Totally Radical Sportz!

Totally Tubular – Chapter 3

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 06/24/2013

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 3 – Garden Of Bones

(Cecilia Livingstone, head of the US branch of the Royal Petrol Consortium, is meeting with Spudsville, ID Mayor Clarence Metacomb in his office…)

Livingstone:  If you want the Consortium’s oil pipeline to go through your town, then I’m going to need Mr. Johnston’s land, by hook or by crook.

Mayor:  (snorts rail of ketamine)  Hard to do anything when his Irish prick lawyer’s got those college kids diggin’ for dinosaur bones on his potato farm. That makes his land federally-protected. Nothin’ you can do about that.

Livingstone:  Perhaps if he were persuaded to leave or face grave danger, he’d be more inclined to forget about dinosaur bones and sell?

Mayor:  (slowly smiles and nods)  I might know some guys who can help.

Livingstone:  I’m glad to see we’re finally on the same page, Mayor.

Mayor:  (points at another rail of ketamine)  You want a bump of this or what?

Livingstone:  No, thank you.


(Leonard Johnston is kneeling over a large hole next to University of Northern Idaho paleontology Professor Margaret Cage, as her students tirelessly work below…)

Lenny:  So you really think you can find mammoth bones on my land, Margie?

Margie:  Yes, Leonard. The northwest United States were a hotbed for mega-zoological activity in the time of the wooly mammoths. I’m almost positive we can find more bones like the one your lawyer found, before it was unfortunately stolen.

(Lenny glances at the bandaged Mac MacAnnannie wandering around the field, high on Vicodin after a severe beating from the father of his underage — possible — fiancee…)

Lenny:  Yes. Unfortunate.

Margie:  Who do you think could have stolen the bones anyway?

Lenny:  I dunno. Probably the guys in the Nazi militia compound north of here.

Margie:  Nazis? Goodness.

Lenny:  Oh, they’re not so bad. Keep to themselves mostly. One of the skinheads comes over and buys potatoes. They’re always good for a bushel or two. ‘Course, I haven’t been able to grow any this year…

Margie:  Well I’m sure we’re not helping with all these holes we’ve been digging.

Lenny:  No, it’s…nice. To have somebody to talk to.

(Lenny and Margie share a quiet awkward silence until Mac stumbles over…)

Mac:  Lenny, I can hear the potato babies talking to me from under the dirt. They want to come out, but they’re scared. Let me have another pill.

Lenny:  No, you had enough for one day. Go lie down and rest.

Mac:  Oh, you’re no fun!  (stomps off in a huff)


(Mayor Metacomb is waved through a heavily-guarded outer gate of the Pure Freedom Army compound. He parks his Jeep outside the main building and is led inside to the office of Pure Freedom Army’s leader, General Adolph Schiezer…)

General:  Mr. Mayor, what can we do for you today?

Mayor:  (nervously fidgeting with tie)  Thank you for meeting with me, General. I was wondering if you were familiar with your neighbor, Leonard Johnston?

General:  Oh yeah, ‘Lil Lenny Johnston. Why do you ask?

Mayor:  Well you see, I’ve got some friends who are trying to buy his land, but he’s just being a real bugaboo about it. I was just wondering if you and your boys could maybe put a scare in him, convince him it’d be safer to just take the money and leave town.

General:  (shakes his head)  No, sirree. The Johnston farm is where we get all our potatoes. He’s good people. It’s good to have solid farm folk near your compound. They’ll give ya a holler if the CIA ever zeroes in and surrounds you. That’s just militia 101, right there.

Mayor:  Huh. No way I can talk you into it?

General:  No sir, Mr. Mayor.

Mayor:  (mutters)  Guess I’m gonna have to take matters into my own hands.

General:  Now look, are you gonna buy some crack or what?

Mayor:  (sighs)  Yes.


(That evening, a cracked-out Mayor Metacomb is kicking over University of Northern Idaho students’ tents in Lenny’s potato fields and rattling a chain over his head, hollering…)

Mayor:  Ooooh, I’m a ghost. This potato farm is haunted and everyone should leave!

(Margie comes out of her tent, wrapping a blanket around herself. Mac piles out of another tent with a young college coed in tow and Lenny walks out of his farmhouse in his boxers again…)

Lenny:  (squinting)  Clarence, is that you?

Mayor:  Noooo. I’m a ghoooooost.

Mac:  (in a wife-beater and ladies yoga pants)  Careful, everyone! Back!

Lenny:  Mr. Mayor, you need to go home.

(Mayor Metacomb drops to his knees, clutching Lenny’s boxers…)

Mayor:  Lenny, you’ve gotta take the Consortium’s offer. If you don’t, they’re gonna go to some other town and make them all millionaires!

Lenny:  I’m not selling this farm, Clarence.

Mayor:  I’ll suck your dick.

Mac:  Man, that is one horny ghost.

Lenny:  Go home, Mayor. My lawyer and I will deal with the British in the morning.

(Mac glances down at his lady yoga pants and at the young college student clutching his side…)

Mac:  Can we make it early afternoon, mate?


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