Finals-Time Cop-Out: A Skit!

I've taken a quick break from studying for my Economics final to tell you that...I'm studying for my economics final. So, you'll probably want to wait until Friday night (the final ends at 8pm) for anything. In the meantime, please enjoy this short skit (one of many perhaps later being filmed for YouTube stardom) involving one of my online alter egos, THE_BOLSHEVIK. Just so you know, "THE_BOLSHEVIK" is basically a caricature of myself (that is, his quirks are more extreme versions of my own), but a lot more neurotic (usually, his character often changes to fit into a joke). The name doesn't have anything to do with political affiliations; it's just a name. "Kris" is a generic term meaning "friend or former roommate," most likely portrayed by my friend and former roommate, Kris. "Sandra" isn't based on anyone I know; I'm just bad at thinking up female names. Wish me luck on my final, and enjoy!

Setup to scene: THE_BOLSHEVIK was told by Kris that Sandra, an attractive female who has expressed interest in him, has a foot fetish that gets her really turned on.

Sandra: “Well, THE_BOLSHEVIK, my parents are gone for the weekend, we’re all alone in my bedroom…what do you wanna do?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Well, I, I was thinking I could play ‘This Little Piggy’ on your toes…the, the toes that are on your feet.”

Sandra: “Oh, that sounds so arousing.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Yes, I…I figured it would.”

Sandra: “(Singsong.) Well, don’t keep me wai-ting!”

She lifts foot toward THE_BOLSHEVIK. THE_BOLSHEVIK grabs her big toe and begins counting, smiling nervously.

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had…athlete’s foot. I’ll be right back.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK lets go of her foot and walks out. Cut to scene of THE_BOLSHEVIK washing his hands in a bathroom. His phone rings. He answers.

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Hello?”

Kris: “Hey, THE_BOLSHEVIK! It’s Kris.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Oh. Hey, Kris.”

Kris: “Sooo, how’s it going?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “You obviously know it’s not going, because if it were going, you’d have enough courtesy not to call and interrupt.”

Kris: “That’s true. What’s the problem?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Well, you said she has a foot fetish, and that’s all fine and good by itself. However, she also has a foot fungus.”

Kris: “What?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “A foot fungus, a fungus on her foot, which is eating the flesh of her foot. That’s…that’s not really a turn-on.”

Kris: “Really? That’s not a turn-on for you?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “What? No! Why, do you get turned on by fungal infections?”

Kris: “…No, that actually sounds pretty disgusting. So, what are you going to do?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “What am I gonna do? What can I do? I can’t continue in a relationship with a chick who has a fetish about a part of her body which is infected!”

Kris: “Well you could always buy her something. Y’know, like tough-actin’ Tanactin. That’s endorsed by John Madden.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “I am not buying her foot cream!”

Kris: “It shows you care. That’s pretty romantic.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “No, that’s not romantic! It’s the opposite of romantic. I’m not going to a restaurant and saying during desert, ‘Oh, Sandra, I have these gifts of foot cream and ear medicine for you.’”

Kris: “Does she need ear medicine?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “No! I don’t know! Oh, God, I hope not!”

Kris: “Maybe you should probably go back to her right now. It usually doesn’t take this long to wash your hands.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “I, I…guess.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK hangs up the phone and walks back in. Sandra is sitting on the bed, looking sultry.

Sandra: “Hey there, big boy! Want to get back to these?” (Lifts foot toward THE_BOLSHEVIK.)

THE_BOLSHEVIK: (Shudders slightly.) “Actually, Sandra, I was thinking we could play a different…a different game.”

Sandra: “Oh, you wanna play footsie?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “No! I mean, no. I mean, how about playing………Mario Party?”

Sandra: “Mario Party? That doesn’t sound very arousing.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Oh, but it…but it is. All that…hot…Italian…I…I’m not going to even try to finish that thought.”

Sandra: “Well, it’s too bad for you anyway, because I don’t have that game.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Want me to go get it? I can go get it from my place! I’ll go get it from my place!”

Sandra: “Oh no you don’t!” (Lightly grabs THE_BOLSHEVIK’s side’s with her feet.)

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Uhuhuhuh…You know, actually, what’s really…a, arousing for me? Socks.”

Sandra: “…It’s my feet, isn’t it?”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Hm?”

Sandra: “(Sadly.) You can’t stand the fact that I have athlete’s foot.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “I…wait, what do you mean? It’s a parasitic fungus. It’s bad for you.”

Sandra: “But I love the idea that I’m harboring life on my body. That’s so…arousing!” (She playfully runs her fingers through her toes.)

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Oh, Lord…Sandra, I don’t think this relationship is going to work. It’s really quite…well, it’s not arousing, I can tell you that.”

Sandra: “…You jerk! And to think, I was going to let you sleep with me and my feet!”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Um…yeah, you…you were, weren’t you? Huh, funny how…things change, I guess.”

Sandra: “I want you out of my house.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Yeah, I guess I’ll just be going now.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK slowly and quietly walks out of the room. Before leaving completely, however, he pops his head back in.

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “By the way, I took a quick glance, and, um, you may want to get you ears checked out.”

Sandra: “…”

THE_BOLSHEVIK: “Okay, I’ll go.”

THE_BOLSHEVIK pops his head back out of the room.

End scene.