"Let me tell you what 'Like a Virgin' is all about. It's about a girl who digs a guy with a big dick. The whole song is a metaphor for big dicks."

That is the first line in both the movie and theatrical versions of Reservoir Dogs. It is said by a character called Mr. Brown. In the movie version, Quentin Tarantino (the writer and director) played the part of Mr. Brown. For six weekends and eighteen performances in the theatrical version at the Vortex Theatre in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the part of Mr. Brown was played by me.

"Whoa, whoa. Time out, Green Bay. Tell that fucking bullshit to the tourists."

If you've seen Reservoir Dogs and don't remember which one was Mr. Brown, it's very forgivable. It is a moment role (never call them small), and aside from his theory about a Madonna song, he has very little to say. If you've never seen Reservoir Dogs at all, it is a time-jumping tale about diamond thieves dressed in black suits and white shirts. If you don't know about Quentin Tarantino, his violent and kitchy films of the mid-90s like Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown (no relation) brought a fresh and heavily-copied style to the movie industry. In short, Reservoir Dogs is a must-see for film geeks.

"Hey, fuck all that. I'm making a point here. You're gonna make me lose my train of thought."

To capture my look of Mr. Brown, I went back to the grunge-esque facial hair popular about five years ago. Mustache with a little handle bar action, a long V-shaped goatee, lamb chops, and slicked back hair. Mr. Brown was an asshole, and it wasn't long before I incorporated a punkish attitude with an all-encompassing mantra of Fuck All That. I would warm up most nights by walking around the theatre, shouting and enunciating very clearly those three words. To say that attitude didn't bleed into my everyday life would be an outright lie.

"It's about this cooze who's a regular fuck machine. I mean all the time: morning, noon and night. Dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick."

I wasn't the only asshole in the play. In fact on certain level, every single character was an asshole. Mr. Blonde shot up innocent people, Mr. Pink rambled and paced up and down like a weasel, Mr. White had compassion for only those he liked, Joe and Nice Guy Eddie set the whole heist up. We were all criminals. Except for the cops. And let's face it, they were assholes, too. The funny thing is that I wasn't originally supposed to be in the cast. I auditioned and was never called. When a friend of mine playing Mr. Brown dropped out, he recommended me to replace him. That was one of the biggest blessings and curses I have ever received.

"Now she's getting this serious dick action, and she's feeling something she ain't felt in forever. Pain. Pain."

The cast of ten and crew of five were a tight bunch. Everyone of us were individuals who brought a uniqueness to the production. Mr. Blue and I had the special bond of being on stage the least, so naturally, we were backstage together the most. If it wasn't for my Act I beer and the conversations with Blue, Joe and the cop who gets his ear chopped off, the six week run could easily have been excruciating.

"It hurts. It hurts. And it shouldn't hurt. Her pussy should be Bubble Yum by now, but when this cat fucks her, it hurts."

After our sixth week, something no one foresaw happened. Terrorists attacked America, and the World Trade Center and the Pentagon endured their wrath. Suddenly, a play about wise cracking criminals with guns didn't seem so important, and no one wanted to take pride in being offensive. The cast split into three camps. Some wanted to continue the run that was slated for two more weeks, some thought it should stop, and one refused to continue altogether. As a result, the final two weeks of the run were canceled. With six weekends, eighteen shows, more than a handful of standing ovations, and making out with three different women on separate occasions, Reservoir Dogs as a project ranks as the most memorable play I've ever been involved with, and I'm as proud of what we accomplished as a group as much as anything creatively I've done. We were a bunch of motherfuckers, and we rock n' rolled every night.

"You see, the pain is reminding the fuck machine what it was once like to be a virgin. Hence, 'Like A Virgin.' "

Now, my black suit hangs unused, my face is shaved, and I cuss much less. But when I hear people ramble on and on about what THEY think about what is personally happening to THEM and THEIR beliefs, I have to hold back the instinctive urge to get in THEIR face and shout out the mantra Fuck All That.

"Yeah, but Mr. Brown? That's kinda close to Mr. Shit."

He wasn't kinda close. He was dead on.

Chris Jungle did not get laid during the entire run. Was it something he said?