Totally Radical Sportz!

Totally Tubular – Chapter 2

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 06/18/2013

Potato Farm

A British syndicate wants to put an oil pipeline through Lenny Johnston’s Idaho family potato farm. An Irishman may be his only hope…

Chapter 2 – Misery

(Lenny Johnston awakes and looks out over his barren potato fields. He rubs his eyes and squints through the morning fog at a small group busily digging away in the center of the main field…)

Lenny:  (eyes narrow)  The Royal Petrol Consortium.

(Lenny rushes outside in his boxers and a white t and angrily grabs one of the diggers’ shovels…)

Lenny:  I thought I told you damn English this land isn’t for sale!

(The person in charge turns and Lenny is taken aback by a stunning smiling freckled brunette…)

Margie:  Aren’t you a little under-dressed for a potato farmer?

Lenny:  (frowns)  I, uh…you’re not British.

Margie:  (holds out hand)  I’m Professor Margaret Cage, paleontologist for the University of Northern Idaho. You can call me Margie. Your lawyer invited my students and I here to dig for more mammoth bones like the one he discovered last week.

Lenny:  My lawyer? Oh, you mean Mac. He’s not really my–

(Mr. MacAnnannie bursts out of one of the nearby tents and wraps an arm around Lenny’s shoulder…)

Mac:  Ah, Lenny! I see you’ve met the lovely Prof. Cage. We’ll let your kids get back to work, Professor. I have to have a word with my client.

(Mac leads a confused Lenny away from the dig site and Margie stares after them smiling…)

Lenny:  Mac, what are these people doing on my land?

Mac:  Listen, you don’t want the English to build an oil pipeline through your farm, right? I invited the good professor to give her small class of graduate students an advanced course in paleontology. Should take them three to four weeks to find out there aren’t really any old elephant bones in the ground. By then you should be able to scare up enough money to drive out the English and keep your farm.

Lenny:   But how am I supposed to grow potatoes if they’re digging up all my fields?

Mac:  Well, you can just grow around them. It’s not exactly like this place was bursting with spuds to begin with.

Lenny:  How did you even convince Prof. Cage to dig here? That “mammoth bone” you “discovered” was just a pitching wedge wrapped in papier-mâché.

(Mac turns back to Prof. Cage…)

Mac:  You know, it’s a shame we lost the original find to those damn vandals.

Margie:  Yes well, dinosaur bones can fetch quite a profit on the black market. We’ll be extra vigilant from here on out.

(Mac spins to Lenny with a grin…)

Mac:  Let’s grab breakfast while the children dig.

(Lenny follows Mac to the truck and sighs…)

~~~

(At Bella’s Diner on Main Street in Spudsville, Mac and Lenny are tucked into a booth. Mac stares dreamily at a young blonde girl taking orders behind the counter…)

Lenny:  Wish you’d reminded me to put on pants.

Mac:  Those flannel boxers are quite becoming.

Lenny:  Who are you staring at?

Mac:  The girl I’m going to marry. Liz.

(Lenny glances behind the counter, eyes widen…)

Lenny:  Mac, that’s Elizabeth Granger; Bob Granger’s kid. The Granger Feed Company? She’s like seventeen!

Mac:  Sixteen, actually. But to be fair, I did — like you — think she was seventeen.

Lenny:  That’s still illegal.

Mac:  Your nation is so curious.

Lenny:  Bob Granger is the biggest guy in Spudsville. If he catches you checking out his underage daughter, he’d kill you.

Mac:  Technically, he already has caught me.

Lenny:  What.

Mac:  We sort of…already consummated our future vows. Kinda facing charges. Sorta maybe partly the reason I can’t return to Ireland.

Lenny:  (shouting way too loud for a family diner)  You’re a pedophile??!

(Elizabeth Granger is standing at their booth and Lenny jumps when he turns…)

Lenny:  Hello, Elizabeth.

Liz:  Hello, Lenny.

Mac:  (cheesily grinning)  Hello, Liz.

Liz:  Mac, what are you doing here? If my father catches you, he’ll kill you.

Lenny:  See?

Mac:  I came, Liz, because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m in misery without you. I want you to be my wife.

(Liz blushes and smiles down at her order pad…)

Liz:  Mac, are you nuts?

Mac:  I am, Liz. Nuts about you.

(Liz ponders for a moment…)

Liz:  Meet me at the town water silo at midnight.

Mac:  (clasps Liz’s hand and kisses it)  With bells on, my dear.

Liz:  Okay, now what can I get you bo–Lenny, are you in your underwear?

Lenny:  (grumpily)  It’s been a rough morning.

~~~

(That evening, Lenny and Mac are sitting in Lenny’s pickup, Mac excitedly thumping on the dashboard…)

Mac:  I can’t believe I’m really going to do this. I’m going to ask this girl to marry me!

Lenny:  Didn’t you already, though?

Mac:  Imagine me, Mac MacAnnannie, married. Boy, if my pop could see me now.

Lenny:  Wait, your first name’s Mac? I thought the Mac came from your last name.

Mac:  You really should try this married thing out, Leonard. It’s lovely.

Lenny:  You’re not even married yet. And we seem to keep glossing over the fact that this girl’s sixteen.

Mac:  What about the professor; Margie. She seems pretty.

Lenny:  Well, I dunno. You think she would date a potato farmer?

Mac:  Of course! She’s already seen you in your underwear. Ooh, we could double date!

Lenny:  You’re not just doing this for a green card, are you?

Mac:  Here she is!

(A pickup pulls up alongside the silo and Mac hops out of Lenny’s truck, racing toward it…)

Lenny:  (shakes his head)  That silly lovesick idiot.

(The truck headlights outline Mac as he stops in front of the truck. Lenny frowns and squints through his windshield as a large shadow of a man comes out from behind the lights and begins pummeling Mac into the ground…)

Lenny:  Oh shit, Bob Granger!

(Lenny puts his truck in gear and guns it toward the silo. By the time he pulls up next to Mac’s crumpled frame, Mr. Granger’s truck is kicking up dust in the opposite direction. Lenny hops out and kneels down next to the bloodied battered Mac MacAnnannie…)

Lenny:  Mac, are you alright?

Mac:  The marriage is off. Love is dead.

Lenny:   Well, at least you’ve got your health–uh, hat.  (pats Lenny’s head)  At least you’ve got your hat.

Mac:  (spits out a tooth)  I’m not wearing a hat.

Lenny:  Yeah, I got nothing.

~~~

Send complaints to ethanrbooker@gmail.com

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