Audish.

I'm auditioning for an actors agency tomorrow morning. This is my monologue. I love the humour in this script.

JUNO

My dad used to be in the Army. He and my mom got divorced when I was five. She lives on a Havasu reservation in Arizona with her new husband and three replacement kids. Oh, and she inexplicably mails me a cactus every Valentine’s Day. And I’m like, “Thanks a heap, Cayote Ugly. This cactus-gram stings even worse than your abandonment.” My stepmom’s Brenda. She’s obsessed with dogs, owns a nail salon called ‘Bren’s Tens’, and she always smells like methylmethacrylate.

Juno Macguff. That’s my name. And the lady behind the bulletproof glass at the waiting room for Women Now – who allegedly help women now – thinks I’m using a fake name. Like Gene Simmons or Mother Teresa. She tried to give me these weird condoms that looked like grape suckers, and she told me about her boyfriend’s pie balls, and Su-Chin Kuah was there, and she told me the baby had fingernails. Fingernails! So. I’m staying pregnant.

I was thinking maybe I could give the baby to somebody who actually likes that kind of thing. You know, like a woman with a bum ovary or something. Or some nice Lesbos.

But come on. I can’t scope out wannabe parents in the Penny Saver! That’s tacky. That’s like buying clothes at the Pump ‘n Munch. I was thinking more like a graphic designer, mid-thirties, and his cool Asian wife who dresses awesome and plays bass. But I’m trying to not be too particular.

Because, you know, hey, this’ll all be resolved in thirty-odd weeks. And then we can pretend it just never happened. I mean, I’d give it away now, I would. But it probably looks like a Sea Monkey at this point, so I think we should leave it in there for a while until it gets cuter, you know.

Juno MacGuff and Paulie Bleeker