Melvina
Hi Heart Throb!
Hearts and flowers
Hi Freckleface Q. Diddypuss. What’s the Q for? I’ll have to ask Alexina. Who’s that? My electronic servant. This morning I programmed her to give me a shampoo. I think the soap crossed her wires. Well, yeah. Any dimwit knows. . . Can we change the subject? Sure! Yesterday a funny thing happened. . . Can we change the subject? Uh, the day before nothing was going on when all of a sudden. . . Uncle Melvin, I didn’t mean to be rude. That was Alexina. I turned her off. Please continue. All of a sudden the most important event in my entire life happened. . . Uncle Melvin, can we change the subject?
Will U be my Valentine? Of course! Will U be mine? Absolutely! XOXOXO
Furdian psychoanalysis
I have an electronic servant too. My servant just writes essays for school. I made that up about shampoo. Are you making it up? I’m not, and I can prove it. How? From now on when I ask what you’re up to I won’t put words in your mouth. My electronic servant . . . Does it have a name? Furd. Furd will put words in my mouth? No. Furd does mental telepathy. You’ll be putting words into Furd’s mouth. Gee, that’s terrific! When can we start? Whenever you’re ready.
Melvina’s exact words
My water polo team put on an end-of-season party for our coach, Meghan Melvin. While I was bringing food I tripped and a custard pie flew into Meghan’s face. Furd is smiling. One thing led to another and it broke into a food fight. Furd is laughing. A nice pizza delivery boy came and accidentally got hit in the face with a couple of Hostess Twinkies. It happened while someone was dumping a bowl of spaghetti on his head.
We were scraping glop off each other’s faces when, just like that, we fell in love. Furd stopped laughing. The deviled eggs did it. No, I think it was the pizza. They put too much hot pepper on it. So, Uncle Melvin isn’t your one-and-only. You’re not happy for me? I’m thrilled for you! But Furd. . . Can we change the subject?
Alexina + Furd
Maybe Furd and Alexina can be Valentines. Sure, as long as there’s a food fight. Furd needs cheering up. I’m off to the grocery store. What can I get? Lemon meringue pies and soft, creamy cakes with lots of icing. Oatmeal and tapioca pudding. Calves liver, raw fish. Egg salad, tuna casserole, macaroni and cheese – anything from Deli. Lots of possibilities! What do you think, Alexina? [Can we change the subject?]
Melvina’s Ultimate Qualifications for Employment
Ruthlessness
What’s with the purple robe and gold trim? I’m trying out outfits for my new job. Ha ha! Queen of the Universe. How did you guess? Uncle Melvin knows all, sees all. I was bored, looking for a little excitement, when I saw an ad. An ad for Queen of the Universe. Maybe I should add you to my retinue. That would keep me from being bored for sure. If you don’t mind flattering me with praise all day. Would I qualify for that? Sure! The applicants just have to be witless boobs.
What made you the winning applicant? They were looking for a young female artist who’s also a terrific athlete. So far, so good. Yes. But the qualification that blew them away was my softball batting average. Huh? The Queen of the Universe must command respect by being above questioning. Dismissing my Uncle Melvin’s friendly advice how to raise my abysmal average showed that I can be as mean as the most ruthless tyrant. Yes. By being cruel to a kindly old man, a helpless innocent victim.
Emblems of supremacy
Then you’ll have to be mean to your sister too. Definitely! It’ll be so delicious when she discovers that she’s only the ruler of a piddling little galaxy. I rule trillions of them. Bwah! Then I have the perfect outfit for you. Oh goody! A black cape instead of a purple robe, with a few accessories: Darth Vader’s helmet, jack boots, light saber, and the keys to the imperial bathroom. And one more, if you please: a cute little locket to wear around my neck with a red heart that says, “Will U be mine?”
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Mervina
The sad fate of Vaudeville
Hi Valentine!
Don’t you Valentine me, you two-timing bum! Who was that lady I saw you with? That was no lady. That was my wife. Ha ha! What’s so funny? That was a surefire laugh in Vaudeville. Everyone thought it was funny. Wives didn’t. That’s why Vaudeville’s motels all went out of business. Right. And why Vaudeville’s visitor center welcomed spiders with flies instead of people with maps. Vaudeville was depopulated because it was all husbands and no wives.
Where do you suppose all the wives went? To Kansas City. Uh huh. So they could make fools of themselves over Number 87. And I could make a fool of myself over Number 87’s Valentine. Uncle Melvin, she wasn’t making a heart with her hands for you. She wasn’t? You’ve broken a poor old man’s heart (sob!). Alright, I’ll be your Valentine. Anything to stop your blubbering. Oh thank you thank you! (weeping with sniveling gratitude).
The sad fate of the Anthropocene
What’s that sound? My soundtrack. Huh? It’s only fitting that the deeply moving trials and triumphs of my story be made more compelling by a Hollywood soundtrack. Like weepy music when America’s Sweetheart shows compassion for a pathetic boob. But then why am I hearing “Three Blind Mice?” Oh wait! I forgot to program my soundtrack for Valentine’s Day! It thinks you’re the Three Stooges. How could it do that? I’m only one stooge. It can distinguish between levels of intellect as well as emotion. It can even tell the difference between good and bad. It thinks you’re well-meaning but totally clueless. A three-for-one Stooge. Amazing!
My days start with a rousing John Phillip Sousa march. “The Stars and Stripes Forever” plays when I salute the flag. And when I need to flex my muscles at school it plays the soundtrack for the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht. Nobody objects? Some do like it better when it plays “Despicable Me.” Ah – Balthazar Bratt! If I’m annoyed by a Balthazar bully it plays ominous stuff. Like what? “The Terminator” is my favorite. But sometimes it takes “Jurassic Park.” What happened to gunfire and explosions? Blood-curdling screams from horror movies? It all part of everyday life. Nobody pays attention anymore. A sign of the times. The Anthropocene transforming into the Bullyocene.
Attack of the Gelatinous Alien Life Form LVIII
Maybe I should get my own soundtrack. . . . Is that snarling dogs? It’s my soundtrack warning you to stay away from my food dish. America’s Sweetheart isn’t running a charity, you know. She needs to protect her proprietary assets. The wiles that make her demure and irresistible. And rich. Yes. Watch the stock market when I go public with my invention. It’ll make Taylor’s $1 billion look like chump change. Wow!
All her fans will flock to me. Yes, and you can steal her boyfriend and pretend to be passionate about football. . . . What’s that? The soundtrack from “The Blob:” people fleeing for their lives from a gelatinous alien life form that engulfs everything it touches. The Kansas City Gelatins vs. the San Francisco Aliens. At the National Blob League’s premiere event: The Engulf Everything Bowl.
Schmaltz
Actually, I was hoping to use her fans to replace football. America’s Sweetheart taking away America’s favorite sport?? With something better: Valentine’s Day every Sunday with friends exchanging stuff that tells them how important they are instead of enemies trying to make the other side lose. Like “I love you soooooo much! Will U be my Valentine?” Of course! Will U be mine? [Soundtrack from “High Society:” Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing “True Love.”]