Wednesday, February 24, 2010

PICK YOUR OWN

George and Lynne are out and about when they see a sign advertising strawberries. Lynne encourages George to go towards the strawberries because she loves them. The man at the stall asks George and Lynne if they would like to pick their own to which Lynne replies that she would. She then thinks to herself that she is spoilt for choice.

It seems George has an aversion to strawberries. Before we arrive at this scene, Lynne has asked George to follow the sign, and George has replied that he doesn't want to. What are George's issues with the delicious red fruit? Did he have an embarrassing incident with them or do they just plain make him sick? The most likely explanation is that living in Wimbledon he is bombarded with requests from friends to stay at his house during Wimbledon fortnight. George is a kind man so usually yields but is sick to death of everyone who stays telling him that they had strawberries and cream. So now he flat out refuses to eat them out of principle.

Lynne would rather pick her own that be given a punnet which has been pre-picked by the proprietors of the large strawberry patch. Perhaps she doesn't like the look of them, or she thinks their hands are dirty. It is a farm of sorts so it's likely that their hands will be dirty. Lynne should also know that washing them would be a good idea anyway and that George is feeling uncomfortable around the fruit, so a pre-picked punnet and a swift exit might be a good idea.

Lynne thinks she is spoilt for choice. Just how big is this place? The choice of strawberries is beyond compare. Lynne thinks she's getting a good deal by having the pick of the patch but just how different are all these strawberries? Perhaps the strawberries she's seen in the punnets are quite small and there are far larger ones still to be picked. It's either that or she fancies Ben Fogle.

3 comments:

  1. Assuming that even Lynne can remember to dress, and has not just forgotten her pants, their interpretation of last night's weather forecast is radically different.

    If he's wearing a coat and she's wearing knickers one of them is going to be moaning about the climate and suggest they move somewhere else. A fractious walk, then.

    Except no. You know why? Cos one of them feels no heat. One of them feels nothing, nothing at all.

    George's heart is carved from lonely stone. He courses through the slow grating toils of the day and black roarings of the rolling and roasting nights with, on the whole, bemused indifference. That's why. Look at his face in the third frame. Stone cold.

    Admittedly Lynne's mind is not that great, but reading it is a skill none the less. And that doesn't bode well for that man, at all. That man's bloodied and soiled corpse will be fertilising those strawberries. Maybe he's not the first. Maybe that is why George avoids those fruits. But only maybe.

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  2. I'd never noticed before that George appears to have a combover. It looks to be whipcracking violently in the wind in those last two frames. He could have someone's eye out if he isn't careful.

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  3. I've always thought of George as a nice bloke but that expression on his face in frame 3 is not one I'd like to see if I knew him.

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