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you think there’s no one finer, but your poems are unpublished and you work in a diner

April 24, 2009

Hey, all the “Mister Pretentious” poets out there, don’t forget about Monica’s awesome revenge via barbershop quartet on her Baudelaire-loving hook-up, Julio, from Friends Season 3 Episode 12.

& listen, it’s a po-biz-blogger’s RULE that when there’s Baudelaire’s Flowers of Evil on TV, you go to a Friends fan site and read the entire script (excerpted below) like it’s Canto XXXV:

[Scene: The Moondance diner, Monica is cleaning up with one of the waiters, Julio]

Monica: Look Julio, someone left their book here.
Julio: Ah actually, that is mine.
Monica: Oh yeah, what are you reading?
Julio: Flowers of Evil, by Baudelaire. Have you read it?
Monica: Have I read it? (pause) No, are you enjoying it?
Julio: I thought I would, but the translation’s no good.
Monica: You’re a poet and don’t know it. (she turns away and makes a face like ‘I can’t believe I just said that.’)
Julio: Actually I ah, I am a poet.
Monica: Oh, then you do know it. (pause) So um what kind of things do you write about?
Julio: Things that move me. The, the shadow of a tree, a child laughing, or this lip. (points to her lip)
Monica: Mine? (points to her lower lip) Right here?
Julio: I can write an epic poem about this lip. (grabs her lower lip)
Monica: How would that go? (they kiss) Well, it didn’t rhyme, but I liked it.

[Scene: Monica and Rachel’s apartment]

Monica: It was soo amazing, he is so sexy, and smart, which makes him even sexier. Oh gosh, I gotta so you this. Last night, we were fooling around and he stops to write a poem […] when he left he forgot to take the poem with him. Now, I am like totally dense about poetry, but I think it’s pretty good all right. Check it out. (hands them the poem)
Joey: (reading) The Empty Vase. Translucent beauty…
Chandler: To yourself. (finishing) Hey-hey-hey, y’know what that’s pretty good.
Monica: Oh good, I think so too. Pheebs?
Phoebe: Oh yeah.
Monica: Oh, I’m so glad you guys like it. Yay! All right I gotta go to work. (tries to take the poem)
Joey: Whoa, I’m not done.
Monica: All right, just give it back to me when your done. See you guys.
Chandler: Bye-bye.
(Monica leaves)
Phoebe: Oh my God, oh my God! Poor Monica!
Chandler: What, what, what?!
Phoebe: What?! He was with her when he wrote this poem. Look, (reading) ‘My vessel so empty with nothing inside. Now that I’ve touched you, you seem emptier still.’ He thinks Monica is empty, she is the empty vase!
Chandler: You really think that is what he meant?
Phoebe: Oh, totally. Oh, God, oh, she seemed so happy too.

[Scene: Monica and Rachel’s, Monica is tying a ribbon to a vase.]

Phoebe: (entering) Hey!
Monica: Hey.
Phoebe: What are you wrapping?
Monica: Oh-ho, look what I got Julio.
Phoebe: Yeah, it’s a vase.
Monica: Yeah, just like the one in the poem.
Phoebe: Well not exactly like the one in the poem.
Monica: What do you mean?
Phoebe: Remember how you said you were really dense about poetry? Oh. (hugs her)

[Scene: The Moondance Diner.]

Monica: (to Julio) So! I’m just an empty vase, huh?
Julio: What?
Monica: Y’know, so I don’t read as many important books as you do, and I don’t write trick poems that seem to be about one thing but are actually about something else. And y’know what, I get excited about stupid stuff, like when I my People magazine comes on Saturday, and the new Hold Everything catalog. Y’know but that does not mean that I’m empty, I care about things. I care about my friends and family. You have no right to make that kind of judgment about me.
Julio: Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Monica: You don’t even know me…
Julio: Whoa, whoa, whoa, the poem is not about you.
Monica: What?
Julio: The Empty Vase is not about you. My baby, you make me so sad that you would think this.
Monica: I’m sorry, my friend Phoebe…
Julio: No, it’s about all women. Well, all American women. You feel better now?
Monica: (sarcastically) Oh yeah.


[Scene: The Moondance Diner.]

Man: (entering) Is there a Julio here?
Julio: (to him) I am Julio.
(The rest of barbershop quartet enters, and joins him.)
Quartet: Mister Pretensous, (Monica stands up in the background) you think there’s no one finer, well but your poems are unpublished, and you work in a diner. You’re no God’s gift to women, that’s all in your headdddd. You are just a buttmunch. No one likes a buttmunch.
And you’re also bad in bedd-edd-edd!.
(Monica waves at Julio.)

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