Ramon, left: “My love, I don’t quite understand why my affections don’t have you on the verge of ovulation.”

Evelyn, right: “Really? Well, let me help you out a bit, although I’m not quite sure where to start. Oh, screw that, let’s start with you doing everything you can to keep your lips from getting anywhere near mine. I would have a better chance of getting aroused in the middle of a root canal.”

Ramon: “Perhaps you’re just not used to men who can do more than grunt and paw and flee the scene of the crime the very second the pregnancy test comes back positive. I was merely trying to be a gentleman.”

Evelyn: “No, I’m thinking you’re just disappointed that I’m not a gentleman. I smell a rainbow around here somewhere.”

Ramon: “I’m appalled that you would even go there. Whatever would make you think such? Did you experience a lot of disappointment at one of those tawdry county fairs that I’m assuming you attended in your misguided youth? Were you stunned to learn that your cherry pie did not win first prize?”

Evelyn: “As if you would know a fine slice of pie if you ever saw one. But I can dish back. Let’s start with the foofy little symbols on your collar. No straight man would leave Wardrobe wearing something like that.”

Ramon: “It’s clear that you did absolutely no research for your role whatsoever, so I’ll try to guide you toward the light, Carol Anne. These symbols are appropriate for the time-period of this drama. Roughly translated, they express how the rapture of our love-making can lead to a bountiful harvest and a pleasing alignment of celestial bodies.”

Evelyn: “You’re not stiffening your manhood by saying nerd-geek crap like that.”

Ramon: “Really? Well, then, let’s talk about what you are wearing. Did your corset explode at some point?”

Evelyn: “Now, you can’t really blame me for that. There was a lot of broccoli on the craft services table. Green roughage can take out this entire planet.”

Ramon: “And that hair of yours? Did you lose a fight with a gardening implement?”

Evelyn: “There you go again with words that a straight man wouldn’t use. This scene is a wretched mess.”

Director: “And cut! That’s a wrap.”

Ramon: “Are you kidding? That was the most unromantic dialogue ever uttered.”

Evelyn: “What she said.”

Director: “I don’t care what you fools were babbling about. This is a silent movie. Sound hasn’t been invented yet. No one will know that squat-tag did not ensue when we do the title cards.”

Ramon: “But it seems a bit dishonest. Shouldn’t we do another take?”

Director: “Oh please, Ramona. This is Hollywood. We can take nothing and turn it into something. If it wasn’t for the magic of the movies, most people would still be scribbling stick figures on cave walls in southern France.”

Evelyn: “You seem like a straight-shooter, in more ways than one. What are you doing after we finish our scenes this evening?”

Director: “I’m not doing you, that’s for sure. I was on the pie-judging committee at the Beaver Valley County Fair, and I know what you did last summer. You have absolutely no respect for fruits. In more ways than one.”

Ramon: “Hmm. It seems like that might be an underhanded poke directed at moi.”

Director: “Trust me. If I was directing my poke at you, there would be no confusion about my intent. After all, I actually earned my blue ribbon at the county fair. ‘Best in Show’ at the bull competition. I would have won the pole-vaulting tournament as well, but I was disqualified for not using a regulation pole, if you catch my drift.”

Evelyn: “I’d love to catch your drift. My glove is warmed up and ready to go.”

Director: “As I’ve already mentioned, Lady Snatcherley, I won’t be crossing your home plate at any point in this lifetime. Now, let’s get back to work. We’re wasting time and losing daylight.”

And thus went another day on the set of “Indiana Joanie and the Quest to Slip Naughty Innuendos Past the Censors”. Sadly, the finished film was a miserable mess, and the director sued to have his name removed from the credits, forcing the producers to use the pseudonym of “Throb the Wonderbull” instead…

Original Note: Previously published. Extensively revised for this post, but I’m not sure there is any actual salvation for this mess…

New Note: Additional modest changes made, although nothing can counter the immodesty of that proffered cherry pie at the county fair. Bonus trivia points to those who can identify the source of the “Carol Anne” movie reference, the more-obscure “Lady Snatcherley” literary reference, and the completely obscure “Wonderbull” talk-show reference. Don’t trouble yourselves if you can’t hit the trifecta, as none of it is important, whatsoever. Such is Bonnywood.

Cheers.