(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott; TR: Tim Russell; TK: Tom Keith)

(MUSIC)

GK: Valentine's Day, beneath all the bonhomie, is painful for us shy persons, and even though we maintain this facade of glittering sophistication (SS BRITTLE LAUGHTER), down deep we remember only too well the slights and insults of our childhood classmates. (SS WEEPING)

TR (CHILD): Poophead. You big poophead.

SS (CHILD): I'm not either!

TR (CHILD): You are!

SS (TEACHER): Brian! What did you say???

TR (CHILD): I said Cupid.

SS (CHILD): You didn't either!

TR (CHILD): Did so.

SS (CHILD): Did not. He called me----- he called me a------ a (SHE WHISPERS)

SS (TEACHER): Brian! Shame! Daggers of shame, Brian! Your crude insult has probably marked Sophie for the rest of her life.

TR (CHILD): I'm sorry, Miss Peterson.

SS (TEACHER): Being sorry isn't nearly enough. I'm having you put into a program, you little heathen.

TR (CHILD): No, noff(TK COP VOICE. SNAP OF HANDCUFFS)

SS (TEACHER): Take him away and throw him in a dungeon cell and feed him nothing but bran flakes and pickled herring.

TR (CHILD): No, please. No. (STEEL DOOR SLAM)

SS (TEACHER): Are you all right, Sophie?

SS (CHILD): I guess so, Miss Peterson.

SS (TEACHER): Your fragile self-esteem hasn't been horribly damaged, requiring years and years of therapy before you'll be able to even dial a phone or make eye contact with a stranger?

SS (CHILD): No, I don't think so. (BRIDGE)

GK: That night, the child returns home, devastated.

SS (CHILD): Daddy? Am I a---

TR (DAD): A what, darling? A poophead?

SS (CHILD): Yes.

TR (DAD): No, not at all. You're a lovely person, Sophie, even if you do wear unsightly glasses and you're physically ungainly and not much good at academics and unlikely to get into a really good college, nonetheless we love you and when you get older, maybe we can find you a job in a nail salon.

(DARK CHORDS)

GK: It's a hard time for shy people, Valentine's Day.

SS (CHILD): (WEEPING)

TK (DOG): (TAIL WAGGING, COLLAR JINGLING) Don't cry, Sophie. I still love you. You'll always be No. 1 in my book.

SS (CHILD): Oh, Rex. My best friend.

TK (DOG): Here, let me lick your face. (BIG SLURPING AND LICKING. SS GIGGLING. THEN STOP)

SS (CHILD): What's wrong?

TK (DOG): Nothing. (DOG SPITS) (DOG COUGHS)

SS (CHILD): Does my skin taste bad, Rex? Rex?

TK (DOG): (SPITS, GAGS)

SS (CHILD): What's wrong with me? Where are you going, Rex?

TK (DOG): I've gotta go meet somebody.

SS (CHILD): Who?

TK (DOG): (OFF) Somebody---- (DOOR CLOSE)

SS (CHILD): (WEEPING) Not even my own dog wants to be around me. (BRIDGE)

GK: Years later---- in a city on the coast ----

SS: You've been such a help to me, Dr. Scheisskopf. I really feel that I've come to know myself, thanks to you.

TR (GERMAN): I've loved working with you, my dear. And I'm sorry to have to let you go, but my practice has quadrupled.

SS: What did you say, Dr. Scheisskopf?

TR (GERMAN): I said, My practice has quadrupled. And I feel stoophead for having to let you go----

SS: Why do you look at me that way, Doctor?

TR (GERMAN): Am I looking at you, Sophie?

SS: Yes. You're making me feel very small, Doctor.

TR (GERMAN): Oh? And how big do you think you are, Poophead?

SS: What? What? What did you say? (BRIDGE)

GK: That same week, at the office----

TR (BOSS): Come in, Sophie. Just want to tell you what a bang-up job you're doing managing our Winnie the Pooh line of furniture.

SS: Thank you, Mr. Big Pants.

TR (JOWLY): For a woman who's only 28 inches tall, you're a wonderful copywriter. And sales of the new Winnie the Pooh chairs and tables has been phenomenal, thanks to you.

SS: You're very kind.

TR (JOWLY): The Pooh Chair is a huge hit. And how about that Pooh Bed?

SS: WHAT DID YOU CALL ME? (STING AND BRIDGE) (FOOTSTEPS, CITY AMBIENCE, TRAFFIC)

GK: And minutes later, she's out on the street ----

SS: I'm tired of being insulted and made to feel small. I'm done with it! I'm going to get me a firearm and take some hostages! (STING)--

SS: OKAY. ON THE FLOOR. FACE DOWN. I MEAN IT, PEOPLE. (CROWD HORROR: She's got a gun!) THAT MEANS YOU TOO, POPS.

TR (GEEZER): Please don't shoot. I've got weak kidneys.

SS: YEAH, WELL, WE ALL GOT OUR PROBLEMS, DON'T WE. (SIRENS, FARAWAY) DON'T HAND ME YOUR PURSE, LADY. IT'S NOT MONEY I WANT. BELIEVE YOU ME. IT'S VALIDATION. YOU HEAR ME? I'M TIRED OF BEING MADE TO FEEL LESS. TURN OFF THOSE SECURITY CAMERAS. (GUNSHOTS, GLASS BREAKAGE) YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT A POOPHEAD CAN DO?? I'LL SHOW YOU----

TR: (OFF) Sophie?

SS: What you want, copper?

TR: Are you the Sophie who went to Carl Sandburg Elementary?

SS: So what if I am, copper? Come any closer and I'll turn you into Swiss cheese!

TR: Sophie? It's me. Brian.

SS: Brian----

TR: And I'm not a cop. I own this building.

SS: You're the one who called me the bad names----

TR: I am, and I've agonized over it for thirty years, Sophie.

SS: You tore up my insides and turned me into the wounded needy person I am today, Brian. You pig. You perpetrator. You ---- pipsqueak! You-----pumpkin! You ----

TR: Go ahead. Say it.

SS: You----- papaya! You Popsicle! You-----

TR: I'll say it for you. I'm a poophead, Sophie.

SS: Are you?

TR: I am. There are so many of us poopheads. And sometimes it takes us years to see it. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I've changed, and become a more thoughtful and compassionate person and I've tried to use my vast wealth to make this a better world. And now I'm looking for someone to share my life with. Please. Be my valentine.

SS: How do I know you're not lying to me? How do I know this isn't another ----- (SHE IS CAUGHT IN A PASSIONATE KISS. SHE TRIES TO BREAK FREE, BUT THEN RESPONDS, PASSIONATELY) (MUSIC UP)

TR: And that evening, we flew to Paris and were married by a magistrate (TR FRENCH, TK FRENCH MURMURS) ---- and from there to my chateau in Normandy (SURF) and a candlelit supper on the terrace overlooking the sea ---- (TK GROWLY FRENCH, CORKSCREW, POP OF CORK, POURING)

SS: You've made me ecstatically happy, Brian. I feel totally at peace and in love. (SURF AND BIRDS) You and France and a great Bourdeaux ---- and a beautiful pate ----

TR: Care for some mustard? I've got an excellent Gray Poophead---

SS: What???

TR: Poupon. Gray Poupon----

SS: What did you say before?

TR: Never mind. It's nothing. Nothing, I say---- (MUSIC UP)

© Garrison Keillor 2003