(THE SCENE: Inside Gorgeous Gummo’s Casa De Butts, the local establishment, beloved for providing the community with liquor, chicken wings, and naked women, owned and operated by STRUGGLE Pro Wrestling mainstay GUMMO NAKAMURA. It is a place of total sensory overload, with loud music blaring and garish pink neon seemingly everywhere, in addition to the occasional topless dancer. Diminutive cruiserweight wrestler ZIPPITY DUDA anxiously makes his way through the main room, clearly overwhelmed and intimated by all of this, not to mention by the monstrous bouncers posted at regular intervals and the oily sketchiness of the patrons that frequent the place during the day shift. Seeing as how she is neither monstrous nor in a state of undress, Zip decides to approach ROSA THE BARTENDER to inquire of Gummo’s whereabouts.)
ZIP: Um, hello? Excuse me? Ma’am?
(ROSA doesn’t notice that he’s there, as she is busy wiping out glasses and distracted by the TV mounted on the wall behind the bar, which is currently showing a car insurance commercial featuring a CGI mouse.)
ZIP: Hello? Ma’am?
(ROSA seems startled for a second, and quickly turns around. She starts to speak, then stops, looks ZIPPITY up and down, then becomes visibly angry)
ROSA: Whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell!? You can’t be in here!
ZIP: What? Why not?
ROSA: Seriously!? This place is full of liquor and boobs! (she looks past ZIPPITY, toward one of the monstrous bouncers) Hey, Ox, who the fuck let this kid in here!?
ZIP: What!? Kid? I’m twenty three!
ROSA: Bullshit.
ZIP: (pulling out his wallet and presenting his driver’s license) No, look!
ROSA: (snatching the license out of his hand) Yeah, of course, I’m sure it’s all here on this extremely real ID, right? You think I haven’t seen enough of these to tell a fake when I see it? (She keeps talking, while closely inspecting the license, eventually holding it up to the light and slowly becoming more and more confused) Little punks like you come in here every day, and… try… to… (she looks at it one last time, with her eyes wide and her head tilted a little, before handing it back) I’ll be god damned. I… I’m so sorry.
ZIP: No, it’s okay. I get that a lot. Just like, uhh… Is Gummo here?
ROSA: Wait, how do you know Gummo?
ZIP: I work with him. At the other place. Like, you know, the wrestling place.
ROSA: Wait, you’re a wrestler!? How!? Ah shit, I did it again, I’m sorry.
ZIP: It’s okay, I get that a lot, too.
ROSA: Look, just… Just wait here. I’ll go see, uhh… Wait what was your name again?
ZIP: Zippity. Zippity Duda.
ROSA: Not even gonna ask.
ZIP: Please don’t
(ROSA disappears through a door behind the bar, and ZIP waits for an excruciating couple minutes in his extremely uncomfortable surroundings before she returns.)
ROSA: Okay, he’s in his office. Just go through that door, down the hallway, second door on the right. Just be quiet, because he’s on the phone with somebody. And uhh, sorry I called you a little punk.
ZIP: Don’t worry, I get that a lot too.
(After a short trip down the hallways, ZIPPITY arrives in GUMMO’s office, which is a surprisingly subdued and business-like space, aside from the walls being adorned with posters for such art films as Deep Throat, Debbie Does Dallas, and for some reason, Ernest Scared Stupid. GUMMO is involved in a heated phone conversation, and when ZIPPITY arrives, he just holds up a finger in the universal gesture for “wait a minute,” then motions for him to take a seat.)
GUMMO: What!? No!… No, I don’t care what he said, you know his word’s no fuckin’ good!… Uh huh… What? Bullshit! That muthafucka was supposed to get me my money last Thursday!… No! When you se him, you tell him- Wait, hold on just a second. (He looks up from his phone and speaks to ZIPPITY) Hey yo, uhh, Zip, you wouldn’t happen to be Italian, would ya?
ZIP: No, actually, on my father’s side, I’m half-
GUMMO: Yeah, great whatever. (he goes back to the phone) You tell that spaghetti-bendin’ muthafucka that if he doesn’t have my fuckin’ money by this time tomorrow, some of my boys are gonna come over to his place, cut off his cannelloni, get his marinara sauce all over the carpet, and I’m gonna make him taste-a my spicy meat-a-balls, the rat bastard!… What?… No, you tell him every fuckin’ word! Nobody fucks with Gummo Nakamura!… Yeah… Uh huh… Right, yeah… Okay, cool. Talk to you later… Yeah, I love you too, ma.
(ZIPPITY looks on in horror, mouth agape, as GUMMO finally turns his attention back to him.)
GUMMO: So, yeah, what can I do ya for?
ZIPPITY; Well, uhh, it’s just that, uhh, well, y’know…
GUMMO: C’Mon, my time is valuable, spit it out, kid.
ZIPPITY: Well, you know, I’ve heard that you know how to, uhh… Acquire certain things.
GUMMO: (giving him a sideways glance, and speaking with a very subtle tone of menace) Oh yeah? Well, what kinda things did you hear about?
ZIPPITY: Um, well, y’know, certain, uhh, illegal things…
(GUMMO immediately looks furious, and ZIPPITY is frozen in terror as he stands up, comes to the other side of the desk, and hoists him up by the collar)
GUMMO: Now, you listen here, ya little bastard! I don’t know what people told you, but they’re fulla shit!
(GUMMO goes through the motions of menacingly shaking ZIPPITY, but within seconds, it become apparent that he’s actually patting him down for recording devices)
GUMMO: I run a clean operation here! A legitimate business! If you think… For one minute… That I’m…
(With one last grope in the general vicinity of ZIPPITY’s testicles that is an uncomfortable experience for all parties involved, GUMMO nods satisfactorily, halts the search, then walks back around to his seat behind the desk)
GUMMO: Alright, cool, so whaddaya want? Pills, smoke, dope, shit, trips, uppers, downers, I can get anything you need, kid.
ZIP: Oh, uhh, I’m not looking for drugs, sir. At least, you know-
GUMMO: So what, then? Guns, lawn darts, weird-ass porn, counterfeit Legos? If you was looking to get your cherry popped, I can’t help you with girls no more though, Had some problems with the cops lately, so everything in the private rooms is strictly over-the-pants for the time being. Also, no more exotic animals, I uhh, had to make an executive decision there after that gaboon viper got loose.
ZIP: Wait, gaboon viper!? The deadly snake, endemic to the rainforests of Sub-Saharan Africa!?
GUMMO: Yeah, also the savannas. but I wouldn’t get too worried, I’m sure he’s at least a couple blocks away from here by now. I hope. But anyway, c’mon, whatchu want?
ZIP: Well, you see, Mr. Gummo, I want something that’ll, like… Make me bigger.
GUMMO: What!? Ah hell, kid, those pills are no good. I tried ’em, ya know, for shits and giggles, and in the end, Lil’ Gummo was the same size as when I started.
ZIP: No, no, no, that bigger that way. I mean, like muscles. I need, you know… Steroids or growth hormones or something.
GUMMO: Aw kid… Aw jeez. That shit’s no good, son. I mean, I been around the business for a while, ya know, and I seen it do awful things to guys like like you. Just terrible, like guys’ roid raging, and their kidneys goin’ out and shit. Like young guys, too. That one giant kid B.G. useta manage, he just fell all apart man, just terrible. Not to mention what it does to your balls and whatnot.
ZIP: So… Is that a no, then?
GUMMO: Look, I’m just sayin’, no self-respecting businessman who had any ethics or concern for your well being would sell you that shit, Zip.
ZIP: …
GUMMO: So yeah, my guy should be dropping by tomorrow, just show me the cash and let me know what ya need.