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[A lamppost outside of the STARRY NIGHT CAFÉ. A poodle and a pug sit quietly, watching their owners dine.]
POODLE, snooty: And who might you be?
POODLE: Your derrière is not smelling très chic.
PUG, in abrasive New York accent: The hell’s a derrière?
POODLE: Hmph. Forget it.
[The PUG snorts. Who does this b**** think she is? Eh. He then remembers he doesn't really care.]
PUG: I seen you around before?
POODLE: Most likely not. My owner doesn't usually attend run-of-the-mill establishments such as this.
[The PUG is taken aback. This is his favorite café, after all.]
PUG: So why are you here then, Your Majesty?
[The sarcastic remark flies right over the POODLE’s head.]
POODLE: My name is Fifi, actually. And we're here because…
FIFI: She fell in love.
PUG, chuckling: With who?
FIFI: Quite the plebeian in my opinion.
[She points her paw at a table a bit to the left of them.]
FIFI, genuinely shocked: I just can't believe she would ever fall for someone like that!
PUG: He's a pretty solid guy, ya know.
FIFI, incredulous: Really? And how would you know?
PUG: Because he's my guy, genius.
[FIFI realizes she’s made a mistake, but she says nothing. She decides to listen instead.]
PUG, sweetly nostalgic: He's had me a full seven years. And I'll tell ya, I've given him real hell. Once when I was a boy, I shat on the end of his mom’s antique curtains. Her only rule was not to let the dog go near the curtains, and she screamed and screamed whenever I so much as sniffed ‘em. So one day she went to the supermarket and, just to spite her, I shat all over them.
[FIFI suppresses a giggle.]
PUG: And you know what my Frankie did?
[FIFI shakes her head.]
PUG: He told her he did it!
[FIFI outright cackles, before she realizes that the customers have started to stare.]
PUG: Ah, youth. So what's your girl like?
FIFI: Oh, Léa? Well, she's simply lovely. She takes the most exquisite care of me, honestly, and I'm sure she'll care for your Frankie just the same.
PUG: Well how am I ‘posed to believe you if I don't know a thing about her?
FIFI: Haven't I turned out alright?
PUG: You know that's not what I mean.
[FIFI sighs, thinking back.]
FIFI: I don't quite know of a specific moment like you do. She's just… good. Have you ever met someone like that?
PUG, blunt: No.
FIFI: Okay. I don't really know how to explain it… You know how they do little things for you? Like get you washed, clean your bed, and make sure that they spend enough time with you everyday?
PUG: No, Frankie don't do that.
FIFI: Léa does. She cares about me doing as well as I possibly can. She's kind.
FIFI: Have you ever seen one of those stray cats? In the alleys?
PUG: Yeah, I'm friends with Tom, down by the park.
FIFI: Yeah. Léa helps them every time. She takes them to the shelter, but not before giving them a bath and a meal.
[FIFI beams with pride.]
FIFI: Do you know how many animals she helped last year?
PUG: How many?
FIFI: 263. Isn't that wonderful?
PUG: Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is.
[He thinks for a moment.]
PUG: Could you tell her about my buddy Tom? I think he'd really like a family.
FIFI: Of course.
[FIFI and the PUG sit in a happy, comfortable silence. They watch as their owners get up to leave. Frankie gives Léa a kiss on the cheek.]
PUG: Young love, huh?
FIFI: What do you call yourself?
PUG: The name’s Joey. Joey DeLaurentis.
FIFI: That sure is a lovely name.
JOEY: I'd like to think so.
[Each of their owners unties them from the lamppost.]
FIFI: It was lovely to make your acquaintance.
JOEY: Ditto, I guess. Will I be seein’ you soon?
[She looks up at LÉA and FRANKIE, who are quietly laughing to themselves.]
FIFI: Yes… yes, I suppose you will. Until then, Joey.
[The two pairs part ways, as the dogs’ tails wag and the lovebirds smile.]