WHAT IF...? (#2)

...the late, great Jim Henson were still alive and collaborating with Joel Surnow in a parallel TV universe? Welcome to SESAME SECTION. Tonight's episode: "THE SPYGUY & PIGITA."

[Fade up from black on the interior of the fabulously decorated duplex of our fabulously blond, beautiful and buxom heroine, PIGITA. No unflattering lighting here. No cheesy sunglasses on strings, either. We are talking over-the-top gorgeousness. The kind of place God would have if Ivana Trump were Her personal decorator and She had an eternal credit line on her Platinum AmEx card.]

[Depeche Mode's little-known version of "I Feel Pretty" plays in the background. PIGITA, clad in pink satin and pearls, is lolling about eating bonbons. She's put in an exhausting day at Sesame Section, trying to figure out which of four things is not like the others.]

[There is a knoc-knock-knock at the door. Animated special effects count up the number of knocks. PIGITA arises and sashays across the room. She turns toward one of the duplex's many surveillance cameras and primps. Then she does one of her patented toss-the-hair-back moves and flings open the door.]

PIG: Oh. It's YOU again.

[Cut to: SPYGUY. He's dressed in black leather. Superlatives cannot adequately describe this man. Only the writers on the LFN Story Boards can do that so they should stop reading this and get back to work because there are readers desperate for more of their work! In any case, SPYGUY is a stud. He is also one suffering puppy.]

SPY: I was in the neighborhood.

PIG: (flatly) Wrong show.

SPY: What?

PIG: You want the Mr. Rogers' substation.

SPY: (still clueless, but recovering) No, Pigita. I want YOU!

PIG: (fabulous hair flip) Doesn't everyone?

SPY: (pause) May I come in?

[PIGITA admits SPYGUY to her amazing abode. There is a long, lingering shot on his amazing a-butt as he enters]

PIG: This isn't going to be another one of those 'let's have coffe' routines, is it?

SPY: Uh--

PIG: I know about the payoffs from Juan Valdez and Starbucks.

DISEMBODIED VOICE: Ah, Pigita! We've taught you well!

SPY: (startled) What was that?

PIG: Positive reinforcement. This is SESAME Section, remember? Building self-esteem is a high priority.

SPY: Is that why those creepy-looking twins put gold stars on my door this morning?

PIG: Someone had to do something to brighten off that depressing office of yours. Anyway, about the coffee--

SPY: It's not necessary. To be able to drink you in with my eyes is all the liquid sustenance I require.

PIG: Nice line. Completely out of character, but nice. FYI, I wasn't offering to make you coffee.

SPY: Oh. What about dinner?

PIG: Honey, the only thing I make for dinner is reservations at the most expensive restaurant in town. And I DON'T go Dutch!

SPY: (inspired) I could cook for you, m'petite! I do a terrific roast suckling p-- (warning glare from PIGITA) --otato.

PIG: Close, SpyGuy. VERY close.

SPY: No, Pigita! (sweeps her into an embrace after discovering it's really hard to hand-dance a partner who doesn't have fingers) THIS is very close!

PIG: Hmm. Is that a knockwurst in your pocket, or are we about to have a reprise of our scene on the Love Boat?

SPY: (getting glazed look) Ah...J'en Suis...L'Homme Ideal...C'etait le 12 du 12 et Chile--

PIG: What? We're doing resume review all of a sudden?

SPY: (snapping out of it) I apologize. This week's writer is linguistically challenged. (frowns) Or maybe I was having a flash forward to HALF LIFE.

PIG: (pulls herself free) Get with the program. Fractions aren't 'til NEXT season!

SPY: But the official Sesame Section USA web site says--

PIG: Yeah, yeah. Like TPTB haven't toyed with us before. Sometimes, they treat us like...PUPPETS!

SPY: D'accord. And it's so unfair. Especially to me. I'm a HUMAN BEING. I have a name! Not a number! I--

PIG: HEY!!!!! (SPYGUY looks at her, stunned) Wrong show, Hong Kong Hair. Lousy recall on the quote, too. And don't even THINK about singing that song about being a man who leads a life of danger.

SPY: (pause) I'm sorry.

PIG: (snorts) Easy for you to say after eighteen scripts.

SPY: Oh, Pigita. We fight all the time just to stay alive. Let's not fight what's between us--

PIG: Too little, too late, SpyGuy. We're finished.

SPY: But I asked you to be patient!

PIG: I was.

SPY: I asked you YESTERDAY!

PIG: (suprised) Really? I thought it was longer than that.

SPY: It only seemed longer because of all the reruns.

PIG: Oh. Right. Well, if you lived in Canada--

SPY: I do, and I have insurance claims for extensive ice damage to prove it. But let's not talk about that, Pigita. Let's talk about--

PIG: Me! Me! Let's talk about MEEEEEEE!

SPY: Actually, I was going to say...us.

PIG: Us? There is no US!

DISEMBODIED VOICE: Brava, Pigita! MUCH better line reading than that Jerky guy!

PIG: (muttered asides) Talk about hams...

SPY: Pigita, I can't restrain myself any longer. I must tell you. The need to speak in something other than enigmatic epigrams and techno-jargon is too potent to be denied. It's time to expand my vocabulary and externalize my emotions and--

PIG: SPIT IT OUT ALREADY!

SPY: I love you.

PIG: Oh. That. (yawns delicately) Tell me something I don't know.

SPY: All right. Oscar the Grouch is Madeline's love child by Operations.

PIG: WHAT?!?!?!

SPY: Ooops.

PIG: Talk about SPOILERS!!

SPY: Pigita--

PIG: Let's cut to the chase, SpyGuy.

SPY: (confused) How can we do that? The chase isn't until Act Three. We still have to do the expository briefing scene and introduce the Slime of the Week. The van isn't gassed up either. Continuity requires--

PIG: Continuity? On THIS show? HAH! Anyway, I was speaking metaphorically.

SPY: Oh.

PIG: There's someone new in my life.

SPY: (gasps)

PIG: I can't believe people think you're Sesame Section's top op.

SPY: Who...who is he?

PIG: If I told you, I'd have to kill you.

SPY: (shrugs) So? The only part of me that isn't dead is you.

PIG: THAT'S your idea of a ROMANTIC DECLARATION?

SPY: Just wait until you hear my speech about dividing myself in half. It'll rip your heart out.

PIG: Great. Now you're confusing us with BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER! And what did I tell you about fractions?

SPY: I'm sor--

PIG: DON'T EVEN SAY IT!!

SPY: All right. I won't. I'm sick of that line, anyway. Please, cherie. Give me a hint about my competition.

PIG: Well... I don't usualy supply intel on the first date--

SPY: This isn't a date, Pigita. It's an integral part of a story arc designed to crank up the UST.

PIG: Oh. Right. Good point. Okay. He's shorter than you are. He's also extremely cute and smart. And he has this adorable fuzzy stuff on top of his--

SPY: Mon Dieu! YOU'RE DATING BIRKOFF?!?!

PIG: NO! (reconsiders) Although now that you mention it, Birky wouldn't be bad as a back-up. A girl can never have too many sources of free snacks.

SPY: (bitterly) That's what you said when I caught with the Cookie Monster.

PIG: Oh, get over it!

SPY: (loooooooong pause) Who, Pigita? Who is my rival?

PIG: His name is-- (checks to make sure the surveillance cameras are getting her best angles) --Kermit!

SPY: (devastated) But...why?

PIG: Well, it's not just a matter of black versus green.

SPY: Oh, no! Not...shades of grey!

PIG: Hardly! Grey is NOT one of moi's colors. I'm a classic Summer. {pause) It's partly the stare thing, SpyGuy. You're good. But compared to someone who has painted Ping Pong balls for eyes--

SPY: I'll ask Walter to help! He can develop an occular prototype--

PIG: (losing patience) Forget it. I'm part of Kermie's life now, and if he doesn't want to end up like Jerky, he's going to keep that in mind before he shoots you in the leg and goes running into a building to reset the timer on a wad of C-12.

SPY: Huh?

PIG: What can I say? He's different from you, SpyGuy. I mean, you may be French-- (fabulous hair flip) --but he's a FROG!!!

(OUT TO COMMERCIAL ON SPYGUY'S STUNNED AND STUNNING FACE...)

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