A kitchen at night. LUNA, in drag but only underwear, astride a churning washing machine.
HOWARD, rumpled, enters.
HOWARD: | What you doing? |
LUNA: | I’m looking at the moon. |
It’s so sad that no woman’s ever been to the moon. | |
And obviously no one in our line. | |
HOWARD: | You’re washing your clothes. |
LUNA: | The machine is washing my clothes. I’m looking at the moon. |
HOWARD: | It’s two o’clock in the morning. |
I’m trying to sleep. | |
LUNA: | I’d recommend lying down for starters. |
HOWARD: | I can’t be round you like this. |
LUNA: | I know. |
Exit HOWARD.
LUNA abruptly switches machine off.
HOWARD: | &&& | (Off) Thank you. |
Retrieves a bloodstained dress.
LUNA: | &&&&&& | You’re welcome. |