Rap and Revelrye: “Take Me To Your House:Mouth-To-Mouth” – Hugo Lau



Acrylic Painting by Holly Furey








— indicates interruption

/ indicates the next line begins at this point

Beats can be taken when it feels in/appropriate.

Keep it pacey.


EGGS. Once / upon a…

HANDS. I had a dream.

HAIR LOSS. Not again!—

BRAINS. Early in the morning, or late at night?

EGGS. After a perfect night-in with take-away and well-earned rest for my weary wings—

HANDS. A dream.

HAIR LOSS. All right, show’s over ladies and germs, nothing to see here.

TITS. Fuck germs. Fuck anti-biotics—

HAIR LOSS. Where to now?

BRAINS. Do you play darts?

TITS. Not professionally.

EGGS. Afterparty?

TITS. Fuck afterparties—

HAIR LOSS. Fuck boyfriends—

TITS. Fuck real friends—

HANDS. I had a dream.

EGGS. Make the most but / don’t try too hard

HAIR LOSS. Honey, you’re trying too hard to impress the pretty one.

BRAINS. The one in the playsuit?

EGGS. She’s stunning.

HANDS. You really think so?

TITS. Playsuits make you look like a five-year-old. It’s disgusting.

EGGS. You’re disgusting.

TITS. Because I don’t want to fuck a five year old with tits?

HANDS. I did, yes.

HAIR LOSS. Hey, maybe the whole psychoanalysis thing isn’t for you, eh?

HANDS. It’s all a bit… I had this messed up…


HANDS. No, I shouldn’t, I don’t know why I started saying that, / it’s really


HANDS. I can’t not say it now, can I?

TITS. Nah, fuck that, say it if you want to, don’t if you don’t.

HANDS. It’s…

BRAINS. You know, she’d just be a conquest.

EGGS. She could be more, though.

BRAINS. More than she knows.

EGGS. Than you know.

TITS. “Five-year-old,” need I remind you?

BRAINS. She’s not actually a five-year-old.

TITS. “With tits.”

HANDS. I just wanted to drink her.

BRAINS. I saw that.

EGGS. Yeah, you were drinking her with your eyes.

HANDS. Eyes?

BRAINS. Condom.

HANDS. No. Thank you. It isn’t really that great at the moment.

BRAINS. Stops and starts?

HANDS. No, I mean, the sex itself, it’s amazing, it’s—

BRAINS. You haven’t had an orgasm yet.

HANDS. No, I have. They were lovely. It’s just, we don’t — I don’t want to, very often.

BRAINS. Too busy thinking about your career?

EGGS. Can I see that again please? I miss her.

HAIR LOSS. Try not to cry, darling.

EGGS. It was real.

HANDS. I had a dream.

TITS. Hey, say “I had a dream” again!

HANDS. I had a dream.

HAIR LOSS. I think she was being sarcastic.

BRAINS. Thinking, were you?

TITS. I was being sarcastic.

HANDS. Is this thing on?

EGGS. Yes. I’m recording.


EGGS. Recording meals. 1540 calories per day to maintain my weight, but I don’t tell anyone

because that’s vain.

TITS. 1.5 rice cakes? What a treat!

EGGS. Maybe I’m the boring one…

HANDS. I had a dream—


BRAINS. Not a good—

EGGS. Not a good time, pal—

BRAINS. Because I remind you of yourself—

EGGS. Time’s been dragging—

BRAINS. And you want to get away. From yourself. Do you want to get away? You want to

get away—

EGGS. Time’s been dragging and my heart is—

HANDS. I had a dream where myself and Daniel went out to dinner. / And we were sucking

down these shellfish

HAIR LOSS. Daniel’s your boyfriend?

HANDS. and feeding them to each other. We were being so greedy—

TITS. Gross. I fucking hate fish.

HANDS. And then he took me back to this house that he was housesitting for an old friend.

And we started making out on the bed, but then he said something, and he took this body

out of the cupboard. And he pulled my hair and he hacked my head off with a rounded

knife and put it on the body. And he got on top of me, and I could feel everything… It was

a girl’s body. I was fused to it. My head. This body. It was so curvy and full, and he was

grabbing my skin, and there was so much more of me—

EGGS. My heart is bleeding.

BRAINS. What happened?

HANDS. And then I started feeling this… this thickness—

HAIR LOSS. I can’t take this—

HANDS. Coming out of me—

EGGS. Somebody tore it—

HAIR LOSS. This pressure. I need to sneak off to the bathroom and confess—

HANDS. And it was all going into his mouth—

EGGS. Somebody tore my heart open—

HANDS. Like a disease, or something—

EGGS. My heart—

HAIR LOSS. The end!—

HANDS. It was solid—

EGGS. It’s broken—

HANDS. In my mouth—


TITS. None of us have ears—

HANDS. And I told him to stop. To put me back on my body before I got infected too. And

he wouldn’t so I had to take my head into my owns hands — her hands — and put it

back on my body.  And he just kept eating her. And it was dribbling out the sides of his

mouth, these thick streaks of colour—

HAIR LOSS. Baby, it was only a dream—

HANDS. And then I was in the street—

BRAINS. Breathe.

HANDS. And I could feel them in my mouth—

TITS. Spit them out—

HANDS. The streaks—


EGGS. It was just a dream—

TITS. Spit them out—

HANDS. In the street—

HAIR LOSS. I promise.

BRAINS. Just breathe.

TITS. Did that really happen?

HANDS. No, but—

EGGS. It was horrible, but you survived.

HANDS. It must have been real, but it lacked the weight you’d expect from reality.

BRAINS. Couldn’t have put it better myself.

Play excerpt by Hugo Lau

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