Red Is the Color of Page #2

Uh, you-- You're from Perspective?

But--

Who are you?

I'm Fran-- Fran Pinkerton.

- Yes?

I'm the president

of the Bloody Marys.

I wrote to you about appearing

at our annual conference.

Well, actually,

it's our first and only conference,

but we're planning on

doing it again next year,

so we thought it would be okay to

call it our annual conference...

as opposed to

just our "conference."

- Didn't you get my letter?

- Fran,

I think we need to stop

our little chat now.

- I can come back tomorrow.

- It was wonderful meeting you, Fran.

Thank you so much for sharing

your heart and soul with me.

I-I feel as if...

the Virgin Mary herself had

appeared to me in a dream...

and-and poured her blood

all over my body.

Hot, thick, red--

Well, uh-- Yes.

I'll save it for next time,

when we can talk some more then.

Yes, Fran. Uh, good-bye, Fran. Good-bye.

- Bye.

Take off your clothes.

I love it when

you get bossy.

Julie--

We don't have

much time today.

Make me.

Come on, Jules.

Catch me first.

If you take one step closer,

I'll scream.

Okay. Okay.

All right.

Tell me the story.

- The story?

The story of why David

is fixated on nude women...

wearing this particular...

not-so-spectacular

red hat.

I'm not a very good storyteller.

- I bet you are.

Okay. Uncle Davy

will tell you a story if--

you promise to take off all your clothes.

Well,

when you put it like that,

how can a girl resist?

Okay. Let's see.

Story.

Not on Uncle Dave's lap.

Something's alive down there.

Yeah, it's a-- it's a Pogi.

Uh, I gotta feed him.

A Pogi?

- Sh*t. What do you want?

You have to feed him?

What is it?

It's a... Pogi.

Something my wife gave me.

I'm supposed to keep him alive

for a month.

But I-- I'm thinking of hiring

a babysitter. Interested?

I don't think nude nannies

are legal in this country.

Don't answer it.

He--

Hello?

No. No, she's not here.

She should be back

by 6:
00.

Great. Yeah, I'll tell her.

Bye-bye.

- So you were saying?

I was?

I was, uh--

The hat.

Why the ubiquitous hat?

Well, let's just say...

it's an inscrutable

projection...

of the cosmic

collective unconsciousness.

How about that?

And, uh, why

the color red, Professor Jung?

Red,

Miss Bell,

is the color of torment,

passion,

uh, flame,

birth, death, lust,

forbidden fruit,

passion--

- You already said passion.

Did I?

It's a bunch

of bullshit anyway.

I want the real story.

The story, then work.

Okay. Let's see.

Once upon a time,

when I was

an older woman--

our next-door neighbor Maggie--

used to come over and check in on

me when my parents were out of town.

Let me tell it.

No, let me tell it.

One day she-- Maggie--

comes over to check in

on little Davy,

who's been out playing soccer

with the neighborhood boys.

It's a hot, yellow day,

and he's brown

and dripping with sweat.

And Maggie comes over

wearing a big red hat...

and a flowery sun dress...

that clings

in the humid air...

to every crevice

of her voluptuous body.

Breasts bursting and "strappy"

high-heeled sandals clicking,

she comes up the back

steps, calling, "Davy!

"Davy!

It's Maggie.

Just comin' over to

check in on you."

Little Davy peeks

around the bathroom door,

his towel tied tightly around

his narrow, boyish hips.

And there's Maggie,

staring straight at him.

"Oh, Davy.

You are a dirty boy."

She reaches in a long,

cherry-red nail...

to his chest...

and wipes it across

his soft belly...

and licks the sweat

off her finger.

"Why, honey,"

Maggie purrs,

bending down

on her knees.

"We woke up Davy, Jr."

He stands, rigid, pink,

sweat-streaked,

as she brings

her bright red lips...

to the tip of

his pulsing young manhood.

Nailed by terror

and adrenaline,

all little Davy can see

is the top...

of the wide-brimmed

red hat,

bobbing up and down,

up and down,

up and down.

You have some

imagination.

Don't you wanna

f*** me now?

Do I want to,

or am I going to?

Move your hand

to the left.

Show me where you want it.

Oh, uh-- I'm so sorry.

I-- I thought you weren't

painting today.

Did I-- Did I screw up?

- No.

I'll just leave this right here.

- Stay. Stay, please.

Uh, I'll get this

for you.

Julie, you can relax.

It's been a long session.

I'll get us

something to drink.

Oh, thanks, love.

So, uh, your--

What do you do in your clothed life?

You--

Were you an actress, or--

I mean, most of his models...

have been actresses

or-or-or models or--

I'm a grad student.

What are you studying?

Writing.

- Really?

- I'm writing a novel.

Oh, uh, about what?

Maybe about you.

Oh, that will be a very short

and dull novel, I'm afraid.

Somehow, I doubt that.

You didn't happen to...

- lose a pair of underwear recently--

- Red, right?

Uh-huh.

- How embarrassing.

I-- I'm sorry.

Where'd you find them?

Uh, under my bed.

Oh! See, I--

I'm not shy at all

about posing,

but when I first

started--

There's something so intimate

about dressing and undressing.

I hope you don't mind

I used your bedroom.

Oh, no. No.

That must have been weird-- finding a

strange woman's skivvies in your space.

Um, I'm gonna

go get them.

Here you go.

- Wow.

This deserves some tequila.

I'm sorry.

You'll have to go virgin.

It's a nice shade of red.

Oh. Thanks.

Thanks.

I think we should

get back to work.

I'm sorry.

Um, I'm going.

So how did you two meet?

Um, oh, we actually met right here. It's funny--

- Mary.

I'm sorry. I'm going.

- No, no, no. Please stay.

I-- I've always been fascinated by the

chance encounters that lead to love.

It's the utterly hopeless

romantic in me.

I wanna hear how

Mary and David met.

Please?

It's really not that terribly romantic.

I mean, uh--

Please?

Okay, uh-- I lived here first.

And I was moving out,

David was moving in,

and we kept...

bumping into each other,

mixing up

each other's boxes...

until we decided to simplify

and consolidate under one roof.

That's not exactly

how it was.

Oh, it's not, huh?

No.

It was her voice.

- Oh!

She doesn't want to hear that.

- No, I do.

I wanna hear

all the gory details.

She was late moving out--

- I'd gotten the days mixed up.

Yeah, and, uh,

the door was open,

and I was about to walk in

when I heard this voice.

I was on the phone, right?

- Mmm.

It sounded like a--

a bubbling brook.

You know, soft water

over hard rocks.

I kept asking myself,

"Where have I heard that voice?"

I knew this voice--

the rhythm of it, the tone,

the bursts of laughter.

I wanted to step inside

that voice and never leave.

Yeah.

So I just-- I--

I just stood there,

speechless,

nailed to the floor.

And, uh,

I knew from the moment

I saw her...

that she was the one.

He just stood there

staring at me...

like some big old lug.

Wow. That's quite a--

- Oh, he actually...

asked me to move in

with him that first day, right?

That's crazy!

- No, I thought you asked me.

Oh, here we go

again.

Wow. That was

a great story.

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