Chess Game

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a short sketch by Daniel Guy 





Bertrand v Marcello are playing chess. 

We hear faint background music - Bach preferably.


Bertrand has amassed many chess pieces. Concentrating hard. 

Marcello relaxed. Waiting. Sighing. Bored. Tapping fingers. 

Shifting positions…


After a long pause. 


MARCELLO: Hey come on, Bertrand. This is ridiculous. 


BERTRAND: Wait. 


(Long pause.)


MARCELLO: Did I tell you I went to a weird sex club last week?

                I met this girl. I am on the terrace outside having a

                 cigarette when this girl walks over. 

                She looks down at my crotch and says  ‘lovely view’

                 and I say ‘Is my fly open?’ and then I realise she’s

                 got a wonky eye. She laughs. She asks me what I am 

                doing here. 

                I say I’m just looking around. She asks me if I need to

                despunk. I say Excuse me?     

She says she knows a guy here who has an irresistible

                 thirst for a stiff twink, who will take twenty quid to 

                shoot down his throat.  I tell her I’m not interested. 


BERTRAND: Marcello. 

Will you shut up. I am trying to concentrate. 


MARCELLO: You’re taking too long. 

Your last move was two weeks ago. 


BERTRAND: I don’t want to mess this one up. 

I’m going to beat you if it’s the last thing I do. 


MARCELLO: Take my fucking queen. 


BERTRAND: What? Where? 


MARCELLO: Jesus…

Look. I put my queen there so you can take it and

                win the game and then I can go home. 


BERTRAND: (after much thought) It’s a trick. 


MARCELLO: It’s not a trick. 


BERTRAND: You tricked me before. 


MARCELLO: Many times. But not this time. 


BERTRAND:  Yeah. 


MARCELLO: Jesus. Hurry up. 


BERTRAND: Give me a minute. 


MARCELLO: Then she asks me if I’m a plumber.


BERTRAND: What?


MARCELLO: This girl I met at the sex club. 


I say why do you ask? She tells me she’s looking for

                a plumber to do some work on her house in

                exchange for sex with her husband.  

                She says it would be ok if I bring some mates over to help. 

                The offer is the same. She says the job needs to be done 

                and they haven’t the money right now….


BERTRAND: Marcello, please…


MARCELLO: I tell her I am not a plumber. I tell her I work in 

                telesales. She says that’s interesting. I say why?

She says her neighbour has always wanted someone

                in telesales to fist his dog. Quite friendly for a

                Rottweiler, and if I ever wanted to borrow him for

                the weekend she could put us in touch.

Weird, huh? 


BERTRAND: I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to put me off. 


MARCELLO: No. 

It’s true. Her name was Jessica. I have her number on

                my phone. Not the dog. Jessica is the girl I was

                talking to…

                Then she tells me this weekend she plans to get dressed

                in her favourite fur iguana suit and have a friend come

                round and fuck her ass with a cricket bat.  She says her 

                father played for Midddlesex, and it's a fantasy she really

                needs to act out now. 


BERTRAND: You’re doing this cos you know your situation is

hopeless.  You’ve lost both bishops, a knight and a

castle and you haven’t a chance…


MARCELLO: She told me her husband is a door-to-door 

salesman, offering a complimentary vagina service. 

The full service includes initial tantalising and

titillation, kissing of the vaginal lips and exploratory

tongue investigations…. 


BERTRAND: Marcello!


MARCELLO: …clitorial stimulation via slow and fast tongue

                flickering, single and double finger insertion,

                leading on to full penis penetration, accompanied by

                further clitoral stimulation and culminating in a

                full vagina ecstasy… 


He also runs a Cock On Wheels service.  Willing to

               cycle to your place anywhere in the city to deliver

                his cock for your use. You know what he’s charging? 


BERTRAND: (Looking up, confused) What? 


MARCELLO: This guy…

She says for general play, stroke and suck it’s a

                 pound a minute. That’s pretty cheap isn’t it…


Then she says to me, ‘I’ve never had meat in my seat.’

                I tell her I don’t know what she is talking about and

                she says -‘I’ve never had it in my ass.’

                She says she’s thinking of selling her ass virginity to

the highest bidder. 

                - Just take the fucking queen, you idiot!

                How simple do I have to make it? 


BERTRAND: It’s a trap. 


MARCELLO: Oh jesus….


So a bit later on, I meet this guy called Ted…

He tells me he’s looking for a guy to turn him into

                their perfect trophy wife.  He wants to be completely

                feminised head to toe, have facial feminisation

                surgery, hormones, breast implants, long silky hair,

                be smooth all over, and have long polished nails. 

                He’s prepared to carry out all household duties, cooking

                and cleaning etc, and suck his husband’s cock at

               least twice a day.

He wants to be moulded into the sexiest bombshell a

                man could ever dream of. That’s worth a bob or two.


You know, I’ve known several men seeking the very

                same thing.  And the funny thing is they’re all the

                same as Ted, over fifty, overweight and bald.


So I tell Ted I think would make a very good

                traditional wife and he deserves a fine pair of breasts.

                Then a bit later he asks me if I happen to have any

             Rohypnol on me. Can you believe it?

                I say I’m sorry.

        He confesses to me that he’s got this fantasy about

                inviting a guy over, him spiking his drink and then

                abusing him.


(Bertrand goes to make a move and then realises it won’t work.)


BERTRAND: Damn!

Look, will you shut up!

You’re putting me off!


MARCELLO: And then later on, I met this girl and we really hit

                it off and at about midnight I say to her, let’s go

                back to my place for some tapas. 

She thinks I don’t mean tapas. She thinks it’s some

                kind of code-word for sadomasochistic sex.

                I’m happy to play along with this..

On the way home I say, 

What’s your name, by the way?

she says ‘My name? Why would you want to know that?

                She says 'Let’s not rush things. I rarely tell people my

     real name until we’re engaged!

Can you believe that?

                I say fine.

She says I can give you a false name if you want.

                I say OK.

She says call me Ophelia.

                 I say Hi Ophelia. I’m Baptiste Mtabe, vice-president of

                Uganda. 


(Bertrand makes a move.)


BERTRAND: I’m taking your queen. 


MARCELLO: At fucking last. 


(Marcello moves a piece.) 


Check mate. 


BERTRAND: What? Oh fuck. 


END.





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