Someone said this about the behavior of Twilight fans: "If these were 40 year old men screaming for 17 year old girls, they'd be on To Catch a Predator so fast it would make your head spin."
NOTE: I saw Weekend at Barney's last night at last, and wrote this as soon as the Playbook detonated.
HIS APARTMENT
"Get the fuck out of here."
Jeanette looked up. Clearly she didn't expect that.
"I beg your pardon?"
Ted opened the door, stretched his hand outward, the classic get-out-of-here pose.
"You messed up my house. Because of a spam email. Get out."
Jeanette came to him, spread her arms around her, but he held her back.
"Why?"
"Enough is enough. I've had it with this motherfucking impulsiveness of this motherfucking relationship. You best strap in. I'm about to break the fuck up with you."
She swung her hand to his face, but he deflected it. Then he took a step backward and pushed her back at once, establishing their distance.
"What have I done?"
"Haven't you heard a word I said?"
"I thought you're joking."
"I'm not."
"All I did was break some stuff."
"Some stuff. I can't even see the floor."
"That's normal. I'm a woman. I can do whatever I like."
"You tore apart my trinkets, my furniture, my appliances, all without asking my permission. What's the word?"
"Eccentric."
"You are a psychopath, Jeanette! A woman who cannot respect the rights of others! A woman who has no self-restraint! A woman who was willing to risk an entire building burning just to chat with me! You are an anti-social person with aggression problem. I cannot imagine how the fuck NYPD hires you. You should be hold in a mental institution!"
"Oh, please. I—"
"Yes, you. But not me." Before Jeanette could do anything else, he took his phone and punched 911. Now all that remained was for him to thumb the green button. "Whatever happened between the two of us, I'm not going to take it anymore."
Jeanette tried to snatch his phone, but Ted dodged. Her face reddened in an instant. Sparks could have been shooting off his nostrils.
"Don't call them. I don't want to lose my job. You know spam just pisses me off."
"And that makes it all right for you to trash another person's apartment?"
"For God's sake, Ted, I'm only a woman!"
"What? A woman? What the fuck do you think is this? A TV sitcom? Where the audience are laughing when I found you trashed my apartment completely, and still laughing when you later said all this was because a spam email?
"Gotta admit it would make a good comedic scene."
"So you'll laugh at that."
"Yes."
Ted closed his eyes, took a long deep breath, and called 911.
"This is Ted Mosby." He said his address. "There's a crazy intruder in my apartment and I want her out."
Click.
Jeanette stared at him.
"Why?"
"You're not going to Houdini your way out of Karma this time, Jeanette."
"But—"
"If you are a man and I am a woman, will you laugh?"
Silence.
"Picture that scene again. Except this time you change the actors. Instead of a New York bachelor, you have Abby Elliott. Instead of a pretty twentysomething girl, you have a man at your father's age. Can you do that? Can you do that and still laugh?"
Still silence.
"Think. Think! Watch this scene: a man breaking down his girlfriend's apartment, leaving not a single furniture in one piece, and then he said to her, I did all this because I read a spam in my email."
Silence again.
"A man. Breaking plates, TVs, sofas, lamps, computers. Which belonged to his girlfriend. Because of a spam email. Would the audience laugh? Would you laugh? No! They—you would scream 'Abuse!' 'Abusive boyfriend!' 'Someone call the cops!' 'Arrest that boyfriend!' But because I am a man and you are a woman, you laugh."
Silence.
"This is the United States of America, 2013." He shook his head. "To think people could find that scene funny...it is past time to deconstruct this double standard."