The Glorious and the Infamous (A Soap Opera parody)

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kuroshimodo

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Tristan punched his fist against the wall. His kitten, Fluffydoodles, was no where to be found in the house. The little kitten was his favorite and most prized possession in the world. At night he cuddled with the small adorable fur ball and soon would fall into a peaceful slumber. His friends and relatives didn't realize how much he loved the kitten thinking that being a man of twenty-three years old wouldn't hold such childish affection towards a pet. Armed with a large salami stick, Tristan went forth to interrogate likely suspects.
 
She sat on the kitchen counter with her knees crossed, liver-spotted thighs laying naked between her tweed skirt and poly-cotton blend stockings. She wore special orthopaedic shoes, the doctor prescribed them to help with her back problems. With a sensuously shrill voice she giggled, twirling the short curls of her angelic white hair. "Well hello Tristan. Funny seeing you here." The gorgeous woman, clearly no older than her late thirties (of course), blew a cat food-scented kiss and winked at Tristan. Her makeup was bright and colourful, accentuating the graceful wrinkles on her skin. "So what brings you to Beatrice." Beatrice. The name slid against a person's tongue just like a pair of un-set dentures.

The woman laughed, trying her best to imitate a cat pawing at the air and meowing. "Oh and you brought salami, my favourite!"


 
Tristan's face was dark red with anger. He slammed the stick of salami with forceful strength against the counter. Chunks of salami spread across the kitchen counter however Tristan's eyes were focused on the one lady he despised the most in the world, his Aunt Beatrice. Surely she was the culprit of such a hideous and unscrupulous crime. A vein on his forehead slightly protruded from beneath the skin.

"HOW DARE YOU COMPLIMENT MY INTERROGATION TOOL! BUT MOST OF ALL, HAVING THE AUDACITY TO STEAL MR. FLUFFYDOODLES FROM ME LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT!" screamed Tristan, not being someone able to cope with anger well. A small spray of spit showered upon his Aunt.
 
She laughed. As the salami flew she laughed. The chunks, like tiny pieces of confetti flew everywhere and it was a party. Her nephew, he yelled loudly and angrily to the point where spittle landed on her face. The room suddenly went quiet and the light suddenly dimmed. Aunt Beatrice pinched her face together, mouth open and teeth clenched tightly together. With an angry stare she lifted her fingers to the air and let out a large screech and began shaking Tristan violently.


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"You will be wed! You will be wed" She wailed. It wasn't like Beatrice. It was Beatrice's alter ego! Shelly!


 
Tristan wiggled himself out of his Aunt's grip; still clinging onto half of a salami stick. Once wrestled free of his apparent mentally ill aunt, Tristan proceeded on with his interrogation. He slammed home the salami against his aunt's aged face and raised the remaining salami stick in the air. His threatening gesture was complimented by thr sound of thunder from unknown origin.

"BACK YOU SHE DEMON! I WILL HAVE NO PART IN YOUR SCHEMES TO HAVE ME WED! I WILL STRIKE ONCE MORE AT YOUR ROTTEN CORE IF YOU WON'T TELL ME WHERE PRINCE FLUFFYDOODLES IS!" threaten Tristan more audible than the last time.
 
"Augh! Augh it burns! The salami! It burns!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. At the crack of lightning the lights flickered and 'Shelly' fell to the floor and began speaking in tongues. The words were barely audible between the gibberish, but there was a message. "sskjlskjf-theman-soijoifjs-withthegold-slksjlskjf-monacles-lkjlskjf-peru-skfjslfk" And with that the lights went back on. Aunt Beatrice lay on the floor, makeup smeared by the greasy salami meat. Her eyes were wide open. Her expression a blank stare. She was dead.
 
Betina cried heavily in her bedroom. She skipped today's university class; she felt so bad. After hours of criying, Betina María Aurelia de Santos y Barriga (yes, that was her name) decided to go for some breakfast. She sat on her bed, wet with tears. She tossed aside hundreds of used tissue handkerchieves, looking for her slippers. She found them, finally. She made her way to the kitchen, sobbing, dragging her feet.

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squish-squish, squish-squish, the tear-soaked carpet went with each of Betina's steps.

Finally Betina reached the fridge. She opened it, and took a pot of ice cream out. She started gulping it, sobbing between each mothful. She felt so, so guilty.... I shouldn't have done that... Please, forgive me Tristan! Oh Tristan, my secret, dearest love! Forgive me! Betina thought, swallowing down some cheap chocolate ice cream. I was so jealous... I knew the man from peru... He had such a good reputation with kitten kidnappings... And I was... She cried out loudly as she thought of this, I was so jealous! You never looked at me, Tristan! You loved that kitten more than anything in the world... Oh please, God, forgive me! I'll do anything to make things right... Oh my beloved Tristan...!
 


She was heading home from being a teacher's aide for an elementary school when she saw something happening. In her mind. She quickly ran into her home and was stopped short.

"What the hell is going on here?" she yelled at Tristan, knowing her dearest aunt couldn't help herself. It was the dementia. And perhaps a little MPD, and some Schizophrenia occasionally. Maybe some bipolar sometimes. And the beginning stages of something no one but a doctor could pronounciate...

Anyway, back to the task at hand. Her brother was standing there holding a long piece of meat in their aunt's eyes.

"Tristan. What are you doing?" she snapped, hands on her hips.
 
Tristan dropped the remaining piece of meat stick onto the floor then looked towards her sister.
"I KILLED A GIRL AND I DIDN'T LIKE IT! SHE FORCED MY HAND WITH HER PALE LIPS! DAMN IT WHERE IS COMMANDANT FLUUFYDOODLES!" yelled Tristan barreling towards the refrigerator. He opened the door forcibly and tool out a whole cheddar cheese wheel. Gripping it tightly but not enough to allow it to crumble in his hand. He pushed his sister aside as he made his way to the door. "I AM GOING NEXT DOOR TO INTERROGATE BETINA! DON'T WAIT UP ON ME! I MIGHT NOT BE BACK FOR DINNER!" Tristan yelled back as he opened the door, slamming it against the wall.

Tristan literally walked over the row of bushes that separated the neighbors and sat foot on Betina lawn. He approached the window that he suspected to be Beatina's bedroom. He threw the cheese wheel through the window and at the same time yelled, "DETECTIVE CHEDDAR!"
 
Betina was trying to dry the carpet with a rag. She soaked it in the carpet and squished it in a bucket, releasing her tears. It was not working out well, since she kept cying as she cleaned, and as she cried she used more paper handkerchieves, and chaos was increasing more than anything.

Oh, Tristan....!

She paused, and sighed, deeply in love. Soon she started sobbing again.

Oh, forgive me.... It's almost as if I could hear your melodic voice yelling in anger at me right-

THUD.

Betina was knocked out momentarily by a big piece of cheddar cheese that flew right through the open window.

''DETECTIVE CHEDDAR!!''

It's HIM!!! Betina blew her nose, licked her hands and arranged her hair so that her oily fringe would stay nice and flat against her forehead; she stood up, nervously, and put her glasses on. To see your beautiful face my darling.... Then she arranged her Teletubbies pajamas, and rushed to the front door.
She flung the door open, and looked at Tristan.

''Oh, Tristan! What a surprise!''
 
Tristan ran to the front door about ready to kick it in when Betina answered the door. If Tristan wasn't so angry then perhaps he would have noticed that she had been crying. Instead he let his anger get the best of him.
"WITCH OF THE TORRENTIAL TEARS WHERE IS HIS HOLINESS ARCH BISHOP FLUFFYDOODLES!" yelled Tristan at the top of his lungs.

He forgot where he had met the rather unattractive girl but all he knew that his neighbor could be a most likely suspect.
 
Betina stood, right where she was, making a great effort to pretend she was not sad or terribly in love with him.
It is hard to say if that worked, but it's not really important anyway. She combed her hair, using her fingers, and leaned against the doorframe, trying to look sexy. Her eyelids fluttered like butterflies.

''Oh... Fluffydoodles? Mmmm... it rings a bell somewhere... Ooooh isn't that your dog? I mean, cat? I don't know. I haven't seen it around lately'', she lied.

Her next-door neighbour, Mr Brown, an old, vision impaired, half deaf and partially senile man, was sort of looking at what was going on in Betina's house. He couldn't see very well two metres after his nose, but anyway, he realized that Betina was lying.
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''LIAR!'' he yelled over the fence.

Betina blushed.

''SHUT UP YO, OLD FART!'' she yelled back to him. ''Fine... Tristan...'' she said, looking at the floor, ashamed. ''I, sort of, know... I'll tell you... but...'' she suddenly had an idea. She looked at him in the eye.

She blushed even more, now with an evil smile spreading across her face.

''I will tell you ONLY if you invite me to dinner tonight at your place... AND introduce me to your family as... YOUR GIRLFRIEND'' she said.



''I WANNA GO TOO!'' Mr Brown added.
 
Tristan looked around him as if in a daze. He was standing on top of an ice cream truck with a cup of orange sherbet in his hands. He looked down and saw little children covered in ice cream of various sorts. They were groining while feebly crawling across the sidewalk and road. Tristan had no recognition of how he appeared in this situation. All he could remember was Be-Be-Betaco and old man Jenkins asking him out on a date aboard a cruise ship. . . right? Then the one thing he knew for sure occurred to him, his beloved Fluffydoodles was missing. Anger setting in once again, the onslaught of frozen dairy products commenced once again. He forgot what had happened with the witch of the torrential tears and soon forgot altogether about his visit to his neighbor thanks to his blins rage.

"PHARAOH FLUFFYDOODLES!!" he screeched as the poor children below took the force of his anger.
 
Walking outside after seeing her brother's enraged tantrum, she quickly took hold of the situation.

"Tristan! You shall force my hand if you do not stop throwing things at those poor children. Get down from there, or I will refuse to help you with your search."

Granted she didn't think it would work. Afterall, Tristan never listened to her. She was just the older sister. The only one with a brain around here it seemed at times. She couldn't stop this madness even if she tackled Tristan off the ice cream truck, a feat she would be lucky to succeed.
 
''I WANTS AN ICECRIM TOO!!'' Mr Brown yelled, as he ran up to the truck as well.

''SHUT UP YO, OLD FART!'' Betina yelled back, as she ran towards Tristan. ''Oh, Tristan!.... I just realized... I ran out of ice cream!''



Mr Brown stopped, and paused to stare at Tristan's mysterious blue-haired sister.

''WHAT IS YER NAMES, LOVE?!'' he yelled to her. ''D'YA NEED HELP WITH THE BOY??!!''
 
She was getting furious at this strange turn of events. All of this crazy....

"EVERYONE JUST FREEZE!" she finally yelled at the top of her lungs.
 
''OH MY GOD!'' Mr. Brown yelled. ''SHE'S A COP! RUN FOR YER LIVES....!!! GOT HANDCUFFS, LUVE?'' he added, looking at Tristan's sister with a naughty look in his eyes.

''A COP!?!?!?'' Betina yelled in surprise. They caught me! They know I'm involved in Mr. Fluffydooflie's kidnapping!

And she froze right there, just about to snatch a bite from Tristan's ice cream.
 
She refused to smack her forehead. It wasn't going to happen. She had to resist. It was required.

But how the hell did they decide she was a cop?

"And I don't have any handcuffs!"
 
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