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Dust Bowl – Chapter 13

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 04/14/2014

dustbowl

The great Dust Bowl of the 1930′s strikes and Oklahoman Woody Loggins and his Mexican friend Pepe pack up shop and head West.

Chapter 13 – Dust Bowl Blues

(Woody Loggins enters the empty visitor’s room at Los Angeles County Federal Penitentiary to find President Herbert Hoover’s chief of staff Reginald Thorngood seated, waiting for him…)

Thorngood:  Mr. Loggins. Have a seat.

Woody:  (frowns)  Hey, you’re that guy I assaulted and got thrown into the loony bin over.

Thorngood:  No hard feelings.

Woody:  I forgive you.

Thorngood:  What. (shakes head) Mr. Loggins, I’m here today to get you out of prison.

Woody:  We blowin’ this popsicle stand?

Thorngood:  As you may have heard, President Hoover’s opponent Gov. Roosevelt has accused our nation’s leader of injecting him with the polio he now suffers from. Obviously this is a blatant lie, but the media is easily swayed. In order to…neutralize the threat posed by Roosevelt’s lies I would like you to write a statement saying Gov. Roosevelt hired you to assassinate the President, thereby putting both opponents on an even field.

Woody:  Yeah, sure great. I’m in.

Thorngood:  Now I’m willi–oh. I, uh, didn’t expect it to be that simple.

Woody:  On one condition.

Thorngood:  Name it.

Woody:  Kill me.


“Psst. Pssst!”

(Pepe Gomez is working his manual labor job in an East LA oil field when he spots a hand beckoning him toward a whispering bush. He approaches, gets pulled in and is face-to-face with his formerly imprisoned best friend…)

Pepe:  Mr. Woody, you escape!

Woody:  Even better, Pepe old chum.

(Woody holds up a special edition paper with the headline “Would-Be Presidential Assassin an FDR Hired Gun; Campaign in Peril”…)

Pepe:  You a hired gun, Mr. Woody? Is pay good?

Woody:  Nah, that’s all made-up. It’s politics. Whatever, nobody cares. The important thing is that the article goes on to say that I died in a prison riot.

Pepe:  Oh, I am sorry.

Woody:  No, I’m not actually dead. I’m standing right in front of you, man.

Pepe:  You could be a ghost.

Woody:  Well, I’m not a ghost. Now let’s get Wen-Wen and go to Mexico and live the rest of our lives in a tropical paradise.

Pepe:  Ms. Wen-Wen is coming?

Woody:  She’s my girlfriend, man.

(Pepe and Woody leave the oil field…)

Pepe:  You sure you’re not a ghost, Mr. Woody.

Woody:  If I was a ghost I’d be floatin’ around watching girls change, not haunting your ass.


“Psst. Pssst!”

(Wen-Wen Chen is working in her parents’ Chinatown flower shop when she spots a hand beckoning her toward a large whispering fern bush in the corner of the store. She’s pulled in and is face-to-face with her formerly imprisoned, now “dead” boyfriend and his best friend…)

Wen-Wen:  (shrieks)  Ahhh, a ghost!

Woody:  No, I’m not–why does everyone believe in ghosts?

Wen-Wen:  The paper say you die in prison. Father say you assassin, bad man. He never liked you, W0od-dee.

Woody:  Well I didn’t much care for him either, to be quite honest. Look, I faked my death so Pepe and I can start a new life in Mexico. I want you to come with us.

Wen-Wen:  I can’t go to Mexico with you, Wood-dee. I already have life here in America.

Woody:  But I thought you loved me, baby.

Wen-Wen:  I thought it was more casual thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I am very busy. Ms. Nightengale has ordered a floral wreath for your funeral. Be gone, ghost.

(Wen-Wen exits the fern bush and Woody’s shoulders slump…)

Woody:  I’m not a…ghost.

Pepe:  Sorry you were dumped, Mr. Woody. But we should leave for Mexico before anyone else we know spots you.

Woody:  Not so fast, ‘ol Pepe ‘ol boy. We can leave tomorrow.

Pepe:  Why, Mr. Woody.

Woody:  (grins)  How many chances does one get to witness their own funeral?


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