DRYDEN – I once knew this Uzbekian heroin dealer in Istanbul. He kept three king cobras in a glass tank like an aquarium. Big mean poisonous motherfuckers that'd kill you as soon as look at you. Always hissing and spreading their hoods, (gestures like a cobra spreading its hood) Son of a bitch used to hide all his dope and his money under the gravel in bottom of the tank. Figured that anyone trying to rip him off would never have the balls to stick their hand in the cobra tank.
MILNE – When the fuck were you in Istanbul?
DRYDEN doesn't look at MILNE.
MILNE (grins knowingly) – You were never in fucking Istanbul.
DRYDEN (shrugs) – Actually it was Trenton, New Jersey. The guy was some old time hippie asshole with a big beard, looked like Jerry Garcia with bulimia. I only said Istanbul to improve on the story. Shit always sounds better if you set it somewhere exotic, you know what I mean?
CHA-CHA – What you mean is that you're a fucking liar.
DRYDEN – I’m a weaver of lurid tales, kid.
MILNE – I’ll wager he wasn’t Uzbekian either.
(The phone rings, a European-style double ring.)
MILNE – When the fuck were you in Istanbul?
DRYDEN doesn't look at MILNE.
MILNE (grins knowingly) – You were never in fucking Istanbul.
DRYDEN (shrugs) – Actually it was Trenton, New Jersey. The guy was some old time hippie asshole with a big beard, looked like Jerry Garcia with bulimia. I only said Istanbul to improve on the story. Shit always sounds better if you set it somewhere exotic, you know what I mean?
CHA-CHA – What you mean is that you're a fucking liar.
DRYDEN – I’m a weaver of lurid tales, kid.
MILNE – I’ll wager he wasn’t Uzbekian either.
(The phone rings, a European-style double ring.)
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