Eavesdropping on the gays is the surest way to find out what products and people are hot and what are not. Rod Townsend records the gays in and around their natural environment of Fire Island and reports back. All dialogue 100% verbatim.

INT. THE FIRE ISLAND PINES PIZZERIA

The pizzeria is semi-busy with a short line of men ordering fresh hot food served quickly, a rarity on Fire Island. "Low Tea" has ended and many are seeking sustenance before heading along to "High Tea" and/or Lina's party at Sip 'N Twirl. Behind the counter is PIZZABOY, wearing a pizzeria logo-emblazoned green polo, modified to be sleeveless. The order of a chicken caesar wrap is being taken from ATHLETWINK, wearing Nike basketball shorts and crewneck American Eagle tee shirt.

PIZZABOY
That'll be a couple minutes, so go ahead outside and I'll bring it out to your tab— (He raises his right hand to the area just to the side of his right eye.) Oh! No! No!

ATHLETWINK
Dude. You okay?

PIZZABOY
A fucking mosquito just bit me. On my face. Is it swelling?

ATHLETWINK
(Leaning in to examine PIZZABOY's face.) Not yet. (Staring into PIZZABOY's eyes.) Does it hurt?

PIZZABOY
No. But I don't want some ugly mosquito bite on my face.

ATHLETWINK
It looks fine. I have them all over my back. (He lifts shirt to demonstrate a collection of mosquito bites.) I put cologne on them. Takes away the sting.

PIZZABOY
But they're still really swollen. I'm going to Pavilion later. This so fucking sucks.

Behind ATHLETWINK is PROPERTYOWNER, a man with salt-and-pepper hair and deep tan wearing an fundraiser-logo tee and Levi's loose-fit jeans. He steps forward to the counter.

PROPERTYOWNER Put a little dish soap on it. It'll take away the sting.

PIZZABOY
Dish soap? Oh no. No. No. No. I'm not putting dish soap on this face. I have some Kiehl's astringent at the house. I have to take care of this. (He calls back to the kitchen.) Michael! Come up front. I have to leave for a minute.

PIZZABOY leaves for the Staff House, located across the boardwalk from the restaurant. Later, ATHLETWINK sits at an outdoor table with BARTENDER, wearing a black tank top, ecru corduroy shorts, and a black backward-facing baseball cap. Their food consumed; they are now drinking Diet Cokes.

ATHLETWINK I have to leave my shirt on the whole time. Those bites look like acne. People are going to think I'm on steroids.

BARTENDER
You'd have to be a little more built for people to think that.

ATHLETWINK
What are you saying?

BARTENDER
Don't get me wrong. You look good, but if you were on steroids (He leans in and touches ATHLETWINK's chest) you wouldn't just have pecky-pecs; you'd have some real muscletitties.

ATHLETWINK
That's not the look I'm going for anyway, but whatever. The shirt stays on.

BARTENDER
So you say now. Two Planter's Punches later and it'll be a different story. Mosquitos are just the beginning. I was at Gabriel and Jim's place on the bay today. All the jellyfish are starting up.

ATHLETWINK
In the bay? I thought they lived in the ocean?

BARTENDER
They grow up in the bay and I guess they swim over. And after the jellyfish come the bitey green flies. And there's always the deer ticks and the Lyme disease.

PIZZABOY returns to the restaurant. His hair, formerly down and parted, is now spiked and gelled.

ATHLETWINK Feeling better, baby?

PIZZABOY
Oh yes, honey. Took a quick shower. Put some astringent on the bite on my face and the one on my ass.

BARTENDER
Your ass? Been out in The Meatrack, huh?

PIZZABOY
Shut the fuck up, Hugo. The mosquitos fly up my shorts.

ATHLETWINK
I bet everybody flies up your shorts. What moisturizer are you wearing? Your skin is glowy.

PIZZABOY
I've got some great Kiehl's stuff, but that's just Deep Woods OFF!


Previously: The Lowest Tea