Expectant parents, Ash and Leigh, were enjoying a quiet country drive. Lush trees zipped by while the sky above seemed to barely move at all. One last weekend together before baby, family, friends, neighbors, doctors and targeted mailers filled their lives.
“I think I have a name,” Ash said. She had been happily drumming on the steering wheel, but with the end of the song she found a great opportunity to introduce her topic.
“Shoot,” Leigh said. Her stare remained on the scenery moving by her passenger side window.
“Spoiler.” Ash said.
“If you ruin Black Mirror for me right now, I will be very upset,” Leigh moved her stare to Ash as a warning.
“No, no. Spoiler is the name!” Ash said. Leigh could not tell if it was a joke or not.
“Think about it! Every time she walks into a room we could shout, ‘Spoiler Alert!’ Dirty diaper? ‘Spoiler warning!’ Get a new car? ‘It comes with a Spoiler.” That’s a fairly specific instance, please retract from memory. When she’s hurt or is especially cute, we go all Whovian and get to say, ‘ah, Spoiler, sweetie’. It’s really the perfect name.” Ash explained.
Leigh whispered to their nameless daughter in waiting, “I have a spoiler alert, for you, you’ll be named something that’s not a terrible pun. A Who reference most certainly, but certainly not a pun.”