Author: Betsey Horton

STORY: Sam’s Little Sister

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Sam’s Mom arrives at Coyote University to help her daughter Vicky move into her freshman dorm. Vicky, who was hoping to go to college somewhere much further away from her family members, is not exactly thrilled at the prospect of once again spending the next four years of her life as “Sam’s Little Sister.”

Her worst fear is immediately confirmed when she goes to pick up her room keys. A set of blonde twins wearing lanyards around their necks are running the check-in table.

“Hi there! Welcome to the dorms! First and last name, please.”

“Vicky Shepherd.”

“Oh, are you Sam’s little sister?”

“Yeah,” Vicky says dryly. She frowns at her Mom. The twins look at each other and giggle.

“Yeah… we know Shep.”

Sam’s Mom raises her eyebrow. The twins hand Vicky her keys and start giggling again. They smile brightly at her.

“Welcome to the dorms!” they say in unison.

When they go upstairs, Vicky meets her new RA.

“Are you Sam’s little sister?” she asks excitedly.

“I sure am,” Vicky says, rolling her eyes. “Let me guess… you know him too.”

“Yeah, I know Shep,” she says with a laugh. “I know Shep very well. I see him around here all the time.”

Sam’s Mom’s mouth drops open.

“Welcome to the floor!” the RA says, showing Vicky to her room.

Sometime later, they go over to pick up Vicky’s class schedule. To the surprise of absolutely no one, the secretary recognizes her last name immediately.

“Are you Sam’s little sister?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I see you’ve met him before too.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, flipping her hair back. “I know Shep.”

Sam’s Mom shakes her head in disbelief.

“Welcome to Coyote University!”

Vicky storms out of the office angrily. When they go to the book store to pick up Vicky’s books, the same thing happens all over again.

“Are you Sam’s little sister?” asks the girl behind the counter.

“Maybe,” Vicky snaps.

“Yeah, I know Shep,” she says with a sneaky little smile. “We study together in the library.”

“Study?” asks Sam’s Mom.

“Yeah,” she sighs dreamily. “Study…”

Finally, they decide to stop at the student center for a coffee.

“Oh! You’re not Sam’s little sister, are you?”

Vicky is so upset she can’t even respond at this point.

“Yeah, I know Shep too,” says the barista, crossing her arms and frowning. “All the girls around here know who he is.”

Vicky and her Mom walk back to Vicky’s dorm together.

“What’s my son been doing that all these girls know who he is?” their Mom wonders aloud.

“Come on, Mom,” Vicky says, rolling her eyes. “It’s pretty obvious what he’s been doing.”

All of a sudden, Sam walks in carrying a box of Vicky’s stuff. His shirt is notably absent. All of the women in the hallway stop what they’re doing to watch him walk by.

“Hey Vicky,” he says. “I brought in the last of your stuff for ya.”

All of the women’s eyes shift to Vicky. She looks around the hall nervously.

“Can’t wait to have my little sis at school with me again!” Sam says cheerfully.

Vicky scowls at him.

“Yeah.”

“So,” Sam says just loud enough so everyone can hear. “We’re having a party over at the Basketball House tonight. You can come if you want to. Maybe you can even bring some of your new friends.”

All of the freshman girls let out a collective gasp. Vicky’s scowl turns into a glare.

“We’ll see.”

“Yeah, just let me know whenever.”

Vicky turns around and goes back into her room in a huff. A moment later, Sam’s Mom calls out to him.

“Sam, can you come in here for a minute, please?”

“Yeah, sure. Just let me put my shirt back on.”

When Sam walks into Vicky’s dorm room, their Mom is standing there with her arms crossed.

“What?” he asks innocently. “It was hot outside.”

“It’s her first day of college,” she says in a low voice. “She wants to make her own friends. Can you just… cool it down, please?”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Can I have my car keys back now, please?”

“Sure,” Sam says, tossing her the keys. “I parked it right out front for ya.”

“Thanks, honey.”

“See you later, Vicky!”

Sam winks at her and saunters off down the hall.

“I can’t do this,” Vicky says. “I want to go home right now.”

Her Mom shakes her head.

“Just look on the bright side, sweetie,” she says. “At least you’ll never have any shortage of new friends.”

Sometime later, after their Mom has finally left, Vicky hears a knock at the door. When she opens it, a group of girls is standing outside in the hall.

“Hey,” says the leader girl. “Your name is Vicky, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Was that guy who was here earlier your older brother?”

“Maybe. Who wants to know?”

“Well, we heard him mention something about a party later, and we were just wondering if you were still planning on going. We wouldn’t want you to go alone or anything. It’s better if a group of girls all go together. You know, for safety reasons.”

“Yeah,” pipes up a second girl. “Safety reasons.”

Vicky looks at the girls hesitantly.

“I don’t know…” she says half-heartedly.

“Come on,” says the leader girl. “I bet it will be fun! It’s our first big college party! We can all go down to the dining hall first and then get ready in our rooms later. Then we can all go together.”

“Well…”

“Please?” all the girls say in unison.

Vicky lets out a heavy sigh.

“Okay. We can go to the stupid basketball party, but don’t ask me to introduce you to my brother. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to take care of that himself.”

All the girls smile together. As they walk down to the dining hall, Vicky decides to take her Mom’s advice. Maybe it’s better to look on the bright side after all.

The End

STORY: The Legend of Chico

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One not-so-ordinary day, I was sitting at Bloody Mary’s Bar talking to Mad Dog when suddenly, he mentioned a character by the name of Chico.

“Wait, wait,” I said, lifting my hand to interrupt him. “Stop right there. Who the hell is Chico?”

Mad Dog looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

“You wanna know about Chico?” he asked slowly. “I’ll tell you about Chico. Chico used to be the Owner of Bloody Mary’s Bar.”

“What?!” I exclaimed. “Really?”

“That’s right,” Mad Dog said. “Chico was one of the shadiest guys in town. He was Greek. You know how Greeks are. They’re like Jews. They’re nothing by liars and thieves.”

I let out a heavy sigh and gave Mad Dog a Look.

“Can we please refrain from making offensive generalizations about different ethnicities and perpetuating racist stereotypes?”

Mad Dog looked at me as if I had just spoken to him in a foreign language. He looked my face over carefully.

“Yeah, now I see it,” he said. “You got a little bit of something in you. Are you Jewish or are you Greek?”

“I’m a Citizen of the World,” I said proudly. “I’ve got a little bit of everyone in me.”

Mad Dog shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he said. “About Chico. He was one shady guy. Not the kind of person you want to mess around with. One thing’s for certain, though. He sure did know how to get the job done.”

I opened up my notebook and started taking notes immediately. Mad Dog looked off into the distance nostalgically and began telling me the story.

“It was bar against bar. A race to the top. Chico screwed over a lot of people to get there. A lot of people were after him. He owed money all around town. He owed so much money, they even put a price on his head. There were Wanted Posters everywhere. Then one day, Chico disappeared. Just up and left town without telling a soul. No one knew where he was. There were plenty of theories, of course. Most people say he’s still hiding out back home in Greece. Anyway, a couple of months later, Chico was found dead in a canyon somewhere in Colorado, half-eaten by wolves. No one knows if it was a murder or a suicide.”

Mad Dog paused as if to say “The End.” I stared at him wide-eyed for some time before I finally managed to snap out of it.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it.”

I stared at him with my mouth wide open.

“You’re telling me the Former Owner of Bloody Mary’s Bar was found dead in a random canyon somewhere half-eaten by wolves?”

Mad Dog nodded.

“That’s right,” he said again.

I shook my head in disbelief.

“Seven years!” I exclaimed. “Seven years I’ve lived here and nobody ever told me this story? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Mad Dog looked over at me and smiled.

“You really are a writer, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Of course I am,” I said. “Why else would I follow you around?”

He smiled at me again.

“So,” I said. “Who do I have to talk to around here to find out more about this Chico character?”

“Oh,” Mad Dog said, shaking his head. “You don’t just go around asking questions about Chico. Nobody in this town is going to talk to you about Chico.”

“But I thought you said Chico was dead.”

“It doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “You can’t just go around asking questions about Chico.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I’m just letting you know right now, the next time I come back here, I’m going to start asking questions about Chico.”

“Good luck,” said Mad Dog. “No one in this town in going to talk to you about Chico.”

The next time I went to Bloody Mary’s Bar, I decided to start asking questions about Chico.

“So…” I said pleasantly, cozying up to the Line of Death after another successful round of Jeopardy. “Did any of you guys ever know a character by the name of Chico?”

All of the old men in the room gave me the same look at once.

“Who wants to know?” one of them asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I’m just a writer,” I said. “I like to write about Bloody Mary’s Bar. I heard a story about Chico and I thought he sounded like an interesting character. It’s not every day you hear a story about someone who was found dead in a canyon somewhere half-eaten by wolves. I’m interested in hearing the rest of the story.”

All of the old men glared at me again.

“Oh, you’re a writer huh?” another asked. “Sounds more like a Troublemaker to me.”

“Yeah,” said another. “What makes you think you can just come in here and start asking questions about Chico?”

“Sounds to me like you need to learn how to mind your own business,” chimed in the last.

I was caught off-guard by their reaction. I had no idea it was such a big deal to start asking questions about Chico.

“I’m sorry,” I said politely. “I was under the impression that Chico was deceased.”

“I don’t know about that,” said PJ. “If there was ever a person I knew in my life who would fake his own death to get out of some trouble he was in, it was Chico.”

“You knew Chico?” I asked with a dazzled look in my eyes.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many years ago. He was very good to me. He always treated me fair. I was sad to see him go. Then again, you never know. I went to the funeral. They never opened the coffin. I still like to think he’s over in Greece with his family, relaxing on a beach somewhere eating a delicious gyro.”

I smiled at him.

“I think that’s how I prefer the story to end,” I said.

“Me too,” said PJ.

All of us sat together in silence for a minute. Finally, PJ went back to the bar and I went back back to Mad Dog.

“See?” said Mad Dog. “I told you. Nobody in this town is going to say a goddamn word to you about Chico.”

The End

Overheard at Bloody Mary’s Bar

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One of my favourite things about being a writer is my collection of quotes. I have been collecting them since I was in high school. The following is a collection of quotes taken from my favourite bar, Bloody Mary’s. I have mined them from several notebooks I’ve used over the last three years. Some are attributed, while others are not. I hope you enjoy the show!

Mad Dog: This place sucks. Let’s go to Cleo’s.
Me: Ugh, why on Earth would anyone ever want to go to Cleo’s?
Mad Dog: The beer here is too expensive.
Me: It’s not expensive compared to a city. Besides, you’re not paying for the beer. You’re paying for the Bloody Mary’s Bar Experience™.
Mad Dog: What’s that? Sitting at the bar alone while everyone else in the room judges you?
Me: I see what you’re saying, but why sit at the bar when you can go outside and sit on the patio?
Mad Dog: You got on me on that one right there.

“What is it? The 1800’s?”
“Well, it is South Dakota.”

“Are you finished?”
“Yeah, I’m Finnish. Just kidding! I’m Polish.”

“He’s the Cornelius Vanderbilt of Social Security.”
“What does that even mean?”

“I keep my house emasculate.”

“If you’re seen slow dancin’ with him, it’ll ruin your reputation.”

“My couch may pull out, but I don’t.”

“I took so many pictures last night, I had to delete some apps to make room for them all.”

“I gave up Catholicism for Lent… five years ago.”

“Do you think we’ll ever make it back out to the Hills alive?”
“You two sound like a couple of old cowboys.”
“We are a couple of old cowboys.”

Mad Dog: Let me tell you a story about that guy sitting right over there. That guy was hired to kill me. He tried everything. He even tried to run me over with his car. Finally, he realized, he can’t kill me. I’m invincible.

Mad Dog: Andrew used to be a fun guy. Always surrounded by women! Women everywhere! He was nice until he became–
Andrew: A Capitalist?

“Sioux Falls is like a suburb without a city.”

Mad Dog: In a few years, you can retire. Upgrade to Executive Level. Become a traveling bartender. You know… Ski Slope Mama.
Andrew: Ski Slope Mama???

Mad Dog: [points to my phone] Can you find me a list of everyone who’s currently in jail?

“George W. Bush definitely has Jedi Powers. Did you see him dodge those shoes? Normal people can’t do that.”

Andrew: I went to Prom Dinner at Al’s Oasis.
Me: You went to Prom Dinner at The Taxidermy Capital of the World?!
Andrew: What? It’s a nice place. It’s the nicest place in town!
Me: [horrified stare]

“You’re not a real Catholic until you’ve had an exorcism.”

“It’s always been one of my dreams to pop an eye out.”

“I would never never teach Sylvia Plath, just because I would never want to be implicated in someone’s suicide.”

“The other day I was just driving along and everything was so idyllic, you know? And then I thought… I might die here.”

“I’m not gay, but I’ve got a huge guy crush on Steve McQueen!”

“I worked in a slaughter house once. I lasted a day. Not because I was against it, but because it was too far away.”

Tattoo Guy: There’s nobody real in this bar tonight. Everyone is just an actor playing their part on the stage of life. It’s all so fake and meaningless.
Me: Wow, TG, that’s actually really deep and insightful. I’m totally going to write that one down in my notebook.

Me: Oh, like Fixer-Upper?
Andrew’s Mom: More like… Burner-Downer!

“He’s ex-military.”
“Oh, so it’s his job to be an asshole.”
“Yeah, old ex-military is the worst.”

“It’s hot. I’m hungry. They’re 18. Let’s go.”

Me: [barging into Bloody Mary’s right at opening] Is there something going on here that I should know about?!
PJ: Uhh… there’s an employee meeting at five?

“Oh, you made multiple mistakes tonight? Welcome to Bloody Mary’s Bar.”

“Here, you smoke this while I go get a drink.”

“It’s not a real 21st birthday if you don’t end up in a jail cell.”

“They call him Smoke Manning.”

“It’s not Betsey. I would have heard her.”

“I literally have a Masters degree in figuring people out and I don’t understand what’s going on with men.”

Some Rando Who Just Got Out of Jail: This town is bizarre. It’s like I’m trapped in some kind of movie.

“I looked out my window and it was like a time warp.”

“I thought it’d be a dirty old cattle town, but it was actually a nice, clean place.”

“They call him Shithouse Dan. He’s from Texas. We wrote a song about him.”

Townie: [to Andrew] You’re better in real life.

Me: Owl, when did we find out who Edward Snowden was?
Owl: June 5th, 2013. Wait, who is we? Do you mean me, or everybody else?

Mad Dog: Did you get married?
Townie: Yes.
Mad Dog: [shakes his head and rolls his eyes] Another Idiot.
[All the married men in the room laugh. Andrew laughs the loudest.]

“My only plan in life is not to have a plan.”

“Smokin’ dope and runnin’ porn.”
“Sounds like the life.”

Mad Dog: Why aren’t you out there stealing Trump signs? That’s where all the money is!

“Can I get you something?”
“A new life.”

“I’m gonna squeeze it like it’s a chicken’s neck.”

“I don’t want to pee or piss all over your place of business.”

“So you’re mad at me because I have too many opinions?”
“Yes.”

[introducing me to someone new]
“This is the woman who owns my soul.”

“With all the money I handle, I probably have the immune system of a cockroach.”

“Sorry I’m not all smiles today!”

“What’s the matter? Why do you have that look on your face? Haven’t you ever smoked weed out of a giant plastic bag before?”
“No!”

“I love Star Wars!”
“Who doesn’t? [long pause] Fascists.”

“I don’t necessarily have the nicest wiener.”

“I don’t think you realize that when a jackal gets hungry, it eats.”

“I’m not saying you’re my Rosaline. You might be Juliet!”

“I’m immune to the charms of most men.”

“This song really pushes the boundaries of what it means to be music.”

Me: [comes in a cowboy-like getup]
Bartender: Why are you dressed like that?
Me: This is how South Dakota people dress.
Bartender: I’ve never seen a South Dakotan dressed like that.

“You ever look at people and think, wow, drugs are bad? Well, these are the kind of people you look at and think, wow, drugs are magic!”

“I feel like we all have pieces of the same story.”

Artist Kid: [comes in wearing a vintage leather jacket] On a scale of 1-10, how Kyle is this jacket?

“And then the evil villain mastermind sent his henchmen to spy on me.”

“My stripper name is Diamond.”

Mad Dog: [randomly, out of nowhere] Have you ever met the Hershey’s Chocolate Family?
Me: What?
Mad Dog: Hershey’s… like the chocolate.
Me: What?
Mad Dog: They’re from Germany.

Mad Dog: [talking and talking] You got all this down?

Me: I’m hungry.
Date for the Evening: Me too.
Me: Let’s go get R-Pi.
Date: No way. Can’t do it. [long and calculating pause] That would absolutely destroy my calorie count for the day.

“There’s an awful lot of ass-fucking going on around here.”
“Well, it is South Dakota.”

Mad Dog: Every day is Halloween.

“My mother always used to say that if you gotta go, you say you gotta water the lilies.”

Me: I’m gonna go watch Andrew paint the awning.
Mad Dog: Me too! I hope he’s wearing his tight little shorts.
Me: [excitedly] Me too!

“Haven’t you ever gotten naked and rolled around in paint before?”

“He lived in his house for eight years and only cleaned his bathroom once. He is The Most Interesting Man in the World.”

Mad Dog: Andrew, you’re the only person in this world that I like.

Mad Dog: Garden Gnomes are my favourite animal.

“I made a beer bong out of a flamingo lawn ornament in college. We called it The Flabongo.”

Mad Dog: You know the only reason why I like baseball?
Me: Why?
Mad Dog: Because it was the only thing they let us watch in study hall.

“Take your work seriously, but not your life.”

“I’m not thinking right now. I’m just talking.”

“Winter is for getting drunk and pissing all over yourself.”

“Sorry I wasn’t smiling at 7am!”

“I’m not really a joke person. I’m more like an anecdote kind of person.”

“Do you live out in the country?”
“No, I live on Jefferson Street.”

“You know you’ve hit a low point in life when you’re getting into a fistfight over a 30-pack of Keystone Light.”

“I’ll have a water with no ice, please.”

Rando from SoMD: I hope you put Southern Maryland on the map.
Me: Be careful what you wish for.

“Welcome to Bloody Mary’s International. The Owl is flying. Jester can check the luggage. He’s not allowed near the bar anymore after mixing this terrible drink.”

“You’re just like my pinky toe. You’re cute and little and I’m probably going to bang you on the table later tonight.”

Mad Dog: [catches me sitting on the bench outside of Bloody Mary’s] Well, well, well… look who I found sitting out on the streets of Paris.

“All I know about the Illuminati is that they’re on the dollar bill.”

“Oh my god! There’s not enough brains in all three of them to make one!”

“I’m sure I’ll see you all much sooner than I want to.”

“I worked at that gas station before it was a Casey’s.”

“I’ll have the cheapest beer you have.”

Me: I was actually supposed to meet somebody important here tonight.
Mad Dog: Was it me? I’m the only person who’s important here.

Me: That was fun.
Mad Dog: Not as fun as watching a sunset.

Mad Dog: Hey Andrew! Are you ready to go to the strip club now?
Andrew: [dead serious] Yes.

Mad Dog: And that was the first time I saw a really nice set of titties.
Me: The End.

SCRIPT: The Mural On The Wall

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Betsey is sitting out on the patio of Bloody Mary’s writing in her notebook. Suddenly, a group of men come along and start getting ideas.

Andrew: I’m thinking about painting a mural right here. I have a vision in my head.

Guys: Tell us, Andrew! You’re soooooooo Great. We love you soooooo much!

Andrew: Thank you, thank you. What can I say? I am a pretty Great guy.

Guys: Tell us your vision, Andrew!

Andrew: It should be a mural of a Sexy Serving Slut!

Guys: That’s a Great idea, Andrew! Wow, you’re sooooooo Great.

Betsey: Seriously?

Andrew: She can be serving PBR! I can get the company to pay for it. I’m all about that corporate sponsorship. I get to take a little bit off the top for myself.

Betsey: Is that how you do it?

Andrew: Yes.

Guys: We don’t even care! We live to serve you, Andrew! We think you’re sooooooo Great. We all just want to be you.

Andrew: Thank you, thank you.

Betsey: Wait a second. You’re telling me you want to paint a mural of a beautiful woman serving drinks on that wall?

All the guys get hearts in their eyes and boners in their pants. They sigh dreamily together.

Guys: Yes…

Betsey: Umm… I mean… there aren’t really a whole lot of women who work here, so. Yeah. That’s not really an accurate depiction of what’s going on here. If anyone’s a Sexy Serving Slut, it’s Andrew. He can be the model!

Andrew: [shyly] You really think so?

Betsey: I know so.

Andrew: Well, thank you, but I don’t know if I have time to pose for a mural. I’m just so busy being Great all the time.

Betsey: That’s okay. You can just get Teen Angel to do it.

Teen Angel: [stands up and pumps his fist in the air] Yes!!!

Betsey: [singing softly] Started from the bottom, now we here…

Teen Angel: That’s what I’m saying!

Andrew: Okay, well let’s get this local artist who specializes in painting signs to do it.

The Artist comes in for a consultation. He leers at Betsey and asks him to model for her. She goes to his studio and discovers he is a creepy, predatory, perverted individual who likes 13 year old girls. His wife is in on the whole thing.

The Artist makes Betsey like a cheap whore. She leaves his studio and never goes back ever again. She comes to Bloody Mary’s and drinks for the rest of the day. She gives the dirty money to PJ just because she doesn’t want it in her hands.

Betsey suddenly realizes she drove out to this man’s farm out in the middle of nowhere all alone. Mad Dog says he should have gone with her. She feels sick to her stomach. Who knows what could have happened to her out there?

The Artist and Andrew sit down together for the consultation.

Andrew: This is my vision.

The Artist sketches Andrew’s vision right in front of his eyes. He is amazed and inspired.

Andrew: That looks Great! That’s exactly what I want!

The Artist: Okay, I can do that. That’ll cost you $1500.

Andrew: What?! Are you fucking kidding me? No way!

The Artist: I can do a smaller, less elaborate sign for less.

Andrew: What if it was just the PBR logo?

The Artist: It’s still going to cost you a lot. I’m a specialist. My time and talents are valuable.

Andrew: Okay, let me think about it.

The Artist leaves. Betsey writes a note to Andrew explaining what happened to her. He gets really upset and they get into a huge argument in the middle of the bar on Friday afternoon.

Andrew: You’re too opinionated! Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut?

Betsey: You don’t understand! That’s not who I am! That’s not where I’m from! I’m from Washington, D.C. There was a terrorist attack there when I was 13 years old! My Family knew people who died! I saw the ruins two days after it happened! If you see something, you say something. People’s lives are at stake here, Andrew! I can’t just not say something!

Andrew: I have feelings for you.

Betsey: What?

Andrew: I have feelings for you. I’m married.

Betsey: I have feelings for you. You’re married.

Andrew: What do we do now?

Betsey: I don’t know.

Betsey leaves and tries to avoid him for awhile. It doesn’t work. It only makes everything worse. She comes back to the bar when he’s not there. She is still extremely bothered by the sign issue. She looks around the patio and has a sudden realization. She walks up to Andrew and taps him on the shoulder.

Andrew: What?

Betsey: About the sign…

Andrew: Yes?

Betsey: Why don’t you just take the one hanging above the awning and hang it up on the wall? What’s it doing all the way up there anyway? No one can really see it. It should be hanging on the wall.

Andrew mouth drops wide open. He stands there looking at her in shock.

Betsey: You never even thought of that, did you?

Andrew: No.

Betsey: [shakes her head in disbelief] This is why you need more women around the place.

Andrew: I know.

Betsey: I just saved you $1500 and needless association with a creepy pervert. What are you going to do now?

Andrew: I’m going to Disney World!

The End

SCRIPT: Three Little Birds

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​The Council of Three Birds Meets To Discuss Betsey

Turkey: Well, guys… What is the consensus? What do we think of this little Crow? This Writer Extraordinaire?

Pheasant: I don’t like her. I think she is crazy.

Owl: I like her. She is very intelligent. There is much more going on with her than meets the eye. You just have to get to know her.

Turkey: I don’t really know her that well, but I’m really starting to like her. Those stories she writes are funny. I like the way she writes about me.

Pheasant: That’s only because the top three words she uses to describe you are “hot,” “sexy,” and “handsome.”

Turkey: What can I say? I’m a good-looking guy. Charming. Magnetic. Powerful. [He smooths back his hair] It’s hard to go wrong with a guy like me. I can see why she’s so captivated. And who can blame her? What woman can resist me? I’m the one in charge here. You might even say I have the biggest antlers of all the elk in the forest. [He stands there admiring himself in the mirror just a little bit longer]

Owl and Pheasant roll their eyes and exchange a look.

Pheasant: I don’t know. I’m not sure about her. I just don’t think I can trust her. She’s definitely a troublemaker.

Owl: Oh, she’s not dangerous. She just likes to stir the pot. Turn the heat up on whatever’s already been simmering for awhile, you know what I’m saying?

Turkey: I understand exactly what you’re saying. [He sits back and strokes his beard for just a moment] Perhaps a little Trouble is just what we need to brighten this place up. It’s been too much of the same for too long. We are all very bored, are we not, gentlemen? We need something to entertain us now that this dreary existence has become even more dull.

Pheasant: You have a thing for her, don’t you?

Turkey: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Pheasant: You definitely have a thing for her.

Turkey: I do not have a thing for her!

Pheasant: Yes, you do. I’ve seen the way you look at her.

Turkey: I’m not looking at her!

Owl: She has a thing for you too. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.

Turkey: She’s not looking at me!

Pheasant: And we’ve all seen the way she writes about you in her diary. You were just gushing about how much you loved it earlier, were you not?

Turkey: Uhhh…

Pheasant: Stop trying to hide it! Everyone knows! We make fun of you all the time.

Turkey: Everyone knows?

Owl: Yes. It is very obvious something has been going on between you two. Honestly, I’m not surprised. I predicted this outcome many years ago. Now, my prediction has come true, as many of my predictions are wont to do.

Pheasant: Look, I’m not saying you should get involved with her, but that girl desperately needs to get fucked. I have never met a more tightly-wound, high-strung, stuck-up, snot-nosed, elitist bitch in my entire fucking life. I would love nothing more than to see you take that insufferable cunt down by about fifteen fucking notches.

Turkey: Jeez, Pheasant, tell us how you really feel.

Owl: Good luck with that one. She is not going to make it easy for you.

Turkey: Whatever! No woman can say no to me! Not even that one!

Owl: She won’t say no to you, but she will say no to that wedding ring on your finger. Why would she settle for cold, leftover soup when she knows she deserves a full Thanksgiving feast? That woman right there is looking for a thousand reasons to say no. You have to give her a reason to say yes.

Turkey: Challenge Accepted.

Pheasant: Good luck, soldier. You’re doing God’s work out there. I mean that sincerely, because I can’t even begin to imagine going anywhere near her.

Turkey: Well, they don’t call me The Whoremonger for nothing!

All three birds laugh together.

The End

STORY: The House of Ill-Repute

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Somewhere in the remote desert of Nevada, I passed a sign for the infamous Moonlite Bunny Ranch. I was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon the world-famous brothel. In fact, I had already encountered it twice before on my journey. First, as the subject of a documentary I watched in my “Philosophy of Sex and Love” class in college. Second, as the site of the near-fatal drug overdose of Khloé Kardashian’s ex-husband just a week before.

I’ve never been one to judge someone for participating in the world’s oldest profession. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing wrong with exchanging sex for money as long as all parties involved are consenting. Unfortunately, far too many are forced into the industry against their will.

I admit that the well-being of prostitutes had never been a concern of mine until I encountered some in the small South Dakota town where I live. The circumstances surrounding it are strange, but it really did happen.

One completely ordinary summer night, I accidentally stumbled into a brothel. I was walking home alone one night from a party when I suddenly felt the unwanted presence of someone behind me. I heard the sound of an evil laugh and booked it across the street as fast as possible. I ran up the front steps of the first house with its lights on and banged on the door. A group of girls was standing on the porch.

“Let me in!” I screamed. “Please let me in! There’s something following me. Please let me in!”

As soon as the screen door opened, I stumbled inside and collapsed into the floor. I’m not sure how long the panic attack lasted or how long I was passed out. All I knew was that when I finally woke up and looked around, I was in a house of ill-repute.

I looked at the faces of the four women surrounding me. All four of them were staring at me with concern. The first, a tall, skinny girl with her wig askew atop her head. The second, a petite, curvy girl with long, natural hair. The third, a pasty, pregnant girl with broken teeth and unnaturally long toenails. Finally, a beautiful, young blonde girl whose face I was certain I’d seen somewhere many years before.

“Are you okay?” asked the Blonde Girl. “You totally freaked out.”

“What happened?” I asked. “Where am I?”

All four women looked at each other at once.

“We can’t tell you,” said the Blonde Girl. “This isn’t our house. We’re only staying here temporarily.”

I looked up at her and nodded understandingly. We maintained eye-contact for just a moment. I was certain I’d seen her somewhere else before.

“Who are you?” asked the little girl.

“I’m Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire.”

The pregnant girl smiled wide at me, fully revealing the scariest set of sharp, jagged teeth I’ve ever seen.

“Betsey?!” she exclaimed with a cackle. Her Southern accent was thick and heavy. “I got another personality named Betsey!”

I stared at her in horror. She cackled again.

“I’m just kidding, Sugar!” she said. “Liz is the one with the crazy split personality.”

I looked at the Blonde Girl again. Suddenly I remembered exactly where I’d seen her before.

“I’m Shirley,” said the little girl.

“Like Shirley Temple?” I asked.

“Thats right, sweetie. Just like Shirley Temple. I’ve got the curls but I don’t like to dye my hair blonde anymore. I like to keep my hair natural. You know, keep in line with The Movement.”

“Not me,” said the tall girl sassily. “I am all about the wigs, baby!”

“That’s just cause you was born a man.”

“Honey, those days are over! My name is Shantae now. I got me a different hairdo for every day of the week. Someday, I’m gonna get me a different hairdo for every day of the year. That’s my American Dream, baby!”

“And I’m Ellie Mae,” said the scary, pregnant girl. She pointed down at the pouch between her unbuttoned Daisy Dukes and shrunken crop top. “And this here is my baby, Kelsey Kaye Covington. I just love that triple-K sound, don’t you?”

Both Shirley and Shantae exchanged a sideways glance.

“So it’s a girl?” I asked curiously.

“Oh honey, I don’t know what it is! It could be a demon baby for all I know! I just know Satan’s comin’ for me! I haven’t been to church in years! The Devil always gets his due!”

I stared at her for just a moment with wide eyes before turning my attention back to Liz.

“And you’re Liz,” I said slowly.

“I’m Liz.”

We stared at each other again. Was I her alter-ego, or was she mine?

“You said you’re a writer,” said Liz. “What do you write?”

“Nothing interesting right now,” I said. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t think I could do it if I tried.”

“I’m not stupid,” said Liz defensively. “I used to read a lot of books. I know a lot more than you think. You can explain it to me. I can understand.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to imply you were stupid. I would never think that about you.”

Liz’s gaze softened.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked. “I’ll go inside and get you some water.”

“Tell Big Mama we gotss ourselves a visitor!” said Ellie Mae. “I’m gonna stay out here and talk to the writer!”

Liz disappeared inside while the other girls crowded around.

“Are you a student at the school here?” asked Shirley.

“I actually just graduated,” I said.

“Do you have a student ID?” she asked hopefully.

“Actually yes, as a matter of fact I do.”

“Can I see it?”

“Uhh… sure. I guess.”

I took out my wallet and fished out my student ID. Shirley snatched it out of my hands and looked at it longingly.

“Wow,” she said. “So this is what they look like. I’ve always wanted one of these. Someday I’ll get one. I always wanted to go to school to be a veterinarian. Nobody believes me when I say I can talk to animals, but I can. I really can. I just want to help them. I know I can do it. I know it. That’s my American Dream.”

“You can do it,” I said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

Shirley laughed at me and handed back my ID.

“Maybe in a different life,” she said ruefully. “But not this one.”

Suddenly I heard the thunderous sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind me. I turned around to see a big, bossy-looking lady glaring at me.

“Who are you?” she demanded angrily. “And what are you doing in my house?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know it was your house. I was walking home from a party and I thought I heard somebody following me, so I ran over here for safety.”

“Who are you?” Big Mama asked again.

“I’m just a writer. I wasn’t looking for any trouble, I swear.”

Big Mama looked at me suspiciously.

“You’re a writer?”

“Yes, a writer.”

“But you say you’re not looking for trouble.”

“No. I was just freaked out that someone was following me home.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “If it’s true you’re a writer, I don’t want you snooping around my house. Writers are always looking for trouble.”

“Are you saying you have something to hide from me?”

“Maybe I am. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing.”

“In that case, I’d appreciate it if you’d get up out my business right about now.” Big Mama stormed across the porch and pulled open the door. “Get out of here right now!”

“Wait,” said Liz. “You’re not just going to let her go back out there alone, are you?”

“What’s it to you?” asked Big Mama.

“She said someone was following her. That’s why she came here.”

“Why should I believe her?”

“Because it’s true! She was totally freaked out when she came in here. She was hyperventilating and collapsed on the floor and everything.”

“I was?” I asked.

“See?” said Liz. “She doesn’t even remember what happened. She’s just like me.”

Liz and I made eye-contact with each other once again.

“How far are you going?” asked Big Mama.

“I just need to get to my car,” I said. “It’s parked right across the street from Bloody Mary’s.”

“Have you been drinking tonight?”

“Not really. I only had two drinks at the bar and just smoked pot at the party.”

“Maybe that’s why you freaked out.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I doubt it. I was brought to this house for a reason.”

Big Mama gave me the once-over judgmentally, then let out a heavy sigh.

“All right,” she said. “We can walk you as far as the gas station, but you’ll have to carry on from there alone.”

The four girls jumped around excitedly.

“Oh boy!” exclaimed Ellie Mae. “I can’t wait to get out this house, ya’ll! I am going stir crazy in here!”

“Aren’t we all?” asked Liz dryly.

The six of us made our way down Main Street together in a huddle. We talked and laughed together, getting along as if nothing was out of the ordinary. When we finally reached the gas station, I was sad to see my new group of girlfriends go. As the girls gave me a group hug and said their goodbyes, Liz and I looked at each other one last time.

“Thanks again,” I said.

“Anytime.”

“I hope I see you again someday soon.”

Liz smiled at me and tossed back her blonde hair.

“Maybe you will.”

I parted ways from the prostitutes and continued on my journey alone.

STORY: A Breath of Fresh Air

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I look up from my notebook just in time to notice the little green snake slithering toward me.

“My, my, haven’t we been working hard today?”

“So it would seem. I am a professional writer, you know. I don’t have time to just sit around all day. I’m very busy and important.”

“You’ve been working all day. Why not take a break? Relax out on my patio? Have a drink?”

“You just want me to write another story about you. That’s hardly a break.”

“I disagree,” hisses the snake. “Writing about me is a far more relaxing experience than writing about a bunch of silly old prostitutes.”

“They’re not silly,” I say. “Don’t diminish them just because you disagree with what they do. You’re not so different from one yourself. And writing about you is nowhere near as relaxing as you think. It’s actually quite stressful.”

The snake looks into my eyes hypnotically.

“Write me a story, Betsey. Please?”

“Well…” I hesitate at first, but I cannot resist him for long. “All right, if you really want one, I suppose I have just the story to satiate you. It’s about a sexy snake who lures an unsuspecting writer into his nest.”

“Sounds spectacular,” says the snake, slithering off the desk. He transforms into a handsome, young Emperor with beautiful blue eyes sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“You may tell it to me now,” he says with some authority in his voice.

“Whatever you say, Your Majesty.”

I drape myself comfortably across the chair and begin to pen the tale.

$$$

One afternoon, I was seated comfortably on the bench outside of Bloody Mary’s Bar. The wi-fi in my apartment had recently gone out, so I decided to steal it from my favourite and most-frequented bar instead. I figured I’d spent enough money there over the years to justify it.

Unfortunately, right at the moment, I looked up from my phone to see the handsome, young owner heading straight for me. Just my luck. He caught me stealing his internet from him… again.

“Hey Betsey,” he said with that sneaky smile on his face. “What are you up to today?”

“Oh nothing,” I said. “Nothing at all. I definitely wasn’t sitting here stealing your internet, if that’s what you mean.”

“Why don’t you come inside?” he asked. “Take a break. Relax on the patio. Have a drink.”

I looked him up and down once before my eyes finally settled on his left ring finger. Reality hit me like a ton of bricks again.

“No thanks,” I said. “I’ve got other plans today.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, once again catching my gaze in his. I could feel his beautiful blue eyes hypnotizing me. He gave me a winning smile as he opened the door. He closed his eyes as the cool blast of A/C hit his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his mane out in the breeze. He stood there for just a moment, posing for me as if he were a model. I even noticed him lift the corner of his shirt up just a little bit.

“It sure is hot outside,” he said seductively. “You sure you don’t want to cool down with something refreshing to drink?”

I covered up my gaping mouth just in time to catch the drool.

“Uhhh…” I stumbled over myself searching for words. “Well… I guess… when you put it that way… how much could one look really hurt? I mean drink. One drink. Yeah. That’s right. I’m an alcoholic and I come here to drink.”

Andrew held the door open for me with a wide smile on his face. It wasn’t until much later that I realized I had been robbed completely blind. The worst part was, I didn’t even care. As far as I could tell, it was worth every penny.

$$$

The Emperor smiles at me and claps his hands.

“That was a good one,” he says.

“Thank you,” I reply. “I wrote it just for you.”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you.”

“But why?” he asks softly.

“Because,” I say, once again stealing a line from our mutual friend, “You’re the only person in this world that I like.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

The End

STORY: The Green Power Ranger

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Part 1 of “L.A. for A Day”

When I finally arrived in Los Angeles, I drove straight down Hollywood Boulevard and parked on a side street. I was here. I finally made it. Success was literally just around the corner.

It didn’t matter that I was broke and homeless and living out of my car. Never mind the fact that I hadn’t finished a single script and had nothing else to offer The Industry. All that mattered was that I had finally made it to Hollywood.

Unsure of my next step, I decided to take a walk. I sat down on a random bench somewhere and waited for something exciting to happen. Luckily, right at that moment, a young man suddenly approached me.

“Excuse me, Miss, do you happen to have a cigarette on you?”

I reached into my purse and took out the tobacco from my medicine bag.

“I don’t usually smoke this,” I said, “But you can roll yourself a cigarette if you want to.”

The young man looked at me strangely. “What do you use it for if you don’t smoke it?”

“It’s a spiritual thing.”

“Oh…” He looked down at the ground. “Well, I don’t want to take it from you if it’s a spiritual thing.”

“It’s okay. Something tells me this is a spiritual thing.”

“In that case…”

He took the tobacco from me and sat down next to me.

“So what’s your name?” I asked.

“Von Deezy.”

I did a double take.

“Von Deezy?” I exclaimed. “Your name is Von Deezy?!”

“That’s right. Von Deezy Brown.”

“Wow!”

Von Deezy pursued his lips and raised an eyebrow.

“You got a problem with that?”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “I’m just not sure I can come up with a better name than that.”

“You can’t,” Von Deezy said. “So don’t even try. Go ahead. Make me famous. This is Hollywood, after all. You never know when you could be discovered.”

I smiled at him.

“What about you? What’s your name?”

“Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yes indeedy. What about you?”

“I’m a stand-up comedian,” Von Deezy said with a completely straight face.

“Really?”

“That’s right,” he said. “But only sometimes. Most of the time, I’m the Green Power Ranger.”

“What?”

“I’m the Green Power Ranger. Haven’t you ever seen Power Rangers?”

“Of course I’ve seen Power Rangers. I just don’t quite understand how you can be the Green Power Ranger.”

“Not a lot of people do.”

Von Deezy unzipped his backpack and pulled out his costume to show me.

“I work for this guy,” he said. “There’s a whole bunch of us. He pays us to dress up like famous characters and walk up and down the Boulevard taking pictures with tourists.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s a good gig. I get to keep all my tips and everything. I make, like, $800 a day just walking up and down the street.”

“Just by taking pictures with tourists?”

“Yeah. They love it. They pay a lot of money to come to Hollywood and take a picture with their favourite character. It’s a keepsake that lasts a lifetime.”

I smiled wide at him.

“So how did you get this job?”

“Since I was a kid, I’ve always loved Power Rangers. Every day I’d come home from school and watch Power Rangers on TV. I wished more than anything I could be a Power Ranger. I always wanted to be the Green Ranger. He was my favourite. I knew that was who I wanted to be when I grew up.

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t grow up in the best neighborhood. I got involved in a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I ended up broke, homeless, and addicted to drugs. I just had no direction in life, you know? All I knew was that I wanted to be the Green Power Ranger. Everyone just laughed at me and told me to get a job. I tried, you know, but I could just never hold it down.

“I was sleeping on the street when he found me. He took me in, cleaned me up, and asked me what I wanted to be. I told him I wanted to be the Green Power Ranger. As it turns out, he runs the company I work for now. He said they’d just lost their Green Power Ranger and we’re looking for a brand new one.

“I’ll never forget the day he gave me this suit. Don’t tell anyone this, but I actually cried the first time I put it on and looked in the mirror. My dream finally came true! Now I’m out there on the Boulevard, protecting the streets on Hollywood and making little kids’ dreams come true. You should see the way they look when they meet their hero!”

I stared at Von Deezy in a stunned silence.

“That’s what I love about this country, man. No matter who you are or where you come from, you can be whatever you want to be. You know? Like, I was just some punk kid from Crenshaw. I never thought I could actually be the Green Power Ranger. But look at me now. I grew up and I made it, man. I fucking made it. I really owe it to him, man. I owe him everything. He made my dream come true.”

“Who is it?”

“Ohhh, I can’t tell you that,” Von Deezy said gravely. “He’s too well-known. All I can say is that I’m not the first person he’s helped, and I won’t be the last.”

“That’s beautiful,” I said.

“That’s the American Dream.”

We sat together in silence for just a minute before Von Deezy hit me with his best pick-up line.

“You know,” he said smoothly. “We’re still looking for a Pink Power Ranger. I know the guy who can get you the job… If you want it.”

I smiled at him.

“Thanks,” I said sweetly, “But I’m not sure it’s the right job for me.”

Von Deezy nodded slowly and looked me over.

“I understand,” he said. “Not everyone can be a Power Ranger. It’s a pretty big responsibility. It’s the kind of thing you really have to take seriously. Now that I look at you, I can see you’re not right for the job.”

“Don’t worry, Von Deezy. I’m sure she’s out there somewhere. You’ll catch her on the Boulevard someday.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I will too.”

To be continued…

SCRIPT: The Island of Lost Guys

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On today’s episode of Island Hunters…

BETSEY: Hi! My name is Betsey! I’m a Writer Extraordinaire from Washington D.C. I’m looking to purchase an island in Belize where all of my Lost Guys can live.

REAL ESTATE AGENT: What are you looking for in an Island Paradise?

BETSEY: When I think of the Island of Lost Guys, I think of space. Lots of space. I want them to be comfortable, you know? I see a nice big beach house with a pool and a dock for a boat. I definitely want trees so they can hang up their hammocks, and a huge dining room/chef’s kitchen so they have somewhere to eat. I won’t be cooking for them, of course. I plan to hire somebody for that.

As far as bedrooms goes, they’re boys so they can bunk up if necessary. I’m thinking maybe 10 bedrooms, 15 at the most. As many bathrooms as possible, because they are men, and men are just… disgusting. I fully plan on providing 24-hour on-site staff to clean up after them. I really want to make them to feel at home.

Budget wise, I’m looking to spend about $13 million. I know it’s Belize and the exchange rate is cheaper, so I’m willing to take on a fixer-upper. I have a feeling it’s going to take some time to get all of them together anyway.

REAL ESTATE AGENT: Well, that’s all very reasonable. After some searching, I’ve found the perfect Island Paradise for you! It has everything you’re looking for, and it’s only $1 million. It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but it’s got everything you need. Doesn’t it feel good to take advantage of third world tax havens?

BETSEY: It sure does! I love Capitalism! Now let’s update this mansion! I’ll paint it some bright colors, get some nice furniture, hang up some hammocks, install a home theatre with surround sound and all the latest video game systems. Servants to cater to their every whim, a chef to cook them whatever they want, a maid to clean up after their mess. Whatever these guys want! Their wish is my command!

REAL ESTATE AGENT: Say, just what are you planning to do with your Island Paradise anyway?

BETSEY: Now that I have this Island Paradise, I’m going to invite all of my ex-boyfriends, muses, and former love interests to stay here. There’s only one catch… none of them have any idea they’re secretly being filmed for America’s Next Great Reality TV Show™. Let’s tune in and see what happens next…

The opening credits roll. A private jet lands on a remote island somewhere off the coast of Belize. Off step a bunch of wildly different but equally attractive men. Area Codes by Ludacris plays in the background.

THE LOST GUYS, in order of appearance:

  • THE GENERAL, a sexy former Jedi Knight, played by Ewan McGregor
  • THE PERSIAN, a greasy used car salesman
  • HENRY WILLIAMS, a handsome young French teacher
  • MERRICK, a seductive, gothic vampire
  • BEAR, Merrick’s First Best Friend
  • RYAN, Merrick’s Second Best Friend
  • TEA, an alcoholic
  • DOUBLE D, a drug addict
  • TOM, an actor specializing in villainous roles
  • THE FRENCHMAN, a suave rando picked up on the streets of Paris
  • THE PRINCE, a scoundrel and a cad
  • DUKE, Tom’s cranky older brother
  • LEO, a washed-up, old actor
  • ANDREW, the sexy Owner of Bloody Mary’s Bar

THE LOST GUYS arrive on the Island and get settled into their rooms. They break into the open bar by the pool and begin their ceremonial rituals of fraternal bonding.

After a round of Halo gets a little too heated, THE PERSIAN gets voted off the Island. After an intense, rum-fueled argument escalates into a fight in the backyard, THE PRINCE gets escorted off the Island by the police. TEA and DOUBLE D choose to leave in order to make better lifestyle choices. BEAR and RYAN follow MERRICK around everywhere he goes. THE FRENCHMAN and HENRY WILLIAMS were just here on vacation. DUKE is only here for the food. LEO couldn’t make it due to scheduling conflicts.

That leaves THE GENERAL, MERRICK, TOM, and ANDREW. They all get along harmoniously, until the subject of BETSEY comes up. That’s when the real contest begins.

TOM: I’m her favourite! She loved me so much, she was stalking me!

MERRICK: Oh, please. She was “stalking” all of us. That doesn’t count. It’s part of her job.

ANDREW: I think we can all agree that I’m her favourite. Just look at the way she writes about me. It’s so obvious she wants me the most out of anybody.

MERRICK: Woah there, pretty boy. You’re not her favourite. I’m her favourite.

ANDREW: Yeah? You think so? She comes into my bar almost every single day.

MERRICK: Just because she likes your bar doesn’t mean she likes you.

ANDREW: You think just because you sparkle in the sun you’re some kind of hot shit?

MERRICK: I am hot shit. You wouldn’t even believe how much money I make.

ANDREW: You wouldn’t even believe how much money I make.

MERRICK: You think you’re a big deal just because you own some bar in Small Town, South Dakota? Who are you, anyway?

ANDREW: I’m a bigger fucking deal than you are. I own my own business, mother fucker. I oversee a historic property. Meanwhile, you’re up to some kind of shady shit doing military contract work. Your job only exists because my hard-earned tax dollars are paying for it.

MERRICK: Sounds like the joke’s on you, asshole.

ANDREW: Yeah? You wanna dance, douchebag? I can take on some East Coast pussy like you.

MERRICK: You think so, Pretty Boy? One punch in the face and you’re straight outta the game!

ANDREW: Not if I rip your dick off first! What have you got left after that? Your charming personality?

MERRICK and ANDREW get into the Classic Alpha Male Struggle for Dominance.

Meanwhile, BETSEY and 20 of her closest friends are watching the scene unfold from her home theatre on the island next door.

BETSEY: This was the best investment I’ve ever made. Worth every penny. 10/10, would buy again.

ALL 20 OF BETSEY’S CLOSEST FRIENDS: Agreed.

Cut back to MERRICK and ANDREW fighting.

MERRICK: You don’t even know her that well! You’re too busy talking to everyone else in the room!

ANDREW: I know her plenty well! You wouldn’t even believe how drunk I’ve seen her get before! That’s when her real personality comes out!

MERRICK: That may be, but you don’t know her the way I know her. I’m The Best She’s Ever Had. I got two words for you, bro: Vampire Sex. You don’t even know what that means.

ANDREW: I don’t want to know what that means. I’m sure I can show her plenty of things she’s never seen before. She doesn’t even know anything about South Dakota. I could show that bitch The World.

MERRICK: Sounds like a whole lot of Talk and not a whole lot of Action. Pretty typical for a Politician if you ask me. You don’t even know what you’re missing, bro.

ANDREW: Just looks like I’m missing a bunch of Crazy.

MERRICK: You don’t even know. She is tame around you. All she does when she’s around you is sit down, shut up, and write in her fucking notebook. I’ve never seen her act like that around a man before. You should’ve seen what she did to me. She lay waste to the small town in Maryland where I’m from. She dated both of my best friends. And on top of it all, she was the best sex I’ve ever had. That bitch is fucking crazy, but if I could fuck her again, I totally would. She’s just that good.

ANDREW: [raises one eyebrow with intrigue] Really?

MERRICK: Really.

TOM: Hey now, don’t talk about her that way.

EVERYONE: Shut the fuck up, Tom!

MERRICK: Don’t even get me started on you, Farm Boy. I could kill you after what you did to her. You’re lucky she asked me to spare your life, or you wouldn’t even be standing here right now. You’re not even worth my time. At least Pretty Boy here would put up a decent fight.

ANDREW: I’ll show you what a real man looks like, you little vampire bitch.

BETSEY: Okay, everybody, that’s enough fighting over me for now. My ego has been stroked enough. It’s time for everyone to cast their vote for the winner of Last Muse Standing.

Everyone casts their vote. The results are placed into an envelope and delivered to BETSEY. She flies to the island next door and makes a spectacular entrance in a stunning evening gown. MERRICK and ANDREW look at her with sparkling eyes. Both are equally confident they are going to win.

BETSEY: Gentlemen, thank you for coming to my island. This has truly been one of the most entertaining stories I’ve ever dared to write. I want to thank both of you for continuing to inspire me every day. Merrick, thanks for the hot sex! Andrew, thanks for letting me back into your bar. But there can only be one.

The tribal drum music grows louder and more intense. MERRICK and ANDREW look at each other tensely. BETSEY enjoys watching them fight over her a little too much. Finally, after a painfully long commercial break from our corporate sponsors, the suspense is over.

BETSEY: And the winner of Last Muse Standing is… THE GENERAL!

ANDREW and MERRICK are equally shocked. THE GENERAL smirks and struts to the front in black leather pants. BETSEY fawns over him for awhile before presenting him with a pair of golden panties.

BETSEY: Congratulations, sir. You really are my ultimate inspiration.

MERRICK: I don’t understand! Why the hell did this guy win? He’s not even real!

THE GENERAL: Fool! She’s been writing my screenplay since she was 13 years old. She’s gone through at least 20 drafts. It’s only now just getting good. You think she’s not using every minute of her limited spare time to plot ways to use her family Hollywood connection to J.J. Abrams? She’s writing it for Ewan McGregor. There’s no way he’s gonna say no.

ANDREW: Now that’s Crazy.

THE GENERAL: We’ll see who’s got the last laugh, Pretty Boy.

THE GENERAL takes BETSEY by the arm and leads her back to the helicopter. They take off and fly away into the sunset, together at last.

The End.

SCRIPT: Shake Ya Tailfeather

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Based on the opening scene from the music video for “Shake Ya Tailfeather” by Nelly, Diddy, and Murphy Lee.

MONTAGE of exciting scenes of everyday life in Small Town, South Dakota: college students heading to class, people walking up and down Main Street, everyone having lunch at The Cafe, a Vermcat lurking behind a dumpster.

BETSEY is sitting at BLOODY MARY’S BAR with her two best friends, ANNIE and KATE. ANDREW is the bartender on duty.

ANDREW: Hi there, ladies. Can I get you something to drink?

ANNIE: I’ll have a Bud Light with olives and tomato juice, please.
ANDREW: And you are?

ANNIE: I’m Annie. I’m from South Dakota. We met during college.

ANDREW: And you?

KATE: I’m Kate. We met in high school. I’d like a glass of white wine.

ANDREW: And your usual, Betsey?

BETSEY: Si, muchas gracias.

KATE: I didn’t know you spoke Spanish, Betsey.

BETSEY: I speak many languages, Playgirl. Ha ha ha! It’d surprise you.

The three ladies sit together talking, laughing, and drinking at the bar. They watch all the men walk by, checking each one out carefully as they go.

BETSEY: Now, I like the type of young man that has a real pretty face. Kinda like… that right there.

A handsome suit walks by and winks at BETSEY.

BETSEY: Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

KATE: See, me, myself, I like legs… arms, glutes, abs. You know, chocolate-covered. Kinda like that right there.

A butter-faced beefcake walks by and winks at KATE.

KATE: Crazy!

BETSEY: Annie, what kinda guy do you like?

ANNIE: I like… [She holds her hands up a foot apart]

A sexy black guy walks by and winks at ANNIE.

ANNIE: DAAAAAAMN! [She gets up and chases after him]

“Shake Ya Tailfeather” comes on the radio and everyone starts dancing.

The End!