Sassy Gay Friend does the international film circuit

(If you have no idea what I'm talking about, see the real Sassy Gay Friend on the Second City Network!)

This week's episode is for the Bolly-Toronto-fabulous Melanie!

Meet everyone from the cast of Merchant and Ivory's Bombay Talkie. Vikram, a movie star, is married to Mala, a sweet little doormat. 
Vikram and his friend Hari, a screenwriter, are both infatuated with Lucia, an English novelist. 
They are all foolish, completely miserable, and, save Mala, hateful human beings. This fate could have been avoided if they'd had a Sassy Gay Friend.
Get your own at the Sassy Gay Friend Meme Generator!
Bombay. Evening. Sitting together at a posh restaurant, the protagonists ponder their sad fates in awkward silence, except for Lucia, who admires her reflection in a mirror and twirls a blonde lock around her finger in the general direction of a a young nawab dining with his coterie. 

Enters wearing bright yellow bellbottom pants and mumbling choreography instructions to himself. 
"Typewriter" and shimmy, "Tip tip tip tip " and kick-2-3-4, "zindagi ki har kaahani" and twiiiirl...
Reaches their table and plops himself down while beckoning a waiter for champagne.
I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here today.

Yes, actually.

...What? Did somebody say something?

I've got just one teensy-tiny little question for you all. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHAT, WHAT, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

(to Vikram)
Starting with you, Mr. Dainty-Ego Cheats-A-Lot. This woman could not be waving more red flags if she were Chairman Mao.

But I....

But what? She is obviously using you to prop up her own feeble existence.

But we're great together! A romantic and a realist!

You are nothing of the kind, mon cher. She's a parasite and you're a selfish bastard.

She is a little distant sometimes.

That is because she is a solipsistic drain on society.
Gestures up and down Vikram's torso.
Though PS, love this look. 

But just because you can attract honeys while treating them like dirt doesn't mean you should. Be pretty on the inside, you horrible, horrible man.
Turning to Mala. 
Now, sweetie, I have a bit of advice for you too.

MALA (sniffling)
Keep waiting until he comes home?

Hells no! Dump his ass pronto and go find yourself a nice industrialist or something. Or, better yet, go move in with Asha Parekh or Nanda. You girls will have the wildest sleepovers!
Turning to Hari. 
Now. You. Your addiction to suffering is downright Byronic. You may think people like that kind of thing, but take a glance at his bio next time you feel like getting yourself involved in all this drama-o-rama.

But at least they'll pay attention to me if I help out in their affair.

SGF (rolling his eyes)
Yeah, but so what? They'd lavish attention to the chai boy if he was passing their notes. You need to attend to what you love, not what they love. You're a writer? Then write!

All the screenplays I'm proud of get rejected.

Oh boo-hoo! Nobody said it's easy to make it big in Bollywood. You surround yourself with nonsense, you're going to write nonsense.

HARI (brightening)
I hear Calcutta makes serious films...ooh, and their poetry!

There you go!

HARI (getting up from the table)
Philistines, I bid you adieu. I have a train to catch.

Now. Lucia.

LUCIA (still making eyes at the nawab)

SGF (stealing her cigarette and stubbing it out angrily)

LUCIA (defensively)
What do you mean? My life is fabulous.

Oh cut the crap, lady. You are, to put it delicately, a megabitch of the first order who should be quarantined in a kindergarten until you learn some basic human decency.

LUCIA (huffy)
I hardly think....

SGF (interrupting)
No, you damn well don't. You need to take that blonde bouffant of yours back to England where people don't put up with your melodrama.

LUCIA (beginning to cry)

I can't believe you're being so horrible! I've suffered so much for so long....

Those tears are as fake as that so-called YSL you're wearing. 


Oh hush, I can totally tell it's a knockoff. Anyway, no one here cares about your midlife crisis. Oh, and on the plane ride home, try to be less loathsome human being for a few hours.
Gives Lucia a not-so-gentle nudge towards the door. 
Spies Helen just finishing a cabaret number in the corner of the restaurant.
Helen, my love! You are the only ray of deliciously spangly sunshine in this toxic psychological waste dump. What say we vamoose?

HELEN (thrilled to be appreciated without being groped)
I thought you'd never ask!

To audience, over his shoulder, 
while linking arms with Helen and turning to skip away.
They really are all stupid bitches. 


Melanie said…
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. It is like therapy after the film.

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