Monique Daviau’s story for The 4/2 Spectacle

The Spectacle, the new Friday 10pm show, launched last week. It featured Improv for Evil, and Parallelogramophonograph debuting their new “Dick and Jane” show.

But there’s some other elements to The Spectacle that we’re very excited about. In addition to the two improv shows, we’re also including two individual artists in on the fun each week.

artist 1:
Every show will feature a “middle act”, which is a performer doing a brief, under 5 minute SOMETHING in between the first and second group. Last week it was musician Jon Bolden, singing a song about trying to get a girl out of his bed.

artist 2:
In the audience of every show there will be a second artist, watching intently. Their job is to produce a work of art based on something in the show that inspires them. Once it’s complete, it will be featured on the Hideout blog for all the world to see.

Monique Daviau was the first artist in the audience. Being a writer, she created a short story. Though it shares little in common with the tone or locale of PGraph’s Dick and Jane show, it nevertheless draws its inspiration from it. If you were at that show, see if you can see what elements both have in common.

Monique’s story follows. Some strong language is contained therein.

ASSFACE
By Monique Daviau

Hey Assface! Yeah you, Assface. You, the one with a face like an ass. I’ve got news for you. The cleave that runs down the center of your head, your puffy yet rosy cheeks, the fetid odor of putrefaction that clouds around every word you utter with that puckered, brown mouth of yours. Well, truth be told, you’re embarrassing. I’m not telling you this because we’re friends. I’m telling you this because we’re more than friends. According to the laws in certain states, Assface, I’m now your daddy.

You remember that ball we went to last year? Fourth of July? That terrible red-white-and-blue Republican fundraiser thing your creepy millionaire parents made us go to? I was shocked—it was cash bar! Ten bucks for a fucking vodka tonic! And your mom, dressed like a cupcake, came over and took my by the arm and introduced me to the VP of Douchebaggery from Coca-Cola and I was supposed to be impressed like I was meeting Jesus or something. Like this asshole who makes bank selling sugar water while raping puppies and causing billions of dollars worth of tooth decay a year—it was in that moment, when I saw your mother’s pale blue eyes. They shone like the fatty layer of scum that sits atop dishwater after manually scrubbing the catch pans of the chicken rotisserie at Costco. It broke my heart. What the hell did you do to her besides making her look at your assface, Assface? But then I realized that your mother has a future. With me.

I pretended to have a headache and asked her if she had any painkillers in her purse. Of course your mother has painkillers in her purse, Assface! It took her all the might she had in that feeble little body of hers to get that prescription bottle open. Codeine! Somebody has a pharmacist in Mexico! I love your mother. A more beautiful woman could not produce a more assfaced son, but it’s true. Despite your obvious handicaps in the face department, I love her. I kissed her in the parking lot and she ran like a child into my arms.

We’re on the road now. Days Inns and KOAs and Denny’s Grand Slam breakfasts. Your father never knew what to do with her but I do, and several assistant managers of Motel Sixes in the Dakotas have complained about the noise. But you know what? She may be old. She may weigh ninety pounds. She may have a dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice in her purse next to her codeine and her cinnamon gum. She may have a son with an assface. But hand that woman a .50 caliber pistol and whisper something in her ear about your father’s poorly-hidden “business” trips to Thailand…damn! The CIA itself could not train a more skilled sharpshooter. Actually, she prefers stabbing. Warm blood squirting everywhere. Big knives are totally your mom’s thing. She’s an old lady with a murderous heart. Did you realize what an amazing woman she is? I’m just happy that she has senseless killing as an outlet for all her years of suffering. She knows what a stab in the back feels like. No more. She’s beautiful. That old life of hers, the one with you in it, never filled her cup. But you know what, Assface? I do.

Monique entreats you to check out LAFF, The Ladies Are Funny Festival, coming to Austin May 5-8.
Get tickets to The Spectacle here. And don’t forget the show on April 9th is free!