Q&A: Young Writer–Dialog, what do you think?

Question by It’snot Important: Young Writer–Dialog, what do you think?
“I would like another drink, please.”
“You drank everything in the country. The bar’s closed—Come again soon, though, when you’re back in town.”
“Oh, damn you!”
Mr. Wolff turned around. “Damn me? I was the one who had to put up with you the whole bloody evening. Oh, just imagine what they’re saying about us now, just imagine…”
“Hypocrite!”
“I am not an Hypocrite. Don’t you call me that.” He unbuttoned his shirt.
“Benji,” Ms. Hallman got up and swiftly walked over to him as he took off his cufflinks. “I have just thrown up on some of the world’s leading authorities—now is not a good time to be sensitive! Now tell me, who won the bloody award?!”
Mr. Wolff turned to her before disappearing into the closet. “I’m not telling you.”
Ms. Hallman groaned. “I’m not asking you!” she cried, closing the closet door and holding it shut. “I’m threatening you, you crud!”
Mr. Wolff’s muffled voice sounded. “Now I’m definitely not going to tell you!”
She backed up, letting the door go. “I’m sorry, Benji, you’re not a crud.” she smiled.
The other closet door slammed open, making her leap back and cry out in surprise. “Am I still a Hypocrite?” thundered Mr. Wolff.
“Definitely.” she answered back defiantly.
“Then I’m not telling you.”
Ms. Hallman strolled away and into the bedroom. “Why don’t you love me, Benji?” she said sarcastically.
“What movie is that line from?” his voice sounded, making her whip around angrily.
“You crud! Answer the question! Why don’t you love me?”
“It didn’t sound like a question.”
“Oh, but you love that Zimmerman girl, don’t you, Benji?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” his voice echoed from the bathroom.
“Don’t play stupid with me! I saw the way you were fawning over her! You were talking with her all the bloody night!”
“Oh, that girl. Yes, yes—she was at our table while I was eating dinner. She was rather unpleasant, actually…”
“How cozy. Tell me, did she happen to carve her number in your steak for you, Benji?”
“Marian, lay off it,” he entered the room.
“Oh, whatever did I say? I was just inquiring, dear, about your new acquaintance. I’m sure in the inner recesses of your redundant mind, you were having thoughts about her—weren’t you, darling?” she said with a sly smile up into his face.
He clenched his fists. “Oh—Go to hell!”
“What’s this, Benji, a direct attack? That’s not like you Benji, not like you! Wit and parry, that’s more like you. Wit-and-parry!”
“Oh, it’s amazing how you can throw out verbally as well as you can nutritionally! If you can’t have your way, you make sure everyone else around you is completely miserable! You disgust me!” he took a drink, taking a pill along with it. “Oh, damn. I’ve lost count of my cold medicine. If I’m not up by nine, I’ve overdosed.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You’re a doctor of diagnostic medicine. You can help yourself if you kick off in the middle of the night. That, and we are somewhat immortal. Hmmm…”
“You’re a tough old bird, you know that, Marian. Tough to get at. Do you see my point?”
“You still haven’t told me about this Zimmerman girl. How old is she, Dr. Wolff? Seems a little too young, a little out of your league, eh?” she said, changing the subject and strolling out of the room, taking a bite out of an apple.
“You were right! We should never have come here! A building bursting at the seams with hypocrites, that’s all it was!” he sat down on the bed.
“Really, Benji? You should have pointed them out to me.”
“Hypocritical hypocrites! The love you and fawn over you on your way in because your English—but when you come out and they’ve experienced the lot of us, it’s ‘Oh, um, give us a call when you’re back in town!’ You should have thrown up on the lot of them!”
“That is redundant, you A-H.” said Ms. Hallman in a sarcastic and low tone.
“Oh, You think I don’t know what you’re saying? I can spell, you know!”
“Not without moving your lips, you can’t!”
“How extraordinarily astounding. We’ve only been here for two days, and you’ve already soiled the whole of American society.”
“It was already soiled when we got here.” she sighed. “I’m hungry,”
“Then eat!” he said loudly, opening his book.
“Alright, maybe I will.” she stumbled over and sat down on the couch, picking up the phone.
Mr. Wolff looked at her over his spectacles. “What are you doing?”
“Food.” she answered simply. “Ah, yes. Eggs Benedict, please.”
“You have to ask for Room Service first, twit.” said Mr. Wolff, resorting back to his book.
“Um…Room Service, please.” she pulled the phone away. “Twit and a half!’
“Oh, touché.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t anybody there? Oh, alright.” sighed Ms. Hallman. “That’s quite fine. Good night.” she set the phone down and got up, crossing the floor to the bathroom.
“Benji?” her voice came quietly and hesitantly.
Mr. Wolff, still reading, turned a page. “Yes,”
“Why don’t you love me?”
“Oh, we’re back to that, now, eh?”
“Answer the question! Why don’t you love me?”
Mr. Wolff sighed, closing the book, getting out of bed, and crossing to the bathroom. “Why don’t you love me?”
“It’s no use, It doesn’t work!”
“Alright then, I won’t. Just shut your trap now and then and I won’t. ” he said, walking over and promptly sitting down at the desk, looking at some research. She stormed out in a rage.
“You Fascist Swine! You woman hater! You heartless miser! You—you!” shouted Marian, stumbling and searching for more hateful things to say to him.
Mr. Wolff turned around. “Are you finished?” he said loudly.
“Maybe.”
“Good.” he said sharply.
There was an uncertain silence except for the rustling of research and the scritch scratch of pen on paper.
She stared at the back of his head, a softened look spreading across her face. “Benji?” she offered quietly, cocking her head. “Benji…”
He turned his head, glancing at her and then back to his writing.
She stood up hesitantly, walking over to him.
While he continued to work she kissed his unshaven cheek.
“You’re gorgeous,” she whispered into his wavy hair.
“Oh no.” he shook his head, shifting the papers and writing something on one.
“Gorgeous…” she sighed. “You’ll always have women falling all over you…”
“Uh-uh.” he made a quiet noise, denying, shaking his head slightly and opening a black book.
“…because you know how to treat them.”
“No.”
“So handsome…” she sighed into his hair.
“So drunk.”
“Wouldn’t you like to take advantage of me?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Best answer:

Answer by ❤ ❤bidadari-AlHurun’in❤ ^-^ ❤ ❤
<3 very nice and good writing! thanks I enjoy your posting :-) goodluck!

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