WALL
Go ahead, say it.

MAN
Excuse me?

WALL
Go ahead, say it. Say it – that I’m an
underachiever – that I’m a thirty-eight
year old major failure.

MAN
Dude, what are you talking about?

WALL
It’s obvious. I see the look of
disappointment on your face.

MAN
No, that look you see is four beers,
all trying to exit through my bladder
at the same time.

WALL
Hey, I may not be the Great Wall
of China, but I’m not ashamed
of what I am.

MAN
And what would that be?

WALL
I’m a men’s room wall… in a
sports bar.

MAN
Try again. I actually see a lot of
shame in that.

WALL
No sir, no sir! You don’t get to just
walk in here and judge me like-

MAN
NOT judging you, dude. You dragged
ME into your introspective wall-of-shame.
I’m only expressing my thirty second opinion.
Just came in here to take a wiz.

WALL
Okay, I may not be my brother, Emerson,
the mural wall on 25th street, but-

MAN
That mural is beautiful! Your brother is
really talented.

WALL
He didn’t paint the goddamn wall! He
is simply the vessel the mural was
painted upon!

MAN
Dude, you’re emitting trace amounts of
some serious, serious jealousy.

WALL
No, not hearing this! (looks away )
Of course my father loves Emerson.
And I could never measure up to him…
or my father. (looks back to Man)

MAN
And what’s the deal with your father?

The Wall looks back to the Man.

WALL
He immigrated here from Germany,
back in 89’. He was part of the
original Berlin Wall.

MAN
Oh my god, you can’t compete with
that! Just accept it, dude, you’re a
men’s room wall. Your life consists of
a never-ending routine of huffing urinal
cakes and blankly staring at strangers,
while they stand in painfully uncomfortable
silence in front of you. No nods, no winks,
no unspoken gestures to validate
your existence.

WALL
Well…you’re talking to me. You’re
acknowledging… my existence.

MAN
No, I’m shaking off. There’s a difference.

WALL
Fine then! That’s why your penis looks
like a game piece from a chess board!

The Man looks down at his man-junk, and then back up.

MAN
Which chess piece?

WALL
The rook!

MAN
Hhhmm, I actually, get that a lot… mostly
from my grandmother. Is that weird?

WALL
Depends. Does she say it while you two
are playing chess?

MAN
No.

WALL
Then it’s definitely weird.

The Man zips up, considers.

MAN
Cheer up, dude. Things could be worse.

WALL
How so?

MAN
You could be an imaginary Border
Wall conjured up from an asshole,
built on lies, bigotry, demagoguery
and industrial strength horse shit.

The Wall considers, an ever so small slit of a smile on his face.

The Man walks over to the sink, washes his hands.

MAN
And… my grandmother could’ve said
my penis looks like the Bishop… with
that cut on the tip, half – circumcision –
thing going on. No thanks.

He looks back at the Wall, dries his hands, gives an unspoken gesture to the Wall, walks out.

THeND