Of this play.
Zoe: So you never get the craving for blood?
Earl: Not anymore.
Zoe: But you did?
Earl: Things have changed.
Zoe: I find that hard to believe.
Earl: I’m not asking you to.
Zoe: If you’re a vampire, you need blood to survive.
Earl: You’re not even sure I am a vampire.
Zoe: I’m not entirely discounting the possibility, though; I’m waiting for proof.
Earl: What makes you think I care about proving anything to you?
Zoe: What makes you think I care whether you’re a vampire or not?
Earl: You ask an awful lot of questions for someone who doesn’t care.
Zoe: I was trying to show an interest. I pride myself on being polite.
Earl: I find that hard to believe.
Zoe: I’m not asking you to.
Earl: This seems like a lonely place to spend a Saturday night.
Zoe: Are you lonely?
Earl: We both know why I’m here. I was wondering what it says about you.
Zoe: That at the moment, this was one of my better options.
Earl: Spending your Saturday night talking to a waitress who doesn’t even like you.
Zoe: And a fake vampire who also doesn’t like me.
Earl: You didn’t know I was going to be here.
Zoe: Didn’t I? Maybe I just got unlucky.
Earl: And I’m not a fake vampire, but you don’t care.
Zoe: I do, actually. Your life might depend on it.
(Anna enters with Earl’s sandwich. She crosses to the table and sets it in front of him.)
Anna: Sorry about the wait. The first one fell on the floor.
Earl: Why did I need to know that?
Anna: This is the one that didn’t.
Zoe: Are you sure?
Anna: I can check.
(She starts to cross left.)
Earl: No, wait. Don’t leave me.
Zoe: Scared of something?
Anna: What did she say to you?
Zoe: Why do you automatically blame me?
Anna: Every bit of past experience I’ve ever had. (To Earl.) What did she say?
Earl: Nothing. I just — I was going to tell you about becoming a vegetarian, remember?
Anna: Yeah, I know. But actually, my shift’s almost over, and I’ve got to start cleaning up the back.
Earl: Wait a minute! How much whining and cajoling did you have to go through to get me to tell?
Zoe: I didn’t whine.
Earl: No, you threatened.
Anna: I whined, maybe, a little bit.
Earl: And all of the sudden, you don’t care anymore? My story means nothing to you?
Anna: It’s not that, but I do have other things I need to do — like my job.
Earl: You’re going to leave me to talk to her?
Anna: You don’t have to talk to anybody.
Earl: That’s going to stop the lady the fantastical threats?
Zoe: My threats are pretty mundane, actually.
Anna: Okay, fine. Maybe for a few more minutes.
Zoe: So. You were in Arkansas.
Earl: I am aware. Let me tell my own damn story.
Zoe: Just wanted to remind you where you left off. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.
Earl: You don’t need to dream; you just do it.
Anna: However, some of us realize that it’s still your story. Go ahead and tell.
Earl: I found a remote little town, and I bought a hog farm just outside it.
Anna: Um, why?
Earl: People tend to be suspicious if you don’t have anything like a job or a means of living. I didn’t need to be the “crazy old man” living back in the woods.
Zoe: The town probably had one of those already. Maybe two or three.
Earl: I needed to belong.
Anna: Why hogs?
Earl: The farm was for sale, and raising hogs is pretty easy. You can manage it almost entirely without going outside in sunlight, especially if you hire someone to help you.
Anna: Very useful.
Earl: Everything went reasonably well through spring and summer. Obviously, there was some trial and error in figuring things out, but nothing I can really complain about.
Zoe: What about feeding — yourself, I mean?
Earl: Why are you only interested in the morbid bits?
Zoe: Must have been hard to find blood to suck without attracting attention.
Earl: Actually, no. The town… well, let’s just say it was full of people no one would miss.