NOT LOVE ACTUALLY
Question: what if Polly received a fake love letter from Speedy, Speedy a fake love letter from Francine, Francine a fake love letter from Guido, and Guido a fake love letter from Polly? Answer: one very interesting day.
This ficlet is inspired by 'Big Red' at the Edoropolis Emporium forum. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: my name is not 'sue' so don't go 'suing' me! Yes, that was lame … :)
Polly's Love Letter
N: It's a bright, sunny morning in Little Tokyo – but don't let that fool you. Lurking beneath all this sunshine and happiness is a sinister plot! YES! Our heroes are in grave danger. Not the usual danger, i.e. robots, Polly after a manicure, indigestion, etc. NO! It's worse than anyone could imagine – fake love letters. YES! Fake love letters are being leaked to the Pizza Cats from an unidentified source! It's sick. It's twisted. It's a waste of stationary …
(Scene: Polly at a shop stand before work, buying a drink for the road)
Polly: (talking to the shopkeeper) And a pack of gum, please.
N: Make sure that gum's extra strong. I can smell her breath from all the way –
Polly: (insulted) SHOVE IT! Oh great …
(She's accidentally spilled her drink all down her front)
Polly: See what you made me do? You BUM!
N: Lighten up! Now that it looks like you've peed yourself, your breath isn't so obvious.
(Wiping herself, Polly searches through her bag for some money, only to come across … )
Polly: What's this?
N: Looks like a prop!
Polly: (muttering) Idiot …
(After paying for her spilled drink and gum, Polly goes and sits at a near by bus stop. In her hand she holds an envelope that's been mysteriously placed in her bag. She rips it open. There's a letter inside … )
My dear Polly,
You are the spice in my meatball! The chow in my chowder! The pickle in my pickled eggs! The sodium in my tuna! The fairy in my floss! The butter that should be in my tub of 'I Can't Believe it's Not Butter'!
What I mean by all this is … Polly Esther, you're everything to me. Working alongside you all this time has made me realise you're the only girl l I could ever love. I like spice in a meatball. I LOVE chow in the chowder. Pickle flavour, sodium, floss, phoney butter, all of it!
Please be mine. Pretty please?
Love Speedy
P.S. I promise I won't ask you to cook me a pizza if you say yes!
Polly: (with her hand to her heart, exasperated) GOODNESS! I don't believe it …
N: Sounds accurate to me. When does Speedy NOT think of food?
Polly: Speedy wrote me a love letter. Me! A pretty weird love letter … (reading over the 'spice in a meatball' bit) … but then Speedy's a pretty weird guy.
N: This is true.
Polly: (putting both hands to her heart) I don't believe it!
N: Said that already.
(Next to Polly at the bus stop, a person sits with their head concealed behind a newspaper. They cough suddenly – though it sounds more like a laugh quickly disguised as cough)
Polly: (feeling intruded upon) I think I'll walk to work today … (stands up, while reading through the letter again) … the sodium in my tuna?
Speedy's Love Letter
Narrator: We now cross over to Speedy Cerviche, who's showed up to work early for once! Francine greets him with a warm smile and a pizza basket. Speedy looks like he'd rather be back in bed.
Francine: Good morning, Speedy!
Speedy: (grumpy) What's so good about it?
Fran: (passing him the basket) Late night last night?
Speedy: (nodding) 'Stargate' marathon.
Fran: Speedy, you're incorrigible!
Speedy: Yeah. But also loveable, right?
Fran: Right! Deliver that pizza in ten minutes, or it comes out of your wages.
Speedy: Hardass …
(Francine blasts Speedy into sky. While in mid-air, Speedy mumbles crankily to himself)
Speedy: I hate early morning deliveries! Who the hell eats pizza at nine o'clock? Haven't they heard of nutrition?
N: But you ate pizza for breakfast yesterday? It was five days old and jammed in the back of the fridge.
Speedy: (irritated) Was I talking to you? NO!
N: Only providing the facts! Viewers like to know these things when they type up your profile on their websites: likes 'Stargate', eats dirty pizza, often mistaken for a hobbit …
Speedy: Cool it with the short jokes, bud!
N: I was referring to your hairy feet.
Speedy: (diverting his attention from the Narrator to the pizza basket) What's on this brekkie pizza anyway, cornflakes?
(Speedy opens the lid, only to find … )
Speedy: Hey, a letter! With … my name on it? What the catfish?
(Curiosity overwhelming him, Speedy begins to read … )
Speedy: 'To my Speedy' … (touched) Aw!
N: Get on with it!
The following is brief proposal – a 'love letter', some might say – regarding (what will no longer be) my hidden intentions.
Speedy, I want to take our friendship to the next level. I've developed feelings for you, and I believe them to be romantic. I've thought it through, and concluded a life-partnership is in order. Think of our potential, Speedy! Your leadership combined with my managerial skills would make for an ideal match. We could set up joint accounts, run the Parlour side by side, buy property in our third year – a smart time to settle, I think. After all, marriage must be built on a solid foundation, and our children would benefit from the security home ownership provides. Ah! I'm running ahead of myself. There's plenty of time to talk about the logistics later.
Please notify me of a time when you'd like to commence our courtship. I for one am eager to begin!
Your life-partner,
Francine.
(Least to say, after finishing the letter Speedy is left feeling stunned … bordering on panic)
Speedy: (panic setting in) Courtship? Life-Partner? Children … FRANCINE!
N: WALL!
Speedy: AAAAAAHHHHHH!
(CRASH!)
Francine's Love Letter
Francine: I'm popping to the bank to pay our bills. Make some pizza dough while I'm gone and check the letterbox, okay?
(Scene: back at the Parlour, Guido has since arrived. He's sitting on one of the customer's chairs, balancing a pen on his nose)
Guido: (half-listening) I'm on it!
(Annoyed, Francine picks up a handy frying pan and throws it directly at Guido. It knocks him clean off his seat)
Guido: OUCH! Hey, you're stealing Polly's bit!
Fran: I didn't hit you with the pan, I threw it at you. There's a difference. Now get to work!
Guido: (sitting up, murmuring to himself) Who died and made her Director?
(Francine goes to her 'bills to pay' pile in the kitchen, collects a stack of envelopes and heads outside. As she walks down the street, she sorts through each envelope, only to fall upon … )
Fran: What … ? This isn't a bill.
N: Victim number three. Right on target!
(Putting the other envelopes under her arm, Francine takes a closer look at the envelope which isn't a bill. Opening it carefully, she retrieves the letter inside and reads … )
Dearest Francine
I dream of a day when our hearts will beat together in time. A day when I'll embrace your soft, tender lips with my own. A day when our souls will finally merge and become one! Allow me to confess Francine, being near you and withstanding the glare of your radiant beauty is agony for me – agony because it intensifies my unprofessed longing. My desire for you is like a wild tempest spurred on by the gods, storming through my body and kindling every inch of my loins! Before I met you, I never knew what true love was and the passion the soul can posses when the heart is on fire.
End my suffering, dearest Francine. I beg you. Hold me to your bosom and cure me of my agony! Let this day be the day I have always dreamed of.
Yours eternal,
Guido
N: What a bunch of flowery, romantic sap! Are we sure Guido didn't pen this?
Fran: (wide-eyed) WHAT IN THE NAME OF – AH!
(Francine blindly walks into someone on the street)
Person on the street: Watch it, missy!
Fran: (apologetic) I beg your pardon!
N: What's the matter? No one ever told you you kindled ever inch their loins before? Ha Ha!
Fran: (blushing) No! Or asked me to … (checking the letter) … hold them to my bosom! Honestly, what was Guido thinking?
N: Guido thinks?
Fran: Maybe he's been sniffing the fabric softener again. I told him it's not good for him.
N: And I repeat: Guido thinks?
Fran: (reading through the last part of the letter) 'I never knew what true love was and the passion the soul can posses when the heart is on fire'. Hey, I've heard him use that line on girls before!
N: Duh! He says stuff like that every episode. It's no wonder we've got any girls left on this show.
Guido's Love Letter
Narrator: Speaking of Guido, let's hurry back to the Parlour! He's currently busying himself in the kitchen, when Polly suddenly enters.
Guido: (looking her over while kneading dough) What happened to you?
(Polly doesn't answer him. She seems slightly out of it)
Guido: (speaking louder) Poll'?
Polly: Huh? Sorry Guido, did you say something?
Guido: I asked what happened to you. You look like you've peed yourself.
N: Told ya.
Polly: Oh … (vaguely recalling the spilled drink incident) … that's not pee.
Guido: (a tad concerned) Is everything okay? You don't seem like your usual, peppy self.
Polly: I have a lot on my mind all of sudden … (thinking solely of Speedy's letter) … I'm feelin' a little loopy. Can I do that?
(Polly refers to Guido kneading the dough. Guido thinks it's odd, but stands back regardless)
Guido: Be my guest!
Polly: Thanks … (pushing in front of him and taking over with far more vigour) … I need to do something with my hands! You know, release some pent up energy … (heartily clawing the dough) … AH! That feels good.
Guido: (feeling Polly and the dough should be alone) O … kay then. You sink your hands into that and I'll ah, go check the letterbox!
(Guido departs the kitchen and heads out the entrance to the front of the building)
Guido: (digging his hand in the letterbox) Let's see what we got … (filing through the mail) … junk, junk, junk, a bill! Fran'll be happy … (filing again) … junk, junk … hello, what do we have here?
N: You guessed it.
(Intrigued, Guido heads back inside the Parlour and sits down in the seat he occupied earlier. He dumps the mail on the table - except for a particular envelope made out specifically to him)
Guido: (wiggling his eyebrows in anticipation) Maybe I gotta secret admirer!
N: Oh, how right (and wrong) he is!
(Biting the corner off the envelope with his teeth, Guido pulls out the letter inside, casually leans back in his chair, puts his feet on the table and reads … )
Dear Sexy
Let's come straight to the point. Fluffy words have no place in this 'love' letter.
I WANT you Guido, and I know you want me. You make me so hot I can hardly contain myself. If I don't have you in the next twenty-four hours, I will strip that blue armour clean off your body and -
Guido: WHOA!
(Whatever the next line said, it makes Guido fall and crash off his chair. But he's soon back on his feet, and his eyes glued back on the letter)
N: Read it aloud, stud muffin!
Guido: (quickly hushing him) Quiet!
N: Oh, c'mon! What does the rest say? We wanna know!
Guido: I can't tell you, it's too … (thinking of a good word) … frisky!
N: Frisky?
(Ignoring the Narrator, Guido finishes reading the letter – including the last part, which says … )
Don't keep me waiting.
Polly xxx
(He reads over her name at least three times more, before allowing it to sink in)
Guido: (having breathing difficulties) Polly. Polly wrote this … (walking around in a circle, as if he's lost his way) … she wants to … with me … she … oh – my – god!
(On call, Polly comes out from the kitchen, leaning against the doorway and fanning herself with her hand)
Polly: Boy oh boy, all that kneading has made me SO hot! Do we have any ice, Guido?
(But all Guido can do in response to this question is gape at Polly, while thinking feverishly: "She's coming on to me already … she's actually serious!")
Guido: (losing it) Oh – my – GOD!
Polly: (shocked by his outburst) What's your problem?
(At that moment, Francine walks back in the Parlour. Guido gapes at her, before gaping back at Polly and then dashing out the entrance for some much needed air)
Guido: (repeating to himself manically) Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!
Fran: (confounded, looks to Polly) What just happened?
Polly: (shrugging) No clue! I asked Guido about ice, you walked in, and he freaks out!
Fran: Oh dear … (thinking Guido possibly 'freaked out' about her) … Polly, can we talk?
N: And the love letter fiasco continues! How will these soiled hearts cope with the rest of the day? How will the saga end? Could I sound more dramatic if I tried? Stay tuned!