Night time, Platypus Burrow. An imitation log fire flickers. Mr and Mrs P are on the imitation leather sofa. An open bottle of wine is before them, and is nearly empty. Their body language suggests a certain...friskiness
Mr P: Hey baby. You're looking hot tonight. What say we, get a... little closer [waggles eyebrows, puts on chicka bow wow record]
Mrs P: Oooh, charmer
Mr P: I'm in the mood for a little duck-billed, flat tailed action, baby. It's between June and October, and you know what that means
Mrs P: I do love it when you talk like that, and I love the way the light plays on your calcaneus spurs
Mr P: I want to run my sensitive snout through your dense brown fur
Mrs P. me too. My ovum is meroblastic for you, darling
[they retreat to the bedroom]
Mr P: Mmmmm, you like that baby?
Mrs P: Oh, yeah. I love it
Mr P: Oh, baby I'm hot now, let's do it
Mrs P: Oh, yeeeessss
Mr P: Get ready baby, 'cause here it comes
Mrs P: OK baby, I'm ready, let's.. YOU'RE NOT PUTTING IT IN THERE
Mr P: What?
Mrs P: You know my rule. It ain't going in there. Not again.
Mr P: But baby, we're monotremes. We only have the one hole
Mrs P: You men always say that. You'd say anything to get me to do... that... again. Well, I'm not having it. I'm not some common whore, Geoffrey. I'm your wife.
Mr P: But baby, it's true. We're members of the order monotremata, and we have needs and urges just like anyone else. C'mon, just this once?
Mrs P: I'm not that kind of girl! If you want that.... thing [her voice is contemptuous], then maybe you should try the Echidnas down at the docks. I hear they'll do just about anything for a ten dollar note and some grubs. Sluts!!
Mr P: Awwww baby...
Mrs P: That's my final word. You'll just have to go off to the bathroom and deal with yourself. I've quite lost the mood [she rolls over, signaling and end to the conversation]
Mr P: Oh for fuck's sake.