Thursday, November 21, 2013

"Happy Birthday Tina"

Can you feel the crackle of excitement in the air? Christmas has come early my friends. I have scored a piece of fictional gold from a famous Hollywood writer (for anonymity, we will call him... Dexter Pangborn). Enjoy!

“Happy Birthday Tina!” By Dexter Pangborn

OUT-GOING MESSAGE: "This is Tina. I can’t get to the phone right now, but please leave me a message. Bye-bye!"

Tina, it’s me. I hope you’re not screening me. Maybe you’re still out with your folks. I’m sorry I did what I did. I really am baby.  I was stupid. Selfish. Just...  Just selfish as hell. I really hope I didn’t ruin your birthday. I was going to give you a beautiful diamond bracelet, but... well, I dunno. The monkey seemed like a great idea at the time. I remember I was literally standing in front of the jewelry shop - that little one you like near the park - and I was about to go in and pick out your bracelet... but then something just came over me. A monkey. I was overcome with a fierce desire to buy the woman I love a monkey. I wanted to - No. I needed to give you the gift of a monkey. I realize now that that may have been a mistake. Mr. Poopers turned out to be a biter. Cute, yes, but he certainly likes to bite. I hope you’re using the cream the doctor gave you. Tina, baby... give me a chance to make it up to you, okay? Happy birthday honey. Please. Call me back.
 
 
"This is Tina. I’m busy right now, but please leave me a message. Bye-bye!"
 
Honey - baby - Tina... you have to stop screening me, I’m begging you. I really am trying here. I... I did something good, and then, maybe, I did something dumb too. I went out and bought you that bracelet. It really is beautiful Tina. As beautiful as you. No. Wait. You are definitely more beautiful. But it really is nice. I wanted to surprise you with it, so I went to your place and I was going to slip it through the mail slot in your front door. I had them put it in a pretty little gift box. I was about to slip it through when I noticed how big your mail slot is. It is freakishly big for a mail slot Tina. When I noticed this an idea came to me. I straight up admit, now, that this idea turned out to be very, very stupid. But it just kind of hit me and took hold. I realized that the mail slot was big enough for Mr. Poopers to fit through. He is a wiry little son of a bitch. I thought to myself: why not put your beautiful diamond bracelet around that silly little monkey’s scrawny neck and slip him through the mail slot into your place? Imagine your total surprise when you got home to find Mr. Poopers with your bracelet in... I know what you’re thinking Tina. And yes I have had a couple of drinks. Having to spend the love of my life’s birthday without her really made me blue. I hope you are still out with your parents. Do not, I repeat, do not try to grab or confront or otherwise engage Mr. Poopers.
 
As it turned out, getting him through the mail slot was an ordeal for the both of us. Well, mostly for Mr. Poopers. He’s small, but not as small as I thought. Getting him through that mail slot was... well, it was tough. He’s no doubt a very angry, possibly feral monkey at this point. I believe I heard him breaking things inside your place. I apologize in advance for that. Now, if you’d only have taken the next logical step and given me your apartment key - I did offer you mine - I could’ve gone inside to retrieve the little bastard, but no, you can’t seem to commit to a real relation-- I’m sorry baby. I love you. I... I’ll try to fix this....
 
 
"This is Tina. I’m busy right now, but please leave me a message. Bye-bye!"
 
Tina, Jesus, you’re killing me here! Please call me back, please baby. I... I did something I shouldn’t have done. And I don’t mean jamming an angry monkey through your mail slot. That was asinine, yes. Mea culpa, but... I did something else. I didn’t want you and your folks to come back from your birthday dinner - the one I was not invited to - I didn’t want you all to walk into your place to find an enraged, biting monkey wearing a bracelet that set me back two grand. I’m sorry. It’s rude of me to mention how much I spent. Three weeks pay by the way. So I climbed up on your roof and got into your place through your bathroom window. And believe me Tina, it was not easy. Your bathroom window is very small. You know, it made me realize what an awful ordeal I must have put Mr. Poopers through with that mail slot. It really made me stop and think baby.
 
So I got into your place and I followed the short angry grunts and snorts emanating from Mr. Poopers. He seemed to be everywhere yet no where. Monkeys, Tina, I don’t mind admitting after my experience, are very good at hiding. They really are. 
 
Tina. Baby. Sweetie. Your cat. Fluffy. As I looked everywhere for Mr. Poopers - and your wonderful diamond bracelet, you really are going to love it honey - as I searched high and low for that darn monkey, I never saw Fluffy. Now listen, I’m not saying, or even implying, that anything is wrong with your kitty. I am so not saying Mr. Pooper would harm a god-damn hair on that god-damn cat’s god-damn head. It’s, you know, just that I, uh, didn’t see Fluffy around your place. And I... well, I heard some odd noises - screeches maybe? Was it monkey screeches? Was it the sound a distressed cat would make if being bitten by a monkey? Well, I really couldn’t say baby. These are all very good questions. But I do know this: Holy shit is that diamond bracelet fucking beautiful. It really is.
 
Baby... I promise, I will go back into your place, find that fucking evil little monkey, save your sweet cat - if he’s still alive - and get your special, one of a kind bracelet that I really can’t afford. Because, baby I... I really do love you. I do.
 
I let your front door lock behind me, so I’ll have to climb back up on your roof and squeeze through your bathroom window again. But baby, I swear to God, I’ll make it all okay. I’ll fix it. I will. Happy birthday Tina. If it’s the last thing I do I’ll catch that god-damned monkey!
 
 
Postscript:  It was, in fact, the last thing Bill would do. He fell off the roof to his death. Mr. Poopers was never to be seen again. Fluffy the cat was found in a hamper, a beautiful diamond bracelet around her fuzzy neck... and a look of pure primal longing in her eyes.
 
 

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A writer exercising the writing muscle.