“Excuse me,” says Maddy with precise enunciation, “it’s very important that you give me a Screaming Orgasm now please.”

“Um, remind me how you make that?”

“Sure! Put some ice in a blender. Then take me out to your car and–”

“NOT that kind of bar, Maddy,” says Landrey, yanking.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then why,” says Maddy cunningly, “do they have hot bartenders?”

Lights dim; the audience mobilizes. “Please excuse my friend,” sighs Landrey.

“How much did she manage to drink in one intermission?” says the concerned, hot bartender.

“None.”

“INTOXICATED WITH THE POETRY OF MARLOWE,” declares Maddy, digging for her flask.