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Subconsciously – Chapter 5

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 06/02/2014

Subconsciously

American Lee Cohn lies her way through England in order to acquire a football team endorsement for e-Pocalypse energy supplement e-cigarettes.

Chapter 5 – Judy

(Nellie Turano and Mexican drug lord and e-Pocalypse e-cigarette energy supplement financier Mr. “Nacho” Notchizedes’ henchman Marco Taveras are standing stranded on a small snowy airfield in rural Nebraska…)

PILOT:  We can have the engine fixed by tomorrow, but we’ll have to stay here for the night.

NELLIE:  In Bumfuck, Nebraska?

MARCO:  (frowning)  Map says Langville.


(Meanwhile in Bumfordshire, England, Lee Cohn is meeting with the president of Bumfordshire F.C., a ninety-year-old white-hair named Judy Wellesley…)

JUDY:  I could have been a Dame, you know.

LEE:  Yes, you’re one helluva dame, Miss Wellesley. Now about that sponsorship deal we discussed?

JUDY:  Dame Judy Wellesley. How noble that would have sounded. If it weren’t for that bastard the Earl of Halfordshire–

LEE:  Miss Wellesley, the football club? The e-cigarette sponsorship?

JUDY:  Oh, I’m not really a hands-on club president. I let Coach Martin and the boys do most of the heavy lifting. I am getting on in years, you know.

LEE:  Yes, but unfortunately you’re still the one signing the checks. Otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you during your tea.

JUDY:  I was quite the young whippersnapper in my early years. I inherited the club from my late father fresh out of university. I had the boys poised for a run at the cup that first year. We were the talk of the town. But then the war happened..

LEE:  Yes, Vietnam. Very sad. So if you could just sign here.

JUDY:  You know, maybe I should get back on that field. Perform some transactions and give our boys one more shot at victory.

LEE:  (slumps shoulders, hangs head)  Oh Miss Wellesley, you are exhausting.


(In a motel room in Langville, Nebraska…)

NELLIE:  Can’t believe there was only one room available. Who the hell vacations in Nebraska.

MARCO:  (browsing a brochure in the other bed)  They have a yarn museum.

NELLIE:  Where’s the pilot going to sleep?

MARCO:  He sleeps on the plane.

NELLIE:  Just you and me then, huh Marco.

MARCO:  Yes, miss.

NELLIE:  So when did you start…henching for Nacho. Is henching the right word?

MARCO:  Mr. Notchizedes is my uncle’s brother.

NELLIE:  You mean your father?

MARCO:  I have no father.

NELLIE:  So he’s your uncle.

MARCO:  No, he’s the brother of my uncle.

NELLIE:  Well Marco, the brother of your uncle is also your uncle. Or your father.

MARCO:  No father. Uncle’s brother.

NELLIE:  So he’s your uncle. You can have more than one uncle, you know.

MARCO:  He is the brother of my uncle.

NELLIE:  (sits up in bed)  Marco, you have an uncle. Correct?

MARCO:  Si.

NELLIE:  And Nacho is your uncle’s brother. Correct?

MARCO:  Si. Hermano.

NELLIE:  Then that makes Nacho also your uncle. That’s how uncles work.

MARCO:  My uncle is unemployed.

NELLIE:  (flops back down into bed)  Oh Marco, you are exhausting.


(The next morning in Bumfordshire, Lee is back at the patchy brown soccer field struggling to hang up an e-Pocalypse banner on the lone bleacher, while the soccer team practices clumsily, resulting in a variety of nutshots. Lee is startled by a booming voice behind her and the banner flutters to the ground…)

JUDY:  Miss Cohn, you have inspired me!

LEE:  Miss Wellesley, I didn’t think you attended practices.

JUDY:  Well, I do now. I’ve decided to take a more hands-on approach.

LEE:  Well, that’s…lovely.

BREAD:  Oy, mum!

(A doughy bald man saunters toward the ladies and Lee recognizes him as the same grinning idiot who stole her e-cigarette design and her Manchester City F.C. sponsorship deal…)

JUDY:  Oh Lee, I’d like you to meet my oldest son, Bread. Bread, this is Lee Cohn. From America.

BREAD:  (sneering)  We’ve met. Hello, luv. Landed the big Bumfordshire sponsorship deal, have ya.

LEE:  (eyes narrow)  Hello…Bread.


Send all hate mail to ethanrbooker@gmail.com

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