ENIS AND OVARIA ARE SEATED AT A TABLE IN A MEDIOCRE RESTAURANT.
NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) We now return to, “All My Mistakes,” the ongoing drama of pathetic losers failing at love and life in all the right places.
When we last left Enis and Ovaria, they were fornicating in the backseat of someone else’s car while on the way to a lovely restaurant. But when the car’s owner finally noticed the two lovebirds, he violently ejected them from the moving vehicle, just a short walk away from a mediocre restaurant.
ENIS: Ovaria, my love, my darling, my etcetera and so forth… I have a confession to make.
OVARIA: Yes, Enis, my dearest, my consummate disappointment, my lovingest regret?
ENIS: You’re not real.
OVARIA: What? Not real?
ENIS: Afraid not.
OVARIA: What do you mean I’m not real? I’m sitting here about to have dinner with you, aren’t I?
ENIS: If only it were so simple.
OVARIA: I don’t see how it can be more simple than my existing right here, right now in front of you.
ENIS: Oh, dear, sweet, utterly fabricated Olivia, I had hoped you’d take this revelation a bit better, but that’s just how I built you, I suppose.
OVARIA: Built me? You’re crazy!
ENIS: Am I?
OVARIA: (CONSIDERS THIS) Yes.
ENIS: Is it crazy for a lost, lonely soul to construct their ideal love from an assortment of old electronics, hair pulled from the bathroom sink, and skin-shavings collected over the course of many, many years, and fusing these things together with the aid of everyday house cleaning products, dark magic, and the blood of several unwilling hitchhikers?
OVARIA: Yes. That’s absolutely insane.
ENIS: Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.
OVARIA: Enis, I also have a confession to make…
OVARIA: You’re not real either.
OVARIA: You’re a figment of my imagination. A pastiche puppet of my own design and backstory, poorly crafted one night after a long, lusty night of cocktails, pills, and a failed attempt at playing pen-and-paper tabletop roleplaying games with strangers on the internet. (PULLS A HANDFUL OF MULTI-SIDED DICE FROM HER PURSE) In fact, I control all that you are and do with a roll of these dice.
ENIS: I don’t believe it.
OVARIA ROLLS THE DICE.
OVARIA: Hmm… Well, according to this, you do. In fact, it seems you’re taking it rather well.
ENIS: (CONSIDERS THIS) Huh. I suppose I am. So, what do we do now?
OVARIA ROLLS THE DICE AGAIN.
OVARIA: (WINCES) Oh…
ENIS: What? What does it say?
OVARIA: It’s not important. No sense spending your last few moments not-existing with me in panicked existential horror.