Eggs (NHB Modern Plays)

am serious, like, I don’t understand humankind, women, friends, men, lovers. I literally have no idea. And I never have. Just like Scarlett Johansson, I can look, seem, right but in fact know nothing and understand no one

And it just made so much sense to me, cos that’s it. That’s what I have been trying to explain to you. I feel like such an alien. A hatched thing. This creature who has the shell of a woman but inside is just this weird little alien, just taking it all in, totally confused by everything. Unable to really understand what the fuck anyone means.

Yeah, she looks all normal and chubby with, like, a flabby belly, a brown wig and kitten-heel boots.

Scarlett Johansson, plays an alien who just drives around some rank town like Swansea, or Slough? Picking up men in a van, taking them back to her lair, where she does a striptease and then kills them in a vat of space oil and the whole time she is wearing, like, Primark.

Cos I think you would really connect to it too. You know, cos it’s about being alone –

Have you seen Under the Skin?

Yeah, but I am also really impatient and impulsive so ahhhhhhh, I’ll just message him now.

Yeah and so it’s sort of made me rethink my ideas about the breaking-down of gender roles, cos even though I am empowered to chase a guy, and time is of the essence and all, it usually leads me to be with insecure fuck-ups who suck me dry like a vampire.

t’s just I have started to be a bit reticent about the whole, taking-charge thing, lately. Because, well, various ex-boyfriends have told me, after we broke up, that my overwhelming enthusiasm and passion at the beginning of our relationship sort of well, overwhelmed them and blinded them to the fact that we, in fact, had nothing in common.

When are you going to grow up and take responsibility for yourself and your pathetic little life? To wake up and realise that moaning, day in day out, is so, so, so boring. That singing badly over a nineties’ rap song is not performance art… or even remotely enjoyable. And I don’t care if it is meant to deliberately frustrate the viewer! That while you have been moping about, waiting for inspiration to thwack you on your talentless, privileged head, the world has moved on, life has moved on. And you have no right to judge those who have tried to move on with it. Or to leech off them for free food and twenty-four-hour mental-health care. That everyone loses people they love, has their heart broken. It’s how they deal with it that counts. That you could have asked me, just once in all these fucking years, how I felt, sometimes. Cos I didn’t feel great, a lot of the time.