Scene: Our living room, the other day.
Dramatis personae: Matt and I. I’m sitting on the couch and have just popped in the first DVD of the new adaptation of Charles Dickens’s Bleak House, rented from Netflix. Matt is sitting at his computer and can’t see the TV.
From the TV, we hear the sound of horses and carriages and falling rain. Lots of galloping and rushing and ominous music. This goes on for a couple of minutes. Then the scene changes; we hear the sound of an indoor hubbub, a crowd of people. The smash of a gavel.
Voice from TV: Silence in the court!
Second voice from TV: Now we come, not for the first time, to Jarndyce and Jarndyce.
Matt: This seems like a pretty elaborate setup for just a reality show.
Me: …
Matt: …
Me: …
Matt: Isn’t this a reality show?
Long pause.
Me (confused): Uh, no…
Another long pause, then something finally clicks inside my head.
Oh my god, are you thinking of 1900 House? Or maybe Frontier House? Those reality shows?
Matt (beginning to laugh): Oh… maybe…
Me: This is CHARLES DICKENS!
Matt: Oh, okay! I was like, “Why is Jeff renting a random reality show?”
Matt and I spend the next several minutes doubled over in laughter until our stomach muscles hurt and we can hardly breathe. I finally have to go into a different room to get myself to stop.
Exeunt.