A consonant goes into a bar and sits down next to a
vowel. "Hi!" he says. "Have you ever been here before?"
"Of
cursive," she replies. "I come here, like, all the time."
He has never
metaphor, but he can tell from her accent (which is kind acute) that she is a Vowelly Girl. He looks her over. She's short and has a nice simile. *She sure is a cipher sore i's!* thinks the consonantal dude. He remains stationery, enveloped by her charm. *And what an uppercase!*
His initial reaction is so pronounced, he doesn't know what to say. He is, at present, tense. "You've a lovely set of...teeth," he sputters. "Do you Crush with breast...I mean, do you brush with Crest?"
"Gag me with a spoonerism! Your mind is in the
guttural, fer sure."
Admiring her figure of speech, he falls into a fantasy. He pictures a perfect wedding: They exchange wedding vowels. The minister says, "I now
pronouns you man and wife." They kiss each other on the
ellipses. "I love you, noun forever," he whispers. In a word, they are wed.
The
conjugation is in tiers.
He awakens from his daydream and proposes a dance.
After a slight
parse, she declines.
"Then would you like a beer? Alcohol the bartender--"
"I bitter not," she says, falling silent.
Ferment there, she looks like she's going to bee(
sic).
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"I'm, like, under a lot of stress. I've got a yeast
inflection."
"I knew something was brewing." He calls the bartender. "Listen, bud, my beer is warm." The bartender takes the bottle and empties it into the sink. The
dude watches as his hops go down the drain.
"Let's go outside," he says to her. "I'd like to have a word with you."
Are you prepositioning me?"
"I won't be indirect. You are the object of my
preposition."
"You're, like, *such* a boldfaced character!" she says, baring her
clause.
"I see your point. But I'm font of you. C'mon, let's go."
"Do I have to SPELL it out to you? You're not my
type, so get off my case!"
Reluctantly, he decides to letter B. "Now my evening lies in
runes," he laments. "I'm practically comma-tose."
"You'll get over it. You're just going through a
phrase," she says.
"That's one way to express it," he says, suppressing an
expletive.
He leaves, hoping to have letter luck next time.
--Gary Roma; from "SPELL/Binder" Sep/Oct 1995, p.8 (for a considerably expanded, updated version click
here)
Thanks Gary. I placed a link above for your update. A pleasure to hear from the creator of "Love Letters". Oh, and an interesting coincidence: I HAVE a cast-iron frog doorstop! Purchased from Smith & Hawken years ago...
To view an updated version of my "Love Letters" story, please visit http://www.ironfrog.com/comedy/loveletters.html. This story will be included in an upcoming book of puns that I'll be publishing later this year.
Gary Roma
Oroboros, how could I have missed this until now? Hilarious! Very Dad joke-like. :-)