Myrna: “Although part of me, especially my disappointed hand that is clutching this depressing mess of tuna fish on a croissant, is desperately yearning for what you have to offer, another part of me is convinced that I should alert the proper authorities. You may have salacious intentions in mind, and I really don’t have the inclination or time for that.”
William: “What, you don’t want a bite of this sandwich? It’s quite exquisite. It has mayo smeared on both pieces of bread. This is something that no one else will think of until 1947.”
Myrna: “Well, I don’t know about that. Sandwiches have been around for hundreds of years at this point. Surely somebody has contemplated the concept of double dipping. Speaking of, what exactly is your other hand doing as it dips into your surprisingly voluminous pants.”
William: “I’m just counting my coins to make sure I have enough cab fare to get back to Sunset Boulevard, should our chemistry not quite gel in the screen tests for this movie and I have to resort to resurrecting Gloria Swanson’s career in order to have a compatible costar.”
Myrna: “Gloria Swanson? Are you sure that’s the right door to knock on?”
William: “Granted, she’s been wallowing in obscurity since the talkies were invented, but I’m willing to give her a boost.”
Myrna: “No, that’s not what I mean. I’m quite sure that Gloria would never tolerate a man who so brazenly reviews his cab fare in a public setting. What else do you have to offer that one might possibly relish?”
William: “I have the ultimate weapon. There’s bacon in this sandwich.”
Myrna: “Really? Crisp or soft?”
William: “Would I be wearing a hat like this if I didn’t have complete confidence in my crispness?”
Myrna: “I see. Well, I am rather fond of sturdiness when it comes to bacon, so I suppose we could negotiate some sort of compromise wherein we are both satisfied. But I do have one final question.”
William: “Ask away, my beloved carnivore.”
Myrna: “How is it that your tie remains firmly affixed to your chest instead of swinging about like ties are naturally wont to do? Is it the bacon grease?”
William: “Ah, then I have a question for you and your hesitant tuna. Have you ever heard of a tie clip?”
Myrna: “Indeed, I have. But I apparently misunderstood the purpose of such a phrase. I thought it was street language for a vasectomy, a procedure that might prove critical if we ever want world peace. Some prudent hedge-clipping would certainly shift the balance of power.”
William: “Oh my. That vivid imagery just might turn my bacon from crispy to soft.”
Myrna: “Isn’t that how you men always are? You are so determined when your bacon is crispy, but once you’ve eaten the sandwich you get all soft and you never call in the morning. Luckily, we’ve had this delightful conversation and we can just skip the tawdry pawing and sweating and grunting that occurs in the middle of the movie and get right to the conclusion. I don’t want your bacon.”
William: “Hmm. I suppose I should appreciate your directness, but it still feels like I’ve been tie-clipped, per the street. If you’ll allow, might I suggest that bacon in general may not suit your needs? It’s possible that you may require a more-specialized menu. Anyway, perhaps I should wander over to the next soundstage and audition for that movie.”
Myrna: “Excellent idea. I wish you and your double-slathered mayo the best. But before you go?”
William: “Yes?”
Myrna: “Could you leave the sandwich? I’ve tried the tuna and it just didn’t work for me.”
William: “Oh, so you’ve met Tallulah Bankhead?”
Myrna: “Who hasn’t in this town? She orders everything on the menu and doesn’t look back. Now, run along to that other soundstage. Hopefully you can find a compromising starlet who is satisfied with your antiquated philosophy which assumes mere bacon-ownership automatically makes you the better half of the sandwich. Have fun with that!”
On the other side of the still-rolling camera, Emily, the Production Assistant: “I don’t even know what to say at this point. My mind has been boggled since the third line of dialogue. Should we even keep this footage?”
Jack Conway, the Director: “Oh, honey, print it. It won’t make it past the censors, but it will be a hoot at certain cocktail parties.”
Emily: “But are we going to hire them? This is an audition, right?”
Jack: “Sure, hire them both. This is gold. We’ll have to take out all the bacon and tuna references, and probably the Tallulah bit, mainly because most people won’t get it and she has slept with tons of powerful lawyers, making this whole mess nothing more than a grilled-cheese sandwich in the end. But isn’t that what we always do in Hollywood?”
Previously published, modified and extended, most likely much more than it should have been. And yes, I know there’s that insipid “All Posters” watermark splashed across the image (didn’t see it? scroll back), but they obviously don’t have a copyright on the photo and I really liked the shot, so screw it. Post and done.
Cheers.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Those bacon bits sizzle.
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Until they don’t. Which takes about 15 minutes… 😉
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So, what kind of movie is this? Although suitably tie-clipped, he’s wearing Nazi stormtrooper boots, and is a lot more greasy than his bacon. And although she probably smells noticeably of fish, she looks like she fell out of a vat of peaches and cream. This wouldn’t be a remake of God I Had Wind, would it? I thought those romantic restaurant movies were out of favour. 😉
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“Libeled Lady” is actually a good movie, with some rather sly innuendo. I suppose I was making a tribute to such wittiniess but, as is often the case, I didn’t know when to stop…
P.S. The “God I Had Wind” angle? Lovely.
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My heart stopped at the mention of bacon.
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As do many hearts when it comes to bacon…
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I’ll never be able to enjoy a BLT without flashing on this image. Thanks for that…
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You’re quite welcome. It’s nice to know that my Bonnywood scribblings have a lasting effect, at least in some way…
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You are definitely the gift that keeps on giving….
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Conversation that leapt into my tiny mind after viewing the image:
“Hey Little Girl, Want Some Candy?”
“Little” Girl (aka Myrna): “That don’t look like no candy I ever saw. More like a rather disgusting bit of bread with something goopy on it. *ulp*”
Simon Le-Gree without the agent and PR Spin “It’s tasty and there’s a rumor that there’s really crisp bacon in there too!”
L.G. “I guess. it smells like fish though, and I’m sorry, but my MeMaw told me not to take anything from strange swarthy men. That’s how a good girl gets into trouble! Besides. GOOP. Ugh. Says it all.”
SLG: “Well this is going nowhere fast. Just like this comment.”
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Little Girl Myrna: “Who is this person that showed up with the extra dialogue?”
Little Boy Writer: “That would be my sister. Trust, she knows what she’s doing.”
LGM: “Oh. Is she a fancy writer from New York City?”
LBW: “No, she’s an unpretentious writer from Utah.”
LGM: “Huh. That seems a little off, doesn’t it?”
LBW: “She always makes me laugh, so get over it. Cut and print.”
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Those oldtime movies really knew their relationships. The man was in the saddle, and the woman was his horse. The two of them went galloping around until they could find a log cabin to raise a brood in. The resulting centaurs were cute as a button, no doubt.
— Catxman
http://www.catxman.wordpress.com
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But then the cabin blew up, which may or may not have been the result of poor choices during an inept round of S’mores consumption around a certain campfire. In the end, no one spoke of it again, because what’s the point in looking back when the horses you need are running away in front of you…
Your turn… 😉
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Hi Brian,
For some reason known only to WordPress, I haven’t been receiving emails about your posts? I sought you out today – I had thought you must be on a summer break.
Hopefully, I am back in the saddle again!
I would hate to miss a fabulous William and Myrna post.
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Hey Sheila!
I must admit that I was wondering what might have happened to you, but I didn’t fret too much as I’ve been blogging for years and I’ve learned that folks cycle in and cycle out. It’s just the nature of the passive beast. But then I just started getting notifications that you were visiting my posts again, and I was quite pleased. (I was unaware of this comment until now; I’m a bit behind with my responding, as is typical, for me.) You may have noticed some very recent activity on your own blog from me.
In any case, I just now hopped over to your blog and signed myself up for email notifications, so hopefully I’ll know when you muse poetic. WordPress has been very wonky for the past year or so, and lots of folks are suddenly unfollowing others through no intention of their own. As always, we have to figure out how to beat the system that to get what we need. Sound familiar?
Good to hear from you, and I hope you’re doing well.
B.
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Yes, back at ya, Bro Brian! So good to see you visit – that was exactly what I thought was that you must be taking time off this summer – plus I had another favorite blogger vanish around the same time. She, like you, attributed it to WordPress evil gods.
Regardless, so happy to be in touch again! Pretty and I have both been sick for 3 weeks this summer – no Covid, thank goodness, but turns out our granddaughter will be bringing her own germs home now that she’s gone to pre-pre-school. We worry now, of course, about sending the little one into such a precarious world.
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Oprah: “Things gonna change ’round here…”
Vin: “You’ve got balls, man, I’ve been told.”
Oprah: “YOU get a tinfoil hat and YOU get a tinfoil hat!”
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Hey there!
I’m going to assume that this comment was actually meant to be shared on the post AFTER this one. Then again, maybe not. Perhaps you’re trying to be wittily sly with the subversion, and I’m just not up to speed. (No surprise.) Or maybe it was a WordPress snafu? I really don’t know anymore. I’m just happy that we have food on the table and a relatively stable internet connection…
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Wait, what? Yes, your assumption is correct. I can only wish that I am so wittily sly but, alas, that is not the case. It was a snafu most likely caused by MY unstable internet connection. I was enjoying catching up on your blog, it is one of the things I look forward to most (next to the food on the table, especially if it is the kind left on the porch by my new bff, “driver from Door Dash”). I do recall my phone freezing and my annoyance at having to shut it down, re-start then frantically scroll to find where I left off and, ultimately, clicking the wrong link. Of course, it might have been more fun to reply with a simple “whatcha talkin’ about, Willis?”
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