TWO MEN ARE SITTING AT A KITCHEN TABLE. A TEENAGE BOY, CHAD, ENTERS,
CHAD
(SOMBRE) Dad. Dad. I've got something to tell you... I'm straight.
DAD #1
What?
CHAD
I'm straight. As a die.
DAD #2
(SOBS) Oh, Chad!
DAD #1
Look! Look what you've done to your father.
CHAD
I can't live a lie, Dad and Dad. I've got to be me. I just like ... boobies.
DAD #2
Oh, I can't bear it. All our dreams. All our plans ... And do you have a ... a... I can't say it.
CHAD
A girlfriend? Yes, Dad, I do. It's Sally.
DAD #1
Sally? But she's your fag hag.
CHAD
No, she's my girlfriend.
DAD #1
But it's not natural. You boost your girlfriend's self-esteem to her face and then laugh about her fat arse behind her back - like your Uncle Gok. That's what girlfriends are for, not sex.
CHAD
But, Dad, I love her.
DAD #2
Stop it! And grandchildren! We're going to have grandchildren.
DAD #1
We'll never be able to show our faces at Madame Jojo's Steam Rooms and Massage-orium again.
CHAD
But Dads, it's still me. I'm your son. I still love musical theatre and shopping, and I'll still moisturise every day. It's just that I like fannies, not bum fun.
DAD #1
Just go. We love you, but we can't look at you right now.
DAD #2
We need some time alone.
CHAD
Okay.
CHAD LEAVES, DEJECTED.
DAD #1
She has got a fat arse, though.
DAD #2
I know. Like two Matt Lucases in a sack.
END.