When I learned that Beekman 1802 was launching the collection, my inner Moira Rose squealed. And then the rest of the family jumped out, too. Below, an imagined conversation.
INT. ROSE MOTEL ROOM - DAY
Moira Rose is kneeling on the floor, furiously tearing through a cloth tote bag that bears the words “Simply the Best” on it. She is shrieking as she pulls out several white jars and wrapped bars of soap. She holds them up, assesses them, then screams in agony again.
Moira: NO!!!!! David! NO!!!!!
ALEXIS runs in from adjacent room.
Alexis: Mom! Stop screaming! [Moira’s screams evolve into catlike whimpers as she shrinks into a fetal position, gently rocking. Alexis waits a beat.] Mom! What??
Moira: Oh, Alexis. Something terrible has happened. Some fraudulent apothecarist has absconded with the Rose family name, utterly stealing what your brother has, after decades of wandering aimlessly with no ambition or seemingly obvious skillsets, poured his blood, sweat, and tears into for the past two years.
DAVID walks in, followed by JOHN. DAVID sees MOIRA, throws his hands up in utter confusion.
David: What are you talking about?
MOIRA looks up, regains some composure.
Moira: David! Oh, David, your tinctures, elixirs, and salves have been blatantly repurposed into these [Assesses the jar in her hand] … rather chic but PLAGIARIZED salves and soaps that … perhaps you and Patrick might have considered sourcing when you first hung your shingle bearing our coat of arms.
David: We don’t have a coat of arms. [Beat.] Although we did come close a few years ago when Alexis had that momentary dalliance with a certain hair- challenged prince …
John: Son, I’m proud of you. That entrepreneurial Rose gene might not be so latent, after all!
MOIRA nevertheless begins to apply the body cream onto her arms. DAVID grabs the body cream from her.
David: I told you we were doing this with Beekman 1802. [Beat. MOIRA looks at him with a blank stare.] We talked about this. You literally told me it was a good idea and that you would even consider buying one of the soaps.
ALEXIS claps her hands, excited yet patronizing.
Alexis: Aw, David and Patrick’s first collab. [She opens the lip balm.] Mmmm, smells yummy. What is it?
David: Um. Rose. Their idea. Put that lip balm back, Alexis. [Alexis hesitates.] This isn’t the VIP tent at Coachella. [Alexis still hesitates.] I don’t care if you sampled it. It’ll be our tester.
ALEXIS throws lip balm at David.
Alexis: David! Ew!
MOIRA stands up and John puts his arm around her, their faces filled with pride.
Moira: David Rose, I commend you on your entrepreneurial business savvy. And should you, in the future, find yourself expanding your collection with perhaps a perfume, let us not overlook the coincidental fact that the word “eau” bears a sub-tle similarity to the first syllable of my name. Eau. Moi-ra. [Swallows second syllable.]
David: Moira de Rose. [Also swallows second syllable of “Moira”.] Great idea. Hmmm, might it be laced with top notes of ivy leaves, middle notes of rose, jasmine and neroli blossom, and bottom notes of geranium and sandalwood?
Moira: That is a commendable start, indeed! You might not be aware that your mother had many a hand in some of the world’s top olfactive creations. May I remind you that yours truly was the muse for a certain Electric Youth fragrance back in the ’80s … ?
David and Alexis, in unison: That was Debbie Gibson.
Moira: [Hands on hips.] WHO WAS MY MENTEE! Do you think she just conjured up that signature porkpie chapeau herself?
David: Yeah. I guess the wig platform was already spoken for. Anyway, please put all of these products neatly back in that artisanal tote. They’re a limited edition.
Moira: [Claps her hands, excitedly.] Maybe we can extend it to coincide with “The Crowening” premiere. I can already see the name: Rose Apothecrowy.
David: I’ll be sure to bring it up. A bird-poop candle just screams [in stage whisper] SOLD OUT!
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