EXT: A rainforest somewhere in Southeast Asia.

A naive British explorer has been separated from his tour group on a hike and found himself lost and alone in the treacherous jungle. As darkness begins to fall, he searches for safe refuge from the many dangers around him. As he passes by a waterfall, he catches a glimpse of something gold and shiny at the top of the cliff. He climbs the rocks, following the light, hoping it will lead him to safety. As he walks behind the waterfall, he discovers a cave with a pile of gold sitting right at the entrance. He immediately forgets all logic and reason and reaches for the gold. The gold immediately turns to dust in his hand.

Suddenly, he hears a loud roar coming from somewhere deep inside the save. A fire ignites and lights up the cave around him. As he looks around in awe at the endless treasures lining the cave, a shadow appears on the wall behind him. He turns around to see an angry dragon staring right at him.

DRAGON: Who are you and why are you here?

EXPLORER: You can talk?

DRAGON: Ugh, of course we can talk. You humans are so arrogant. You forgot the language of nature long ago. Everything around you can talk. You just don’t bother to listen or understand.

EXPLORER: Uhhh… I’m sorry?

DRAGON: Why are you here?

EXPLORER: I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was your cave. I got lost in the forest and needed a safe place to camp for the night.

DRAGON: I don’t see your camping gear. All I see is the pile of dust in your hand. You’re just here to steal my treasure, aren’t you?

EXPLORER: I’m not, I just—

DRAGON: Saw the gold, couldn’t resist, blah blah blah, heard it all before. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t devour you right now and save the leftovers for my midnight snack.

EXPLORER: Easy. I have yet to accomplish my greatest life dream.

DRAGON: Oh? You have a dream, do you? Well, I can grant you your wish on the condition you don’t steal my treasure.

EXPLORER: That sounds reasonable. We have a deal.

DRAGON: Well, go on then, what’s your wish?

EXPLORER: I wish I could go to America and go to a shitty little dive bar in a small town in the middle of nowhere and just drink a Coors and play pool with the locals.

DRAGON: Seriously? You humans are soooooo uncreative. The guy before you said he wanted to own his own business and you just want to go to a bar.

EXPLORER: I already have my own business.

DRAGON: I see. Well, if that is your wish, it is my command.

The Dragon snaps its fingers. The cave goes dark again. When the Explorer wakes up again, he finds himself on a bench outside of a little bar called Bloody Mary’s. The Explorer gasps, recognizing the name immediately.

EXPLORER: This is the bar from Betsey Horton’s story. I know this place. That must mean I’m in South Dakota! At last, my dream has finally come true!

The Explorer opens the door and walks into the bar. As soon as he steps foot inside, everyone in the room immediately stops what they’re doing and turns around to look at him. He can feel everyone staring at him as he walks past the regulars lined up at the bar. He takes a seat at the end of the bar next to a bald old man wearing sunglasses and nursing a Budweiser. A very handsome but weary-looking bartender appears to greet him.

BARTENDER: What’ll it be for you, Jack?

EXPLORER: I wish to have a Coors, please.

The Bartender makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

BARTENDER: So you enjoy cat piss, do you?

EXPLORER: I’ve never had a Coors. I’ve only seen Americans drinking it on the Telly back home in England. Is this what proper Americans drinking at an establishment such as this?

BARTENDER: No, we prefer PBR here. That being said, may I offer to upgrade you for free since you’re clearly not from around these parts?

EXPLORER: Uh, alright, sure.

The Bartender grabs a can of Modelo from the fridge and a chilled glass. He garnishes it with a lime and places it in front of the Explorer.

EXPLORER: This is a Mexican beer.

BARTENDER: This is my favorite beer. It’s on the house. Enjoy!

The Explorer takes a sip and shrugs, unsure of how he feels about the bartender’s choice. He nurses it slowly as he looks around the room. He sees a pool table, a giant Elk head with a cigarette in its mouth mounted above the bar, various old photos and little tchotchkes decorating the wall. He tries to ignore the fact that everyone in the bar is still staring at him with wide eyes.

BARTENDER: So, what brings you here all the way from England?

EXPLORER: You know, it’s just the funniest story. I was living in Bangkok and I met this American woman at a bar that looks very similar to this one. She told me she was a writer and had written a book about this place. She told me the owner banned her for life because of the stories she wrote. Personally, I thought the stories were quite charming and amusing. Not really sure what this owner chap was going on about. She told me he had her arrested for sitting on the sidewalk and writing in her notebook. Is that true?

BARTENDER: Uhh… well, you know, she was a threat to him.

EXPLORER: I mean, but what she really though? Or were you just acting delusional, deranged, and unhinged? Tell me, what harm has actually come to you from these stories?

BARTENDER: Well, when you put it that way…

EXPLORER: I thought you had freedom of speech here. You can’t just arrest someone because you don’t like what they wrote about you.

BARTENDER: Right.

EXPLORER: Anyway, I just couldn’t resist coming all the way here to see it for myself. The stories she told me were just… wow.

The Bartender’s face goes white as a ghost. The old man sitting next to the Explorer immediately swivels his chair around and looks him up and down. An eerie silence falls over the crowd.

BARTENDER: You came all the way here from Thailand just because this writer told you to?

EXPLORER: Yes, that is correct.

BARTENDER: And what did you say this writer’s name was again?

EXPLORER: Betsey Horton.

The crowd gasps. The Bartender’s mouth drops open in horror. A huge, yellow, toothy grin spreads across the old man’s face. He starts cackling loudly and turns back to the Bartender.

OLD MAN: Hey Andrew! I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. What do you think of your ol’ pal Mad Dog now? I sure know how to pick ‘em!

The Bartender’s face contorts as the realization finally washes over him. this is exactly the thing he has feared the most for almost a decade. Now, it has finally come to fruition.

ANDREW (THE BARTENDER): Betsey Horton…

MAD DOG (THE OLD MAN): That’s right. Betsey Horton! Betsey Horton! Betsey Horton!

ANDREW: Don’t do that! If you say her name three times in front of the mirror, she’ll appear behind you and put a curse on you forever!

DISEMBODIED VOICE: Did somebody say my name?

ANDREW: Oh Christ, now you’ve done it.

Andrew slowly turns around and sees none other than Betsey Horton standing right behind him. He screams and jumps back in terror at the sight of the fearsome ghost from his past.

BETSEY: Hello, darling. Miss me yet?

Both the Explorer and Mad Dog snicker as Andrew takes off running from behind the bar, out the front door, and off screaming into the night, never to be seen or heard from ever again.

BETSEY: Well, I guess I’ll be the Celebrity Bartender today. Anyone need a drink?

EXPLORER: Yes, please. This Mexican beer reminds me too much of your former lover. I wish to try a Coors instead.

BETSEY: Why are you drinking that cat piss? May I offer to upgrade you for free instead?

EXPLORER: I suppose.

Betsey pours a bit of orange juice into a glass and pours a Blue Moon from the tap.

EXPLORER: This is a Belgian beer.

BETSEY: Welcome to America!

EXPLORER: Please, I really wish to just try a Coors. Just once. I’ve seen it on the Telly and I just…

BETSEY: Alright, fine. Here’s you can of cat piss. Enjoy.

The Explorer takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

EXPLORER: Wow, it really does taste like cat piss.

BETSEY: Be careful what you wish for!

The End