Jett (jatg) wrote,


ROGER:  Think Cary Grant
DOROTHY:  Think Doris Day
TIME:  Probably late 40s, early 50ies
WHY:  Because I love listening to Cary Grant talk in my head.  I also love the banter that goes on in old movies.  They really don't write great dialogue any more.  It's all snappy one liners and explosions.  Not that I'm claiming this is brilliant.  I just thought it was fun.

SCENE:  The living room, evening.  ROGER is sitting with his feet propped up reading a book.  Dorothy is also reading.

ROGER:  Darling...let me ask you something.  Do you prefer "Darling" or "Sweetheart" ?

DOROTHY:  Hmmm...sorry, did you say something dear?

ROGER:  See, that's just it.  "Dear."  I find I'm getting rather tired of it.  "Dear."  It's so...obvious and mundane.  I thought I might perhaps like something else.  And then I thought perhaps you would too...something else I mean.

DOROTHY:  Why, I hadn't really thought about it de...Roger.  Gladys Miller, down the street.  She told me once she would be absolutely delighted if James did more than make an occasional primal grunt in her general direction.

ROGER:  Well, that's what you should expect when you marry an anthropology hobbiest.  Perhaps he's simply trying to communicate with her at the most primal level.

DOROTHY: ANTHROPOLOGY hobbiest?!  Well,  I've got to hand it to you men...that's one of the most creative explanations I've heard one man give another to excuse boorish behavior.

ROGER:  Sorry darling,  you know we've got to maintain our solidarity or womankind would in quick turn be walking all over mankind as a whole.

DOROTHY:  Why dear...what an effort that would be.  To trample a field of men...awfully uneven ground and especially in high heels!

ROGER:  Yes, leaving little red geysers in their wake.  A field of punctured men.  What a wonderful image, thank you darling!

DOROTHY:  Oh you.  That's another thing you men seem to all seem to live in a mock fear of a vast feminine conspiracy just waiting for an opportune moment to topple your masculine little universe.

ROGER:  It's not little.  And no...I think you're giving men far too much credit.  We would never think such a thing...and do you know why?

DOROTHY:  Because you're MEN.  You're too stupid to think that far in the future.  A pretty leg or a hot apple pie and all preceeding thought has completely fled your cranium.

ROGER:  Exactly right.  Of course...what does it say about WOMANKIND as a whole?

DOROTHY:  Why, what on earth do you mean?

ROGER:  If mankind is so hopeless,  why does womankind put up with him?  What does it say about the collective SHE?

DOROTHY:  We're equally stupid I guess dear.  Well, smell that!  I think the pie is done!

Whaddya think sirs?

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