This is a public service announcement to let you know just how far my husband and I have our heads stuck up our American butts. I asked the Internet if it knew what Count von Count was calling his wife and what happened to my inbox is a little more than I bargained for. Someone even suggested that the fact that we are discussing the sexual antics of Sesame Street characters means we have way too much time on our hands. Excuse me? What do you do with your free time? You can’t tell me that you’re not the least bit curious about what goes on between two lovers who are only able to talk and move if they have hands shoved up their asses.
The overwhelming response indicated that he was calling her his Sachertorte, “a cake consisting of two layers of dense, fluffy chocolate dough with a thin layer of apricot jam in the middle and dark chocolate icing on the top and sides.” Makes sense, although, that’s not as fun to talk about with your mother-in-law as toe-sucking. Jon wasn’t there when I brought it up over the holiday, so I’m the only witness who can testify to the horror expressed in that room when I suggested that someone in the history of the world had put another person’s foot into their mouth.
Here’s the Wikipedia entry for Sachertorte.
While we’re referencing Wikipedia, check out this page for the Count von Count. I had guessed that the Count was about 350 years old, and many of you referenced this page to point out that the Count is a little bit older than that, by, oh, 1,832,302 YEARS. Do you know what this means? THE COUNT IS PROOF OF EVOLUTION, or at least that the Earth is a lot older than what is indicated in the Bible. And who are you going to believe? That guy, Jesus, or a purple vampire with OCD? No contest, is there?
Many of you also pointed out that the Countess is not the Count’s wife but just another in a string of lovers that he has discarded throughout history. He is, as some of you indicated, a duplicitous man-slut, a Cheater von Cheater. Proof can be found here and here. The Countess in the episodes we have seen is the Countess Von Backwards, whereas his previous lover was Countess Dahling von Dahling. You may not consider two different women as a string of lovers, but the Count is over 1.8 million years old and he’s still young enough at heart to call his lover a Chocolate Cake. By all indications he’ll be bumping hot, new vampire butt FOR A WHILE.
Some of you were just as confused as we were, and here are some of the more colorful guesses as to what he was saying:
“Secateur, you know, a small pair of shears with curved blades for pruning.”
“Maybe cicada? English pronunciation is si-ka-da. If Count is insinuating that she talks a lot, like the chattering noise of the cicada in the evening, that might be it.
“Mon sucre d’or! Literally ‘My golden sugar!’ in English.”
“â€˜Sucatorâ€™ could be a Romanian affectionate term, meaning â€˜little juice.â€™ Very gangster.”
“The closest I found in Romanian online dictionaries is the word ‘sacaitor’ which means naggy, pestersome, dragging, nuisance.”
“I think itâ€™s Italian for someone who works with plaster or stucco. Maybe heâ€™s hinting to the children that sheâ€™s plastered.”
“I don’t watch sesame street, but it kind of sounds like ‘zucchetto,’ that little cap worn by Catholic people.”
Finally, I got about 4,000 variations on TURN ON THE CLOSED-CAPTIONING, YOU IDIOT. Um, if I’m asking the Internet how to pronounce CRAYON, do you think I have a high enough number of brain cells to figure out how to turn on closed-captioning? Besides, some of you who didn’t kill your motor skills with tequila in your early twenties tried the closed-captioning route and what he calls her does not appear at the bottom of the screen BECAUSE EVEN THE CLOSED-CAPTIONING PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW. Obviously, the closed-captioning people need to ask the Internet.