BTS
Hello....
Mommy's home!
Hello, Mark?
What? What is it? Is it the kids? What's happened, Mark?
The kids are fine. They're at your mum's. How was your weekend with the girls?
Screw the girls, Mark. What the hell has happened? What the fuck have you done?
Just... come and sit down. Please.
Is it that girl from across the road? Amy or whatever name is?
You didn't, did you?
No, how do you think that?
Well, what then?
It's just... while you're awake...
This is the silliest thing really. I mean, you're gonna...
What did you do, Mark?
No, it's just not that big a deal when you think about it. It's just society that tells us...
Spit it out, Mark!
If anything, it's a good...
Mark!
I cut my dick off.
Sorry, what was that?
I cut my dick off.
Sorry, just one more time, please, in case I'm dreaming or deaf or something.
I cut my dick off. I cut my cock and my balls clean off on purpose.
You cut your dick off.
Okay.
Right.
Of course.
May I ask why?
I don't know. Why does anyone do anything, Suze?
Why did America put a man on the moon?
Why is there war in the Middle East?
Why are they decommissioned concords?
Enough wise.
Okay.
How about... when?
Tuesday.
The day I left for Bristol.
What the bloody fuck, Mark?
You were gone and the kids were staying with friends.
And I went for a curry with the guys. I had a job for it.
I don't give a fuck what you ate, Mark. Get to the fucking point.
So, we had a curry and a couple of beers and, you know...
I know why.
One thing led to the other and...
And what?
What about all the others? I mean, what were they to injure in all of this?
They were just helping out, being supportive.
Listen, this is difficult to explain.
This is all made sense at the time.
I guess you had to be there.
You're blaming this on fucking context.
These things happen, Seuss. I'm sorry your life doesn't fit into this pre-prescribed cookie-cutter plan as laid out by Grazier magazine and Holly fucking Willoughby.
I'm sorry I don't brew my own craft beer or make my own furniture out of reclaimed lumber or run a tech startup or write a star blog or have a penis anymore.
I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment. I try my best.
I work hard to provide for you and the kids.
I pay for this house. I'm a good fucking dad, goddammit. I am a good fucking man.
You're right.
I'm sorry. You're right.
You're an amazing dad.
You're an amazing husband.
I love you, Mark. I've always loved you. I always will.
But what about us?
It doesn't matter. None of it matters.
Now, how was Bristol?
God, it was awful. Just drunk middle-aged women making fools of themselves. I'm sure you can imagine.
I don't think I want.
What place, your wedding ring?
Um, yeah. Well, Becky was like, let's all go to the casino.
But I was like, no, thank you.
But we went anyway and I lost everything.
What do you mean, everything?
My jewellery, all the money, the house, everything.
We have three days to move out.
You
