PDA

View Full Version : In Love with a TV



rubisco
March 10th, 2012, 08:07 PM
Hola! Quick intro first. This is a small piece of a fairly long story I started ten years ago. As you will see, it occurs in a fairly surreal place (where people burst out into song kind-of-surreal). Just wanted to see how people react to it. (The actual title of the long story is "Dirt", but since this part has absolutely nothing to do with the title, I retitled it appropiately). Enjoy!

Yo! You! Yes you! You sitting on your couch listening to your radio and not driving one of our fantastamundo, superiferious, and terrificastic new cars! ‘What’s that?’ you say, ‘New car?’ YES! YOU BET WE SAID NEW CAR! ‘But,’ you say, ‘how can I obtain this wonderfulastic and spifferific new car?’ Well, just come to Handsome Johnny’s car dealership this week—‘whoa,’ you interrupt, ‘if I don’t have one of your breathtaking automobiles, how can I get to Handsome Johnny’s?’ Well my friend! Chances are someone you know already has one of our uberful autos, and you can mooch a ride off them! So just have your friend, family member, or dentist drop you off at Handsome Johnny’s, and we’ll let you, YES YOU!, drive off the lot with one of our new, new, new, new, new cars, cars, car”—CRASH!! The hammer came down and decimated the radio as if the radio were Sodom itself. The radio was quickly split asunder, and its many separate and distinct pieces flew dangerously across the apartment and embedded themselves into the wall and elsewhere.

A gorgeous blond that looked like she belonged on the cover of some laundry detergent box ran into the room. She looked at the mess that had suddenly appeared while she was building a card house in the kitchen. She had her card house just right, just perfect, and just a wonderful 57 stories high when all of a sudden a piece of plastic flew in the room and decimated her wonderful, beautiful, and dare she say, sexy, card house. Now there were also numerous holes in the walls of her apartment, how was she going to explain this to the landlord? She was obviously very, very annoyed. "Jack! What did you do?!" she screamed while holding her hands to her head as if she was afraid it would just topple off her neck at any moment.

Jack Ronald stood before the former place of the radio with his hands cradling a hammer behind his back. An utter look of surprise appeared on his face as he said, "Who? Me? Oh no Wendy, it wasn't me, it was...was...." He plopped down upon the sofa in front of the TV and pounded his forehead with the hammer, hoping that something intelligent would come out.

Wendy brushed her blonde hair out of her eyes in exasperation. She walked over to Jack, snatched the hammer out of his hands, and quickly threw it away to prevent Jack from doing any more damage. The hammer flipped through the air as it tore a hole through the wall and burst into the bathroom to shatter the porcelain tank of the toilet. Water started flowing all over the floor.

"Did you destroy the radio?" asked Wendy angrily as she wondered why her feet were getting wet.

"I didn't do it Wendy!" exclaimed Jack. "It just blew up! Our radio was suicidal! Who would have guessed? I even read stories like this in this book!" Jack held up a book entitled, UNDERSTANDING RADIOS FOR IMBECILES, DOLTS, AND PEOPLE WHO WOULD BUY THIS BOOK.

Wendy continued to glare at Jack and his receding brown hair and couch potato physique. She was amazed at how fast Jack’s body changed from the handsome and muscular body of the day of their marriage, which was only yesterday.

"I thought we were over this Jack. Didn't the counselor say that if our marriage was going to work out you would have to overcome your inclination to destroy things? Even your shrink said the same thing, and just yesterday the cashier at WAL-MART said . . ."

"I know Wendy, but I didn't do it! It was EL NINO!"

"Fine Jack, believe whatever you want, but don't be surprised when I go walking out of this door to leave you."

"You can't be serious Wendy!" exclaimed Jack. "I love you more than anything else. I love you more than...than...," He looked at the 92-inch TV that took up much of the room. He realized what he was looking at and slapped himself. "...than this radio!" he declared as he pointed at the now vacant spot where the radio once stood mightily.

"My heart is runneth over dear," commented Wendy with a roll of her eyes, and she walked out of the room in disgust.
She stumbled into the kitchen of her apartment dazed and confused. Jack was such a sweet guy before their marriage; he seemed perfect. Then all of a sudden he transformed into the king of all slobs; he constantly watched TV and the only time he ever spoke to her was when the TV was acting up. She leaned against her white kitchen wall with one of her hands and started singing:

"What's the matter with Jack?
What's the matter with Jack?
One day he was white; the next he was black
All I ever did was only to please him
But when he was smart; now he is dim
Now he is fat where he was thin
He seems to deteriorate before my very eyes
So after all it should be no surprise...
THAT HE IS THE KING OF ALL SLOBS! (music quickening)
Rudeness and and dirt tremble at his feet
He consumes everything he desires
He scares everyone he tries to meet
By the amount he perspires!
Where once my sweetheart lurked
Is now the realm of a jerk!
WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH JACK?!"
A white man in a black suit stepped out of the dishwasher, walked up to Wendy in a suave fashion, and began singing:

"He's in love with your TVeeeee," sang the man as an answer to Wendy's question. Wendy started to dance around the room to get away from the man.

"I refuse to believe it!" sang Wendy, twirling around the kitchen table, scattering cards everywhere.

"He's in love with your TVeeeee," replied the man in a deep baritone, singing along and following her around the kitchen.

"When we first met, you should have seen it!" sang Wendy.

"He's in love with your TVeeeee."

"Yesterday the kitchen, he cleaned it!"

"He's in love with your TVeeeee."

"Carrying me up the stairs, he did it!"

"He's in love with your TVeeeee."

"It can't be true!"

"He's in love with your TVeeeee."

"Oh just shut up!"

"He's in love with your TVeeeee."

"Get out before I kick your sorry butt!" Wendy sang, advancing toward the man. The man stopped singing.

"I'm telling the truth," he said with earnest and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"He can't be in love with my TV!" exclaimed Wendy. She walked back into the living room and stomped over to Jack, who was watching her 92-inch TV. "Are you in love with my TV?" she asked him.

Jack continued to stare at the TV. "Of course not, will you grab two beers?" he replied in monotone.

"Two? Why on Earth do you need two beers?!" Wendy exclaimed. Perhaps Jack was in love with beer, but he was not, Wendy told herself, in love with her TV.

"One for me, and one for the TV," Jack said in a no-duh exclamation. Wendy felt relieved; the man from her dishwasher was lying. If he truly was in love with the TV, both beers would be for the TV. But what was the matter with Jack? If he kept up being this slob for . . . forever, since that was how long they were going to be together, she wouldn't be able to handle it. She walked back into the kitchen very puzzled.

Thank goodness she’s gone, thought Jack. He jumped up and cringed as a sharp pain seared his side. He wasn’t used to moving that fast. He spun around and danced to the light switch and dimmed the lights and moved over to the stereo and turned on some rough jazz. He personally couldn’t handle smooth jazz; the sound waves just slid off his eardrums. At least the rough jazz adhered better, and he could actually absorb some of the sound waves. Jack sighed, it was tough having lazy eardrums; they practically had to be spoon fed.

He grinned mischievously at the 92-inch TV and slid up to it and attempted to put his arms around it. “So how is the love of my life doing today?” he crooned into the 92-inch screen. “What’s that? Her? Say no more, my love. She will never come between us. My love for you is like a cockroach—it will never die. It also skitters away when you turn the light on . . .”

Jack blinked a few times with realization—that probably wasn’t the best simile to use in this situation. Oh well, it practically never did, and the TV never talked back so it didn’t matter. Jack took a deep breath and tried again.

I love you more than beer, and. . . .” he continued with a serious face, “that is saying a lot. I love you more than chips . . . and cheese . . . and nachos. I love you even more than . . .” Jack glanced around, ran outside, jumped in his car, and drove to Montana.

He stopped in the middle of a freeway in the middle of nowhere and silently whispered into his glove compartment, “. . . than Wendy". He listened. To his horror he saw a ripple in the air behind him coming toward him with the exact velocity of the speed of sound. Jack put his hands over his ears.

"I HEARD THAT!" shrieked Wendy's voice when the ripple passed over his car. His car rolled over a few times from the force of the sound wave.

Jack slapped himself for not wearing a seatbelt as he bounced around in his car as it tumbled down the road. He would have thought he would have learned by now to buckle up. He still had no clue how Wendy did this, and Wendy never mentioned doing it, which made these situations even weirder. The car finally rolled and skidded to a screeching and grounding halt, upright no less. This day was looking promising; typically he rolled into a gully, gulch, or some other depression in the Earth’s crust that started with a ‘g’.

His life had quite the conundrum currently. He was with a woman whom he married simply because . . . because . . . um . . . . Well, he never could explain it without doing his routine. Well, in the middle of Montana, by golly, he was going to do it. He jumped out of his car and began to sing and dance around:

"Oh I married my wife with the intention of loving
I saw her coming down the church aisle a-coming
But she had different thoughts than mine
Different from the ones that ran through my mind!
She thought that I was in love with her
But very thought brings me all just a-shiver!
She thought I was the perfect man that could beeeee!
But she didn't realize I was in love with her TVeeeeeee!"

Several bikers that were passing by stopped to listen to Jack. Then they all got off their motorcycles and joined him.
"TVeeeeeeeee!" the bikers echoed
Jack and the bikers linked hands and ran around in circles and then jumped on top of Jack's car and started to dance and sing:
"She expects everyday that I bring her flowers
But I prefer to press the button on the remote that says 'Power!'
I wouldn't mind sharing the sofa with her
But she wants control of the remote. What nerve!"
"What nerve!" the bikers echoed
Jack did a flip off the top of his car, got in the driver's seat, and continued to sing with the bikers still dancing on top of his car:
"She thought I was the greatest man that could beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Too bad she didn't realize I was in love with her Tee Veeeeeeeeeee!"

Jack drove off and several bikers fell off his car. He drove all the way back to the apartment Wendy and he were renting. He walked around to the back of his car and scraped off a biker who was still clinging to his rear windshield. The biker fell down with a curse. He walked in the door and plopped down on the humongous groove in the sofa. "Good, I didn't miss anything," he commented.

bazz cargo
March 11th, 2012, 02:53 PM
Hi Rubisco,
This is seriously weird. I felt like I was reading the script of an episode of a soap with bits of popera shoehorned in. Possibly a sketch. I liked the modern romance of electrical goods. The violent rejection of the radio, the lure of the sexy television. I also liked the style of voice, not sure how it would play to a wider audience. This seemed more of a visual thing, or a radio thing, rather than a straight froward jokey story.

I didn't spot any spag errors, but I'm not the best at doing so.

Have you looked at the LM?

Very entertaining, thank you for sharing.

ClusterChuck
May 23rd, 2012, 06:29 AM
Script this, record it, send it to BBC radio. This is seriously good stuff. A bit rough in the beginning. Picks up smartly. Very weird is severly refreshing on a site where so many are taking themselves way too seriously, even in the humor threads. Good read.

Don't abandon this piece. You should even consider using it as direction to an expanded universe. I want to know more about the salesman.

Also have you seen a show called Xavier: Renegade Angel? I think it'd be right up your alley mate.