Ernie (left) and Bert (right), longtime Sesame Street roommates whose domestic discord has soured air formerly considered "sweet"
NEW YORK – Police responded to a domestic dispute at a Sesame Street basement apartment last night, the latest in a string of altercations involving roommates Bert and Ernie. According to police, the dispute occurred when Ernie began playing “tag” while Bert tried to read.
“I tired to explain to him that I didn’t want to be ‘it,’” said Bert, “and when I finally tagged him he tagged me again. Oh, Ernie. He just doesn’t get it.”
Ernie claims it was simply a misunderstanding.
“Gee, I don’t know why my old buddy Bert flipped out like that,” Ernie said, “I was just trying to show him the importance of exercise. Plus, he was ‘it.’”
This wasn’t the first time Bert and Ernie have had arguments. Authorities have responded to incidents ranging from Ernie playing drums while Bert tried to sleep, Ernie eating all of Bert’s chocolate ice cream, and Ernie pretending a banana was a telephone. Since Ernie’s alleged behavior is boorish but not illegal, there is little the authorities can do.
Anger at Ernie is not limited to his mono-browed companion. After the most recent episode, a group of neighbors gathered at the late Mr. Hooper’s store to voice their outrage over what they consider Ernie’s increasingly insensitive behavior. Former business associate Oscar the Grouch nearly flipped his lid telling how he tried to help Ernie find his lost rubber ducky.
“He told me to duck off,” Grouch said. “So I scrammed.”
Local nobility, Count Von Count, counted “Seventeen, seventeen ways Ernie ticks me off, ah, ah, ah,” including a disastrous stint with Ernie as the Count’s personal assistant.
Another resident, Linda, became so irate during the discussion that she was unable to speak and resorted to wild, unintelligible gesticulations.
Ernie declined to comment on the growing list of grievances – including inappropriate use of the letter “P” – yet one neighbor has stood up on his behalf.
Longtime racquetball partner, Cookie Monster, said he sympathizes with Ernie.
“Me know what it like to be pariah,” Monster said. “To not be able to control yourself, it gobble up your life and your relationships.”
Monster made headlines last year when he went on a letter-eating rampage that left the neighborhood – and the alphabet – in a broken state. It wasn’t until then-girlfriend, Prairie Dawn, served him a restraining order that Monster, in his words, “took stock of me life.”
Burdened by a congenital eye condition, Monster blames the ridicule he endured as a child for the pent up aggression that led to his destructive habits. Through therapy, Monster made peace with his issues and believes Ernie should do the same, possibly through a group intervention or a sing-a-long.
“It time for [Ernie] to get help,” Monster said.
Despite Monster’s support and the growing neighborhood outcry, little has been done to curb Ernie’s habits. The neighborhood meeting adjourned with a rousing recap of the letter- and number-of-the-day, but little in the way of practical solutions.
As everyone settled into their houses, nests, and trash cans for the night, a familiar sound drifted up from a certain basement apartment: the plaintive groan of a roommate trying to sleep, muffled by his snickering roommate. Sesame Street’s so-called “orange menace” had struck again.
