The Soupy Toasterson Show #03

(B. Schatz)

The Soupy Toasterson Show
Created by B. Schatz

#03 - It’s All the Same
Written by B. Schatz

Soupy went back into his room, and grudgingly pulled the shoebox out from underneath his bed.

“This is stupid,” he breathed, trying to convince himself not to open the box and take her picture out, “You’re over her. She’s over you. Do you got that? It’s done, and over.”

“C’mon,” the box replied metaphorically, “Take my top off. I know you want to see the goods.”

“Be quiet, you dirty metaphorical box of temptation,” Soupy groused, “I want nothing to do with you, hear me? Nothing.”

“Then why do you touch me so?”

Soupy dropped the box quickly, and it clattered to the floor. Something sounded like it broke, and he immediately remembered the frame and the glass that surrounded the picture.

“Uh-oh,” the box mused playfully, “That didn’t sound good.”

“Shut up.”

“Aren’t you worried about her? She could be hurt…”

“It’s only a picture of her.”

“Don’t you care about her? I know you think you do, but obviously-”

“It’s not really-”

“-you don’t, otherwise you would’ve checked already.”

“I don’t need to-”

“Do you love her? You used to say you did, but she’s gone.”

“Shut up, you don’t-”

“She’s gone, so what does that mean? Does it mean that she never loved you, or does that mean you didn’t love her enough to find a way to make things work? Or-”

“Just SHUT UP, okay?” Soupy yelled, “I love her, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I loved her, I love her, and as far as I know, no matter how many times I try and tell myself that I am actually over her, I never will be, and I’ll live out every single one of my remaining days just thinking about what could’ve been, but you know what? She’s gone. She doesn’t want me, and me? I’m trying to respect that, and I’m trying hard to see if I love her enough to let her go, but to do that, I need you to just SHUT UP and let me try and deal with things the way I want to.”

The shoebox fell silent.

“Oh, hell,” Soupy muttered darkly, as he bent low, sat down, and opened the box.

The picture was fully intact.

“Oh, thank God,” Soupy whispered, his body relaxing. Then to the shoebox, he said, “You know, you really had me scared for a while there. Not that I should’ve been, but… I’m working on it, you know? It’s just… taking some time, is all.”

The shoebox said nothing.

“Right,” Soupy breathed, “Shoeboxes can’t talk.”

The Soupy Toasterson Show is filmed every Thursday before a live studio audience without the use of what you quote-unquote “normal” people call “pants”. We let it all hang loose, and if you can’t handle it, well… wear glasses, and draw little pants on the lenses, so when you look out at us, we’ll all be fully clothed. That should take care of things. The preceeding was and is both entirely true, and entirely false, depending on the moment and memory. Clear is the new black. -B