The Soupy Toasterson Show #01

(B. Schatz)

The Soupy Toasterson Show
Created by B. Schatz

#01: Where He Keeps His Memories.
Written by B. Schatz

July 2005.

“You’re an idiot.”

The television woke Soupy up with those kind and gentle words, and Soupy, in response to this kindness, cursed.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” Soupy mumbled as he pulled himself up slowly to a sitting position, “What possess’ you to be so cruel?”

“Well, I’m staying here with you, aren’t I?” it replied, “A sane person would’ve left this place years ago if they had to live with you.”

“I’d be offended by that if you had legs,” Soupy explained, rubbing his eyes.


It was at this moment he realized he is having an actual conversation with the television set. That meant one of two things: one; someone or something had turned the television in his room on, or two; he had previously woken up, drank an entire bottle of STDs and fallen ill, only to gain consciousness without any memory of the incident and would shortly die from too much chlamydia.

He didn’t feel like dying today, so he was quite grateful when his roommate, Dr. V, sauntered into the room and sat on Soupy’s bed with a bowl of popcorn.

Until Soupy realized that he was also not wearing a shirt.

Soupy’s hands shot upwards and covered his nipples.

“What are you doing in my room?” he asked quickly.

“Waking you up,” Dr. V stated, mouth already full of popcorn, “And getting you laid.

“You see this?” Dr. V continued, pointing at the television screen, “This is called Single Room Apartment. It’s about a guy and a girl who through a series of wacky coincidences end up sharing this apartment that only has one room in it. Now see, at the beginning of the series, they both hated each other, but then over time, they both realized they had feelings for each other, and they keep on doing the whole on-again, off-again, will-they-or-won’t-they thing. Point is, over the course of the show? This guy gets laid. And today, in honour of the series finale that’s on tonight, they’re doing this marathon thing, so you can get some pointers while we watch.”

“I’m confused,” Soupy said, “Are you saying you want to have sex with me?”

“Do we live in a single room apartment?”

“No.”

“Well there you go.”

“Oh,” Soupy stated, “Well in that case, please get out.”

“Get out?” Dr. V munched, “But the show’s a classic.”

“And you can watch it in your room,” Soupy told him, “Or the living room. Or anywhere else where my nipples aren’t.”

“You still have that thing with your nipples?”

“They’re shy,” Soupy grumbled coldly, “Now get out.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing…” Dr. V told him while he made for the exit.

“And close the door behind you.”

Dr. V complied, and Soupy slowly let his hands fall from their place.

“I can still see you,” the television blared.

Soupy quickly drew up the covers.

“Stupid television.”

Reluctantly, he reached an arm out from underneath his cover and opened the drawer in his nightstand that contained his glasses. He put them on and then…

There she was.

Smiling at him.

From the picture frame inside the drawer, she was smiling that smile of hers that causes her green eyes to light right up.

That… that was when he liked them the most. Her eyes, that is. She only had one smile, and he would never describe her smile as “them” under any circumstances, but that was neither here nor there.

The fact was, he liked her eyes best when she smiled. Of course, that wasn’t to say there was a moment that he didn’t like her eyes, oh no. In fact, he found them to be quite warm when they were even just glancing at nothing in particular, or even glazed over as she looked inwards, thinking of things that no one else was meant to know.

But it was when she smiled… oh, when she smiled, they are truly beautiful and full of life.

And yes, she’d deny it. She’d always deny it, because she couldn’t see them herself. Well, not really. Sure, there were mirrors, but mirrors only show us what we want to see, and not what other people see, so she didn’t see it, not even when she tried to.

But it was there: that lust for life, that spark for the utterly wonderful…

It was there.

It was always there.

In his drawer.

Soupy did this every morning. The whole ritual, getting his glasses, and then… seeing her. It was kind of sad, actually…

She had broken up with him a few months before, and he still wasn’t saying good-bye. Why wasn’t he saying good-bye?

“Some of us,” the television stated wisely, “Have lives. And we live them. We move on from being stupid, emotionally retarded teenagers, and become adults.”

…Soupy hated the television.

But somehow… somehow…

He knew it was right.

That picture… her face… he looked at it every day. He looked at his past, every single day, and stayed there, hoping, and wishing that he could go back to that.

But he knew that he couldn’t. And it was about time he did something about it.

Slowly, as to not disturb the covers that cover his nipples, Soupy reached down underneath his bed, and he grabbed a tiny little shoebox.

He opened it gingerly, and moved his hands towards the photograph grabbing it carefully, looking at her face… her smile…

Her…

…

Soupy breathed.

He looked at the other things in the box.

They were other memories he… at one point in time… was reluctant to give up.

The ring made out of Starburst wrappers…

The saran wrapped red gummy bear…

The old Hanson CD with MmmBop on it…

And the green sparkle pen.

Soupy breathed deeply.

Each one of them, in their own little way, symbolized a chunk of his life, and a girl of the moment.

He had secretly hoped that this girl would be different than all the others. That she would be that one that he would stay with forever.

He honestly wished that That Girl could be… that girl.

But…

Soupy sighed. He told himself that he’s been hanging on long enough, and that… yeah, even though he thought it was kind of stupid that a cookie cutter sitcom was the thing to actually force this to happen… that he had to do it.

There were only so many ways he could say good-bye to her before he had to actually let go…

So he did.

The photograph floated down to the bottom of the box.

Just another memory…

The Soupy Toasterson Show is filmed before a live studio audience and a crate of frosted oranges, for old time’s sake. Some of the things listed above are true, and some of them, not so much. Also, events that have taken in place in the past have stayed there. Anything you’ve read isn’t an accurate picture of things in their current state. There’s never any place… for someone like me to feel terribly happy… -B!