LEAKED: We discovered Ananas' cover letter from when he applied to work at Téléfrançais

December 1, 1983
Ananas Bronson
445 Avenue Road
Toronto, ON M4V 2J2

__________________________________________________________________

Hiring Committee, Téléfrançais
TVOntario
2180 Yonge Street
Toronto, ON M4S 2B9

Dear Hiring Committee,

Bonjour! Salut! Je suis un ananas, and I'd like to apply for your recent job posting for "Sentient, French-Speaking Tropical Fruit" at Téléfrançais. I'm not sure if your team is being relentlessly inundated with applications from all around the world, but as a sentient, French-speaking tropical fruit, I believe I am uniquely qualified to fill this role.

While I'm fairly new to television — my previous work experience has involved leaping out of tidy produce pyramids and terrifying the unsuspecting grocery shoppers at the Dominion near my apartment —  I've been steadily picking up background roles and cameo appearances over the last few years, which has helped me feel increasingly confident flaunting my lush, waxy, green plumage in front of the camera.

Getting ahead in one's career requires initiative, which is why sometimes I'll just sneak into a television scene without permission from my agent or the director, like the time I straight-up rolled down the shoreline for 90 full seconds on a Season 8 episode of Beachcombers. My audacious and daring act inspired the actors on the show to hone their improvisational skills. "Where did it come from??!" they gasped, veering wildly off-script. "Why is it here?" they shrieked. "Should we catch it and eat it?" they questioned each other. And then I really alarmed them when I raised my tiny yellow hand mid-roll, waved at them, and shouted, "Bonjour! Salut! Je suis un ananas!" as the salty tide pummelled me right to my juicy core.

To be honest, they weren't as weirded out by my sentience and mastery of the French language as I'd hoped they'd be, but then again, Beachcombers was shot in the '70s in small-town B.C., if you know what I'm saying. I'm pretty sure those guys saw sentient French-speaking pineapples even on days there were none.

Anyway, TVO. I have enormous, doleful eyes, tiny, snazzy-ass pants, and I'm deeply committed to helping the province in its mission to ensure that a generation of Ontario children develop a vague and questionable grasp on about 30ish% of their country's second official language, growing into confident adults who still remember how to ask in French, "Where is the pencil of my uncle?" at age 40.

Our partnership just makes sense. As of last month, I am Canada's only sentient French-speaking tropical fruit. I'm really not sure what happened to Mango Jacques, and it was definitely so weird that he was found dead in his bed, having been repeatedly stabbed by a — well, apparently they're saying it was a particularly thick pineapple leaf that had been expertly chiseled into a sharp point, but who knows. Could have been any weapon, really.

I'm a fast learner, I'm dynamite onscreen, I'm great with kids, and don't let my tough exterior fool you — inside, I'm actually quite tender. I would love to join the team at Téléfrançais and I look forward to hearing back from you at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,

Ananas Bronson

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