Sucked In
(Two young adulterers meet beside a river.)
He: You're even taller than your .jpg! So why did you pick this place, of all places? You could have picked Chicago. Or even Gnaw Bone.
She: This was equally out of the way for both of us, and far enough away to make sure nobody we know sees us. Are you sure you deleted all of our email?
He: Oh yeah. All of it. You certainly are cautious.
She: I have to be. My husband would kill us both if we knew.
He: So would mine...my wife, I mean...would kill us both. I'm assuming you made reservations? Since this was your choice of location.
She: Oh yes! I got us a cheap and sleazy room at a nice hotel. The Endless Inn? I heard about it last year at Marienbad.
He: The Endless Sin?
She: Inn. Not "sin." The Endless Inn. Like the "Unending Inn" or the inn that has no end.
He: Hmmm. Interesting. Do they have the Golf Channel?
She: When you say "interesting," do you mean "good interesting" or "bad interesting"?
He: Good interesting. It sounds biblical. Like an eternity spent sinning.
She: Like hell! As opposed to "like heaven," I mean.
He: Unless your endless sin is a juicy one, like adultery or lust, or something else you wouldn't mind doing for an eternity.
She: You know that moment right before an orgasm? That's how I'd like to spend eternity.
(Later, as they skip stones)
He: So what brought you here, besides your SUV and the need to pretend you're married to someone other than your husband?
She: And just what's that supposed to mean?
He: If this is really such a risk for you, why risk everything on some guy you met on the Internet? Most people wouldn't be so impulsive. Impulse is more of a guy thing.
She: Women get urges, too.
(The young philanderer checks in)
Clerk: Yes?
He: Yeah, I'm here to check in. Here's my confirmation number.
Clerk: Your room is ready. Paying by cash? You just let us know later on if you'd like the, uh, resident rate.
He: What?
Clerk: Just sign this waiver.
He: What's this mean? The parts of the first party will first part from their appointed party?
Clerk: Oh yeah. That's just lawyer talk. You know...boilerplate.
(Later, as he enjoys a cigarette and ponders his infidelity, our man the adulterer is accosted by a thinly disguised Clerk.)
Clerk: Hello there, young sir.
He: Yeah, right. Hi.
Clerk: Business or pleasure?
He: My pleasure is none of your business.
Clerk: Sorry, sorry. Just thought you might be with the convention.
He: Convention?
Clerk: Oh yes. This hotel is packed with conventioneers, crawling like termites.
He: I was under the impression this was the off-season. What kind of convention are you with?
Clerk: Crime enforcement, old boy. Allow me to introduce myself. Roderick Leazenby at your service. Chief Investigator, Hypertextual Intersexual Affairs. Don't suppose you know of anyone having an affair, do you? Ho ho. That's just Chief Investigator humor. Oh well, got to run. Cheerio.
In his room, our man is disturbed by a persistent knocking upon his door. Peering through the peephole, he sees a disheveled long-haired fellow. It's the Clerk, this time dressed as a maintenance worker. The Clerk attempts to peer through the peephole as well.
He: Yes?
Clerk: Housekeeping.
He: We're all right.
Clerk: Are you sure? How about some towels?
He: No, thanks.
Clerk: Shampoo, razors? Fresh sheets?
Our man dials the front desk while keeping an eye on the latest nuisance. The Clerk jiggles the door.
Clerk: I can't get this door open. It seems to be stuck!
He: (to Clerk) No, really, no thanks. (turns away to speak into phone) Yes, hello. This is room 209. Could you place a "Do Not Disturb" order on our room? We're really perfectly happy with our accommodations, thanks. No need for towels or soap or anything like that.
Clerk: (on phone at front desk) Oh, you're very welcome. (he smiles at camera, conspiratorially)
Our man again peers through the peephole, but this time finds the hallway empty.
Cut to the couple in the pool area with various shots of them swimming and being watched/videotaped from a distance by the Clerk in one of his disguises. They enter the sauna and immediately begin rubbing each other down. After a couple of minutes of this...
She: I think I've had enough. My goose is cooked.
He: I can't get this door open. It seems to be stuck!
They struggle with the door for a while, and then fall back, exhausted and ready to pass out, after it fails to open. As their bodies quiver, recumbent, _________________. Cut to the public shower (the one used for swimmers).
She: Water! Just the ticket to cool down a couple of hot bodies!
He: Nice and wet. Just like I like it.
We get a voyeur-cam pov of them as they bathe in public, and then
Cut to them in their own shower.
Later:
She: I think we've got most of the chlorine out of our suits.
He: I told you this was the only way to do it.
She: Damn! And here I thought you had some kind of kinky bathing-suit fetish.
Our man looks to be at a loss for words, as she plops on top of him on the bed. They kiss a bit as we pan to the t.v., which turns itself on, apparently. They regard the television with shock. The screen offers a candid video of them in bed.
She: Oh my God! That's us!!
He: Creepy stalker sonsabitches! I knew it!
He urgently begins clicking the remote. To no avail.
She: What are you doing?!
He: Trying to change the channel! What does it look like I'm doing?
She: I'm getting woozy. I feel ... woozy.
He: So do I. Maybe the sauna drained us?!
She: So why are we both feeling this way at the same time?
They begin to cough and collapse into each other's arms as we tilt up to reveal a vent, emitting invisible gas (indicated by sound effects). They pass out and then _________________.
Focus in on a second man's face, as he peers down at a matchbook (Endless Inn logo in place). On the matchbook cover is a phone number. Our second man enters a phone booth and dials
He: John? Yes. Yes. No, I didn't get it. They didn't say exactly. Well, Father Morgana hinted a little bit--I was a little impulsive, romantically speaking, in my earlier days. I have no idea how they found out. I know what I'm going to do, though. Plan B. I go to the Himalayas for a year to find myself and you break the news to my mom. That's why I want you to tell her. I'm afraid she'll disown me if I tell her. Just tell her I'm going to be serving my fellow man, even though they won't let me serve the Lord. Listen, I don't have a room here, but I've got a phone number. Got a pen? All right, the number here is __________. I'll be waiting here awhile for the bus to the airport. Yeah, a bus. I don't have a car anymore. Last week I donated it to the homeless. Uh huh. And yesterday? as I was walking to work? a bunch of them threw their empty beer cans at me as they drove past--in my car. Bums pelted me with garbage from the security and comfort of my Toyota, John. And yet I still believe in helping out my fellow man. Just not my fellow American. So that's why the Himalayas. Yeah. Uh huh. I do appreciate it. And John, I'll send you a rug.
From the booth he sees a beautiful, mysterious girl (Black Boots) drop a white scarf, apparently for him to retrieve. He scoops it up, and follows her .
Meanwhile, our first couple wake to find themselves unsure of what just happened to them. The door bursts open and our clerk enters with a canister of Evil String in each hand. Our first couple struggles beneath the sticky strands as they bemoan their predicament. And then he _______________________.
We rejoin our second couple, who have entered a stairwell and are furtively making love. And then ... moodus interruptus! A fellow guest appears, and steps over their entwined bodies as he climbs the stairs. Slightly embarassed to have been "caught," they move on, making their way through the hotel, looking for a private place. They eventually come to Couple A's now-vacant room, with door ajar and lights on. They figure, what the hell, the previous guests have vacated, let's have a little fun in here. They enter.
She: Not much of a room, but the price is right.
He: We shouldn't be in here. The paying guests could come back at any moment.
She: It's an unwritten law that an open door means an open room.
He: Well then maybe we should wait until it's a written law.
She: Nonsense. Some businessman had to run to the airport, and left the door open as a courtesy to the maids. And as a courtesy to us.
He: Yeah. Speaking of the airport, I really don't have that much time until I have to run.
She: Help me get these boots off. My legs are so hot!
He: Sure!
After our man becomes visibly flustered by removing her boots, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom. We see him flipping a coin and looking anxious, as if he's making a big moral decision. She looks in the drawers and finds a Gideon's in the left and a "batsuit" in the right. She smiles knowingly. He comes out to find the costume laid out on the bed. She sits beside it, mysteriously.
He: What is that? A costume?
She: Feeling heroic, I hope?
He: Feeling confused, really. Where did you get that?
She: I found it in the drawer. Here. Put it on. That would really get me going. There's something about a man in tights that really gets my juices flowing.
He: But I don't know where that's been, or who's been wearing it.
She: Smells clean to me. Don't spoil this moment for me. Be a sport.
He: What is this? A Powerman suit? A DynaHunk costume? It doesn't even have a decal on the chest, like all the other great copyright-protected superheroes.
She: I promise you that you won't be disappointed.
He: Just promise me this: If I accidentally knock myself out while saving you from some fantasy scenario, don't get the police involved. That would be just such a cliche. You know, like the urban legend about the guy in the Tatman costume who trampolines off of his bed and slams his head into the ceiling and knocks himself out cold.
She: I've never heard that one. But I promise you that you can trust me.
He turns to head into the bathroom to change, but she stops him:
She: Where are you going?
He: To change, of course.
She: Do it here.
He: Turn around first. I'm shy.
She turns so as not to see him change, but of course catches a discreet glimpse in the mirror. She smiles to herself. After he's dressed, he strikes a heroic pose for her approval.
She: Now this is what I dream about! To the bathroom, Pantyman!
He: Now you're turning me on.
In the bathroom:
She: (producing a white scarf) Hands behind your back, please.
He: Wait a minute, I thought I was going to save you!
She: My fantasy is that I get to save the superhero. Not vice versa. It's called female empowerment. You got a problem with that? I didn't think so. (she finishes tying him to the handicapped-assist bar in the shower)
He: How many of those things do you have?! (she stares at him awhile but doesn't answer, and pressed for conversation, he continues) You know, you're making me hot with the way you're looking at me right now.
She: (gagging him with yet another scarf) I'd rather hose you down first.
She turns on the shower and directs it over his body, soaking him well.
She: Okay, here's the story so far: The Purple Scoundrel has left you in this watery deathtrap, and only I can save you. I'm going to leave you here to get good and wet, to give you time to think about the things I'm going to do to you, and then I'm going to come back in here and molest you pretty seriously. Okay?
We see our man struggle a bit beneath the shower head, and notice that she has tied him very well indeed; he can still see, though, and we follow his POV through the door, which has been left slightly ajar. From this vantage point in the bathroom, we hear a knock on the door and realize that she's going to answer it. We think we see her chloroformed, dragged away, amid much noise, all of it muffled. Our man manages to slip out of his bonds, and leaps into the room proper. Quiet. Nothing out of place. He enters the room to find it perfectly empty. We hear a card key being used on the door. Our man quickly hides behind it, but leaps out to find only Miss Black Boots, with an ice bucket.
She: I got some ice. There's all sorts of games you can play with ice.
He: Are you okay?
She: Never better. Why are you looking at me like that?
He: There was a knock on the door! And you answered it! And somebody kidnapped you!
She: Hey, that's even better than my fantasy!
He: No, this happened! Is this some kind of joke? You're playing a joke on me! You're screwing with my head!
She: Do you like knock-knock jokes?
At that moment, the door bursts open with the Clerk once again ________________________________. The Clerk drags his prize, wrapped in a sheet, down a lonely hallway. We see a number of static shots of the empty hotel, secure in its secretive beauty. We follow the back of a French Maid outfit as its wearer heads down the hallway. The camera revels in fishnet stockings and satin and lace as the figure moves along, slowly. We tilt up and the French Maid turns slightly, almost seeming to wink at the camera. She is really ______________!
TO BE CONTINUED
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