Fiction

Ralph Loves Potsie

by Erik Swedlund

Ralph "The Mouth" Malph strides into the apartment and lets out a loud "Hey, hey," his arms out, palms up.

APPLAUSE

"Hey, Pots," Ralph says, "I've got a great new joke for my routine. Have you heard the one about the Pope and the duck?"

"Why don't you shut the fuck up?" Potsie says, looking up from the television. "Did you get our unemployment checks?"

"No, I was trying to line up a gig at the Regal Beagle."

"You're fucking useless, do you know that? The goddamn landlord is on my ass all day, and you can't even pick up our checks!"

"Aw, Potsie, honey, don't worry. I'll get the money on Monday," Ralph says, slowly undoing Potsie's belt.

Potsie slaps Ralph's hand away from his crotch. "Don't try that shit now, Mouth. We're gonna get evicted, for crissakes."

Ralph sits down on the bean bag, silent for a minute.

"What's on?" he asks.

"Fucking Chachi's fucking show, the one with that one nice ass. Charles in Charge. Don't change it, I gotta go pinch a loaf." Potsie leaves the room.