An interview with Harvey Weinstein: A two minute play

Scene: A luxury hotel room in New York City. Harvey Weinstein enters wearing a bathrobe. He is disheveled. There is a knock at the door. Harvey goes over to a mirror and smooths his hair. He slaps his face a few times, grunts, then sings.

HARVEY
Hy-Rickety whoop-de-doo,
We're the Men of Sigma Nu!
Hullibaloo, Terickahoo
All together for Sigma Nu, HEY!!

He points at himself in the mirror. Another knock at the door. He saunters to the door and opens it to reveal Writer/Comic Carolyn Bennett, wearing sweat pants, a Montreal Canadiens hockey jersey, and a Montreal Expos baseball cap.

HARVEY

Who the hell are you?

CAROLYN

Carolyn Bennett. The writer/comic. We met 30 years ago at the Just For Laughs Festival in Montreal.

HARVEY

Wha – I was expecting … you're not Abigail Breslin.

CAROLYN

I knew Mark Breslin. And you, sir, are no Mark Breslin.

HARVEY

Who?

CAROLYN

Don't you remember that night in 1987 with Gilbert Rozen at Foufounes Électriques? I slam-danced you into a mod when you tried to slip your hand up my Youpee doll... you said to give you a call if I wanted to work for Miramax. Well, here I am!

Harvey squints at Bennett. He shrugs and sighs.

HARVEY

Look, do you want to give me a massage or not?

Harvey opens up his bathrobe to reveal his hairy stomach and flaccid penis.

CAROLYN

Oh. Wow. Oh...Wow. Yes. I have heard about your legendary prowess. Yes. Let's proceed. Okay, baby, I brought some lube.

HARVEY

Good. I think we'll need it.

CAROLYN

Absolutely. Make yourself comfortable and get ready for some slippery love.

Carolyn produces a tube of lubricant. She applies a thick coat to Harvey's genitals.

CAROLYN

Feel good, sugar?

HARVEY

Oh yeah.. that's good. That's ..ow.. ow.. OW. OW! OW!!! AAAHHH!! GOODD! AHHA! WHAT DID YOU PUT ON ME!

CAROLYN

A little love potion called Rub A535.

HARVEY

AAAAHHHHHH!!! It burns! It buuurrrnnnnsss!

CAROLYN

You better get used to that, brother.

Carolyn winds up and kicks Harvey in the testicles. She is about to leave, but turns back to address him as he writhes in pain.

CAROLYN

Sorry about the assault. I'm not on Twitter.

Fin