Classical music drifted pleasantly from the walls as the camera panned across a classy old fashioned parlor room adorned everywhere with books, picture frames, and plates of cookies. The shot came to a rest on a shaggy blue monster seated in a high-back armchair. He wore a fancy old fashioned parlor robe.
"Good Evening." he greeted in a gruff voice, "Me Alastair Cookie. Welcome to Monsterpiece Theater. Tonight, me have great classic story for you. It thrilling, it spectacular, it marvelous…at least that what me book review says."
He then picked up a packet of papers from his side table to emphasize his point. He glanced at the papers in his hand, shrugged, and proceeded to consume them noisily.
When finished, Cookie smacked his fingers in a satisfied manner, and, turning his attention back to the reader, said, "Ah, that tasty. Ahem. And now, me show you classic, thrilling tale. Tale, of Ivanhoe."
The music swelled, and an intricately written calligraphy titlecard appeared. As it faded, a little farmhouse surrounded by random tufts of greenery appeared. The door opened and Zoe, dressed in a blue farm dress and a gray wig done up in a bun, came out holding a hoe.
"IIIvaaaan!" she called, "IIIIvaaaaann!"
In a flash, Grover had rushed over from the fields. He was dressed in overalls and a scraggly straw hat.
"Yes Mommy dearest?" he asked, "What can your cute furry blue son do for you?"
Zoe presented the hoe.
"Could you please hoe the garden, Ivan? Mommy's still tired from her square dancing tournament this morning." she told him.
Grover straightened dutifully.
"Of course I shall hoe the garden for you! I am at your beck and call!" he exclaimed, "So if you would just, uh, give me the hoe please…"
He came forward and took it.
"Thaaank you!" he smiled, "Now, off to the garden I go."
He trooped off into a very large, brown field, hoe over his shoulder. When he arrived, Grover heaved the hoe off of his shoulder and looked around.
"Hm," he observed, "It appears Mommy dearest forgot to mention just how large a garden is on a farm. Oh well! I, Ivan, shall hoe this entire field for my Mommy if it is the last thing I do!"
He finished with a resolute nod, and began scraping away at the ground. Within the first five strokes he was panting heavily.
"Dyyyyah!" he cried with each stroke, "Of course, at this rate, -dyyyyah!-it will be the last thing I do! It is-dyyyyah!-a lot harder than it looks!"
He continued his hoeing and screaming as the shot faded back to Cookie.
Cookie stared straight ahead for a couple of seconds before saying incredulously, "That was big amazing story? That not amazing! That not thrilling! That boring! Oh, me so disappointed!"
He covered his eyes, shook his head, then looked up.
"Ah, whatever. Comfort snack make everything better."
With that, he grabbed a bowl of cookies off the side table, and devoured them. When finished, he snatched the lamp and crunched it to pieces as the classy music swelled again, signaling the end of another Monsterpiece Theater.