A Valentine’s Day Love Tragedy (in 3 acts)
The knock at the door comes hard and firm. “I’m coming, hold on!” Mr Cocoa shouts as he walks toward the door. Still, the knocking is persistent, and growing more furious. “Hold your horses! I’m coming!” The door is flung open, and his mood isn’t helped when he finds the frowning face of that goober woman. Before he can speak, Mrs Hypogeo fires at him, “What has your son done with my daughter!” It really wasn’t a question as much as an accusation.
“Don’t you go blaming’ my boy if your girl got herself into some kinda trouble.” Mr Cocoa reacted in defense.
“Don’t you give me that.” Mrs Hypogeo shot back. “Val was supposed to be home hours ago. I’ve phoned her friends, and they all agree they saw her leave school with that boy of yours.”
“I’m telling you, it can’t be Teddy. He’s been at work since…” Mr Cocoa’s words hung in the air as the telephone broke into the conversation. “Hold that thought. Lemme get the phone.”
“I’m not leaving until I get to the bottom of this.” Insisted Mrs Hypogeo as she let herself in on the heels of Mr Cocoa. The phone’s insistent ringing is cut short with the gruff bark of “Hello. Cocoa speaking.”
The one sided conversation was brief. “What? No, I ain’t got no TV on…. The news? Are you sure? Yeah, yeah, alright already…” The last statement being said as the TV remote is scooped up. “Alright I said… I got it on right now…” At the press of a button, the news report fills the screen.
The parents of the prominent, rival families stand speechless as they watch the screen. “At the scene of the disaster, police are doing their best to keep the crowds back from what appears to be a double suicide. Witnesses say they saw the couple leap from the top of the 15 story high rise at this busy downtown location.” The man on the street reporter announced. “So far, identity has been difficult with the conditions of the severely mangled bodies. Some believe it could be the result of a suicide pact between young lovers.”
As police push crowds back to stand clear of the crime scene tapes, the reporter turns to one of the cops. “Can you tell us anything about the tragedy sir?”
“I’m not at liberty to say much, but from the smashed up mess… well… there’s just not a lot to go on other than a smear of peanut butter, and broken bis of chocolate.” Was the cop’s response.
“Peanuts, and chocolate?” Confirmed the reporter. “Does this have something to do with the rival families? Peanut barons, the Hypogeo’s, and Chocolate importers, the Cocoa’s?” The reporter stated, putting the clues together. “They have been notorious rivals for years. Do you suspect fowl play?”
“Now that, we can’t say for sure, but we suspect something else.” The officer said.
“What do you mean?” Was the obvious question.
“Well, we haven’t located any identification yet, but this was found in a wallet near the scene.” The officer held up a piece of paper and read…
Teddy’s Alone Poem
By Theodore B CocoaAll day the crowds I’m with fill my head.
Each saying the other is to dread.
One allows only they are right,
And the other deserves only a fight.In one there are shades of light to dark.
Shapeless, pliable, conforming, and pleasing for all.
The other holds to form. Round, and firm is the mark.
Crusty shell, roasted, salty, and tall.Chocolate and peanut, but neither shall cross,
From one to the other. Mixing is forbid.
Peanut and Chocolate, to one the other is loss.
I’ve always believed this since I was a kid.Alone in my thoughts, only you crowd in.
How did I ever win a Peanut as a friend?
Those old ideas now seem so lame.
As much as we’re different, somehow we’re the same.
The reporter comments, “Aw, that’s so sweet. What’s this, sticking out of this purse?” Holding up another paper, the reporter reads…
Busy
By Valencia HypogeoBusy life, with things to do.
Busy at home wen the day is through.
Screens from TV, phones, or games.
Always distracted, over stimulating my brain.Everyone seems to belong to one group or other.
A team, or a club. A strong band of brothers.
Finding a place in one is no bother,
But interests elsewhere beg not to be smothered.The door closes, and alone in a room;
The clock ticks slowly, and a welcome gloom;
Comes rolling over, as still as a tomb.
Sweeping the cobwebs with his own mental broom.Now alone, with nothing to do,
My mind races, always to you.
The one i can’t have, with you i find peace,
Torn between two worlds where there is no release.Alone in my head, i find you. I find hope
Stress is squashed in my quiet place. I can cope.
I want to be tied to you with a chord, a strong tether
And draw you to my solitude, to stay here forever.The pressure of life, expectations and strife.
Mean we could never be one, a man and a wife.
To be with you with each living breath;
Until we reach the forever of death.
As the camera pans away from the scene, the cop has to rush over as a few watchers from the crowd sneaks under the crime scene tapes. “Hey! Get away from there! Stand behind the yellow tapes. Stay out of the crime scene!”
As the crowd complies, a voice is heard, “Hey, did somebody put peanut butter in that chocolate?”
An answer comes, “No, I think somebody put their chocolate into this peanut butter.”
As the camera fades to black, another voice is heard, “Hey, two great tastes that taste great together!” Then the cop roaring, “I said get away from there. Stop eating the crime scene! Hey! Put the evidence back, and stop nibbling it!”