It’s Timothy!

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**Timothy is tied to a chair in his own apartment and is afraid of getting killed by a skinny man with a gun and a rainbow lapel attached to the collar of his shirt** 

Timothy: Please, what do you want? Don’t harm me; take anything you want, please.

Assassin: Shut up! I’m an assassin. I was paid to kill you. 

Timothy: I don’t understand.

Assassin: An Assassin is a hired…

**Timothy interrupts**

Timothy: No, I get who you are, but if you came here to kill me, why not do it right away when I walked in? Why tie me up? 

**Assassin pauses to think for a while, then slaps his own face with his gun**

Assassin: “Right” (he murmurs under his breath, which expresses a moment of hindsight). You must think you’re smart, right? Well, I’m about to stain the floor with that smart grey brain matter of yours. Uh, yeah, I once had a C in biology. Ah ah.

Timothy: Oh no, please. 

**The assassin pulls the trigger at Timothy but the gun doesn’t seem to work** **He begins to struggle with the gun** **Timothy gently opens his eyes**

Timothy: I think it’s locked. 

Assassin: Shut up. 

Timothy: Is this your first time?

Assassin: I said shut up. 

**The assassin paces around the room for a few seconds then turns to Timothy**

Assassin: Everybody has their first time, and I really can’t fail at this mehn.

**The assassin starts to cry** 

Assassin: I failed as a surgeon, a pilot, a lifeguard, and even as a motivational speaker.

Timothy: That last one is not a real job, though.

**They both laugh** 

Assassin: Yeah, they are criminals, you know, motivational speakers. They should be jailed. Motivational speaking sounds like fraud. 

Timothy: Or murder. 

Assassin: What?

Timothy: In the end, they murder people’s hopes and dreams.

**They both nod and share a little laughter**

Assassin: So where were we? (pointing the gun back at Timothy) 

Timothy: Please don’t kill me.

**Timothy starts to cry**

**The assassin continues to struggle with the gun for a while then decides to ask for help** 

Assassin: So what did you mean when you said, “it’s locked?”

Timothy: Let me see.

**Timothy takes the gun, unlocks it, and gives it back to the assassin, all after his hands are untied** 

Timothy: It should work now.

Assassin: Close your eyes.

Timothy: (Crying) Please don’t kill me.

Assassin: Goodbye, Timoti.

Timothy: It’s Timothy. 

Assassin: Whaaat? 

Timothy: My name? It’s Timothy. You got the pronunciation wrong. 

Assassin: Okay, whatever. Goodbye Timothy.

Timothy: Goodbye. 

Assassin: What did you say that for?

Timothy: You said goodbye, and I just thought it would be nice to say it back. 

Assassin: You shouldn’t say that, because you’re not leaving to go somewhere; you’re about to die. You’re not going to miss anyone. 

Timothy: Are you going to miss me though or even think about me after this short time we have spent together?

Assassin: Shut up. 

Assassin: Well, I guess so; you did help with the gun. 

Timothy: You’re welcome. 

Assassin: That reply is cliche. You should use phrases like “it was my pleasure” or simply; pleasure. 

Timothy: It’s not like I will ever get the chance to say that to anyone again. 

Assassin: Yeah, I’m going to miss you. 

**They both cry while holding hands** 

**Timothy notices from a strange bulge around the assassin’s torso that he is beginning to develop tumescence. The assassin unties his legs and starts to bend him over** 

Timothy thinks to himself: “I can do this. My life is on the line, right?” 

Assassin unzipping his pants: I promise I won’t kill you if you do this.

A female pokes her head out from behind the curtain: Please don’t kill my husband. 

**The assassin then reacts by screaming at Timothy and cocking his gun**

Assassin to Timothy: You have a wife?

Timothy: No No No, I don’t, I can explain… 


**Timothy opens his eyes and is surprised to find himself unharmed** **he is confused why the strange woman and the assassin are now smiling** 

**Suddenly, a crowd appears from every corner of the apartment** 

Crowd: Happy birthday Timothy! 

Timothy: It’s not my birthday.

Assassin: You’re not the new gay guy from admin who likes kinky stuff? We usually prank our workers on their birthdays.

Timothy: What? 

Assassin: The Save the Gay Workers in Africa Association?

Timothy: Uhn?

**The assassin reaches into his pocket and unwraps a piece of paper** **And the look on his face gradually expresses uncertainty as he stares at the note**

Assassin: All right guys, I think we got the wrong guy. Sorry Timoti.

Timothy: (Angrily) It’s Timothy!

Assassin: Whatever.

**Timothy’s colleagues all leave**

Timothy to himself: I ain’t even that kinky. This is the worst birthday ever.

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