Setting: The scene is late morning in a bedroom. The bed is center stage. A clock on a wall shows 11:00. The man and the woman are covered so that only their hair shows.
The man: [rising groggily, he is in great pain] Oh, shit. What were we drinking last night, honey? Tequila? Aw, I feel like someone’s trying to saw my head in two. Where did we go last night? [nudges her, she groans in reply] The last thing I remember was standing at the bar in that Irish pub. I think it was the Irish pub. Maybe it was the Mexican restaurant. No, maybe it was the Rosebud. No, I think it was the pub. Man, anyway, that was a hell of a night. [he thinks for a moment] Who was that guy you were talking to? At least I think it was a guy. Maybe it was some butch broad in drag. Aw, my head. Do women go in drag? Hey, [nudging her sharply, she groans in reply] whaddya call it when women dress as men? Hey! Oh, that hurt. You’re a lot of help. Aw, my head. Is that the water dripping in the bathroom? Aw, it sounds like cannons. I think I can hear the water dripping in the next state. Do you remember who that hideous old bat was that I was talking to in the pub? Shit, she was ugly. I think I almost threw up on her. No, I think I did throw up on her. [nudging her] Hey, honey, wake up. [She groans. He puts one hand on her and starts caressing her side gently.] Well, there’s one thing I remember. You were damn good last night. [aside] I think. [Back to her] But then you always are. You were good last night, and the night before, and the night before that. [playfully] The next time my wife goes out of town I’ll have to give you a call and we’ll find out if you’re just as good then too. [he yawns and stretches, then notices the clock] Holy shit! It’s eleven o’clock, [nudging her sharply] you’ll have to go, honey, my wife will be home any minute.
The woman: [bolting upright with great anger and staring the man in the eye] I AM your wife, you son of a bitch!
The man: OOPS.