark: my poor Stan Smiths. the FBI men found them rooting through my garbage. leftovers from college which have now become the only fabric separating my holey socks from the ground.

Kelechi: i love that singer. soulful voice. cool kicks, doc! huh, those Feds wouldn't know classic feet if it bit them on their backdoor virus. did you know he played tennis? speaking of hi-tops, did you know Grace Jones invented the hi-top fade?

Maldark: i need a haircut. it's getting smelly down there. right here. thanks, thanks for the lift.

Kelechi: your wrists still hurt?

Maldark: and my ankles. must be the new forced diet.

Kelechi: here. check the glovebox. take 'em. they're bracelets, made of a special elastic substance. they protect me when i sleep alone. give me hope.

Maldark: thanks, Wonder Woman.

Kelechi: *look* please. Storm.

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in the Tank at the Pentagon, President Bump is twirling in a rolling chair alone at the styrofoam table in the sealed room.

Bump: alone at last. a moment of peace all to myself.

Bump checks the scores on his watch.

Bump: Zulu time? since when do we allow these African terrorists to tell us what time it is? oh, now wait, that's just not fair. Weather Channel got a new fox. Kelly Love? with those tits? no, i'm sorry. they can't tell me otherwise, Kelly Love is a porn name, Kelly Love is the ultimate porn name, she's a porn star, you can't fool me.

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at the National Anthem, Keith Williams Jr. almost makes it through the entire song. the crowd is restless anticipating Vin Scully. Keith starts to go into mondo falsetto mode with the high notes towards the end and disappears into thin air, dropping the mic.

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at Ashley Parker's apartment

Ashley tosses her keys in the blender.

Comey: drunk?

Ashley: tipsy.

Comey: had a healthy skate?

Ashley: no. but it was a good skate. worked up a sweat from my bottom to my falling top. my sheets are gonna get ruined tonight.

Comey: yeah they are. whaddaya say. just one tug? for the memory bank?

Ashley: and sperm bank. i dunno. i'm already in bed. with my glo-in-the-dark pajamas on. oh, you're not here? i always assume Mueller will be in my apartment silently not stirring with the lights off when i get back from skate dates.

Comey: at a secret location in Northern Africa. no one knows we carry out secret missions with our volunteer troops here. that's why i set up a secret twitter account. just for you and me. locked out for the rest of the world. only 2 people know the password. and the Wingcode. so we can get as filthy as we want. to dig up dirty on our opponents.

Ashley: get me in the mood, Honey Comey.

Comey: check your feed.

Ashley: no mentions.

Comey: good. scroll. there's April Ryan.

Ashley: with her permafrost face that always looks like it's on the verge of crying. she's my idol.

Comey: here's a clip of the next ET with Kelly Ripa.

Ashley: *chuckling hard* ET is right. Kelly is definitely on something. look at those wide eyes to indicate she's suddenly very interested in this conversation about show business. hey what's this attachment?

Comey: dunno. secret file. it's a video clip from Admiral La David.

Admiral La David: the call signal is 00356. in Niger. backing up our frontline rooks ahead of schedule. it's snowing ash over here. it's not my skin. under control.

Comey: that gets me in the mood. gotta go. providing cover, cos i'm so tall. until next time, my darling, when i'll get to skate on you. a tug for old times' sake?

Ashley pulls on the zipper and opens the zip file. to reveal all of Comey's nudes taken in camouflage speedos at dusty air bases.

Ashley: oh my. sweet dreams, me.

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Maldark: i see you've almost got the fence completed. it's amazing how you guys rushed to get that thing done. couldn't wait to get it erect. to solidify more separation amongst neighbors. i don't know my new neighbor's face much less his name. now there's virtually no reason to contact him.

Intendo: except your half of the bill for the fence. the check's in the mail. your neighbor's mail. we took it out of your account.

Maldark: my place looks like a reconstructed barn. i used to have patio furniture that was subtle. you cut it up into triangles of modern art. you turned my garden ornaments into garden furniture. how am i supposed to be festive when i can't see my lawn elf staring at me through my window any mornings?

Intendo: that guy's on my office window shelf.

Maldark: did you enjoy the show this morning? your men peeped my whole session with my shower.