Oh, you’re waking up. I’m not quite ready yet.

Sorry I had to drug you. But as your best friend, it’s my duty to make sure your bachelor party is something special.

Now, I know you said you didn’t want one. But we both know what you really mean is that she didn’t want you to have one. Even though she’s out with her friends right now, having her own party.

No, don’t get up. I mean, you can’t. I’m good at tying knots, so you’re not getting out of that bed until I let you go. And where would you go anyway? You’re naked.

Sorry. I can tell you’re confused. This is a nice little hotel room registered under your name and paid for with that shared credit card you have with her. And these here are receipts for the cover charge and horribly overpriced drinks at a strip club right across the street from here. Also conveniently paid for with that same credit card.

I have a plan, you see. We both know you can’t marry that bitch. But I’m the only one of us man enough right now to do anything about it. Since you won’t listen to my numerous attempts to tell you to call off this wedding, I had to take drastic action.

So that’s why there is a camera here. There was supposed to be a stripper showing up any minute now, and I was going to get some good pictures of the two of you having sex. Although honestly, just any picture of you having sex with another girl will be enough for her to call the wedding off. You lose that horrible fiance. And I get my best friend back. You’d be pissed for a while, but eventually you’d realize I helped you dodge a bullet.

It’s the perfect plan, really.

Well, up until the point the stripper cancelled on me. Like, half an hour ago.

You’d think it would be easier to find a girl to rape your best friend, especially in this city, and with the job market being what it was.

So, on to plan B I guess. Which I just made up pretty recently.

I’m going to rape you.

Full Script Here