Television Romance

S1 E07: Hugo's Great Pain

"Nobody speak to me! I am an emotional wreck." That was Hugo, calling in a loud and almost operatic voice.

"Him and I both," Juliet muttered. She had opened the door to Four just in time to see Hugo's defiant declaration as he marched down the hallway. He was wearing a long cardigan that brushed his ankles, giving him the appearance of a widowed housewife in a Lifetime movie. And he had been pacing the hall for the last twenty minutes or so, making occasional dire announcements. Well, it was more of a waddle. Down the hall, the door of a writing room opened and Meredith poked her head out.

"Hey, what's the bit?" she called to Juliet. Hugo invented a new bit four times a week. If no one figured out how to placate him he'd go on forever. Seriously. Last October, he had dressed up in full chainmail and clattered around LTV for three days until Michael had accepted his request to duel. They had fought with foam pool noodles. It had gotten better since Vian arrived, but when she wasn't around he was as Hugo-y as ever.

"I don't know. I think we're supposed to ask him what's wrong," Juliet replied. Hugo could, of course, hear all of this, but he wouldn't break the fourth wall. He made another pronouncement.

"Woe is me!"

"Where were you during the pitch meeting?" Meredith asked.

"Dentist."

"Sure." Juliet rolled her eyes. It was like no one believed in doctors at LTV. God help her if she ever needed an ambulance

"How was it?" Meredith asked.

"Great. I can't feel most of my face."

"My pain is insurmountable," Hugo proclaimed, "I must disappear into the woods and begin a new life."

"Do you want to ask?" Juliet called.

"No, no. Go ahead," Meredith said quickly and disappeared back into her room. Juliet groaned.

"Hugo! What's the problem, my man?"

"The glimmer of purpose has vanished. I am a shipwreck, the vessel of my soul tossed to and fro by the relentless seas of disillusion." He didn't stop pacing.

"Yeah, I got that, but why?" Hugo gathered the tails of his cardigan into his hands and held them to his chest like they were a small child.

"Ross has committed an unforgivable trespass against Rachel," he said very loudly.

"This is about Friends?" Juliet rubbed her eyes. It was still Monday. And only ten o'clock.

"I'm sure the friends from Friends will remain friends," she assured Hugo.

"How can you be sure?"

"Mostly because they haven't changed the title of the show to Acquaintances."

"Alas, if only I could possess such optimism in the face of dread." With that he walked backward into Five, still clutching his cloth baby and never breaking eye contact with her.

"Monday," Juliet sighed, "It's only Monday." She turned back around. She wasn't in Four, for once, but in Bill and Michael's room. Trust number Seven.

"What was it?" Micheal asked. He was there, obviously, which meant Bill wasn't.

"He's catching up on television. Hey, does it look weird when I smile?"

"You look drunk."

"A simple 'yes' would've worked."

"You look like you're drunk and having a stroke."

"That's it, I'm taking you out of my will."

"Damn," Micheal said flatly, "I'll sure miss that bootleg copy of Independence Day."