Invasion of the Pony Tails Strippers
By BruceK & Teri Cross Chetwood
Part One: The Bar At the End of the End of the Series
By Teri Cross Chetwood
Author's Note (Well, one of the author's note): This script is a collaboration between myself and the very funny BruceK. It's a sequal (of sorts) to BruceK and Zin Dar's very funny “Sign And Road” series (first part here: http://www.booksie.com/humor/script/brucek/a-curve-in-the-road-ahead), and the postings will be similar. I'll post a page, then BruceK will post a page.
SCENE: Bruce's bar right after BruceK's “The End At The End Of The Road”
Six women walk into the bar. (If that doesn't sound like the start of a dirty joke, I don't know what does!) They're dusty and dirty from the road and dressed like a bunch of dusty, dirty strippers, which is exactly what they are: Gretchen, Shadowcat, Bianca, Li'l Bit, Freaky Frieda, and Alice.
GRETCHEN: CCR. Cooool!
SHADOWCAT: Still don' make up fo' drivin us off th' road.
LI'L BIT: Don't look at me! This is all Frieda's fault.
FRIEDA: Me? How is that my fault?
LI'L BIT: You were driving, dumbass. Remember? Didn't you see the fucking sign?
ALICE: Wasn't her fault, guys. The arrow on the sign changed directions.
SHADOWCAT: That th' stupidest thing you done evah say, Alice, an' that's sayin' a lot.
GRETCHEN: Calm down, ladies. We still have 500 miles to go and we're not going to have enough gas money if you all end up in the county lockup again for fighting. I had a hell of a time getting you all out of that jail in Arizona.
FRIEDA: Yeah, you screwed up the grill on my car trying to yank the jail bars, Gretch. Thanks a lot.
GRETCHEN: Talk to my lawyer, baby.
BIANCA: Whose idea was it to go to that stripper's convention, anyway? It was full of wankers. I've had more fun watching PBS fund-drives, and those things are dreadful.
SHADOWCAT: Then why you watch 'em, stupid?
BIANCA: It's the only place I can see British telly. It reminds me of home. You Yanks don't deserve “Are You Being Served?”.
SHADOWCAT: Oh, Lord! Bianca gotta get all limey on us!
GRETCHEN: Chill out, guys. Drinks are on me.
FRIEDA: Now you're talking!
*They all walk to the bar*
ALICE: Hey, Bruce! Lookin' good, baby. Love the CCR.
BRUCEK: Hi, Alice.
FRIEDA: We're in the middle of nowhere. How do you know this guy, Alice?
ALICE: He's one of the voices in my head. He tells me how to mix the drinks at Pony Tails.
LI'L BIT: I don't wanna know.
GRETCHEN: That's REO Speedwagon, girl. Stick to Creedence.
LI'L BIT: Bad Moon Rising?
BRUCEK: We don't play that one here. Makes the werewolves rowdy.
SHADOWCAT: Congratulations, Alice. Yo' done foun' someone as weird as you. Bruce, if you one a' the voices in Alice's head, are you the one that always has her watchin' infomercials?
BRUCEK: Just because I own part interest in Ronco...
SHADOWCAT: If you are, we gotta talk 'bout that CD I done ordered: Elvis Sings Lady Gaga.
BRUCEK: Please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery.
SHADOWCAT: Four ta six weeks?? It done been 6 months!
BRUCEK: Do you know how hard it is to get Elvis to sing anything these days? His career's dead, and so is he.
SHADOWCAT: Yo' ain't got any problems gettin' CCR to sing.
BRUCEK: (changing the subject): So, Alice, How've you been?
ALICE: Just fine. Bruce and I go way back, guys. Remember that flight to Buenos Aries, Bruce?
ALICE: Me either.
*Alice and Bruce both laugh like it's the funniest joke ever.*
SHADOWCAT: Bruce, gimme a beer. I see a smiling cat over there. Imma talk to him.
GRETCHEN: Why do I see a bunch of Star Wars characters in the corner, having sex?
BRUCEK: Shit! They're back again.
*BruceK grabs a baseball bat from underneath the bar and walks menacingly toward the strange, naked space creatures*
BRUCEK: All right. Break it up! I don't need any more legal issues with Skywalker Ranch and the Disney people!
*The characters all scurry out the door, pulling up their pants and whatever their alien equivalents are. Bruce returns to the bar, throwing the baseball bat back underneath it.*
BRUCEK: Damn fan fiction characters!
LI'L BIT: So why are we here?
BRUCEK: Ostensibly because you wandered into this bar after you ran your car off the road. In actuality, Teri Cross Chetwood is taking a nap and having a tortured dream after four 5-layer burritos.
FRIEDA: I hate Mexican food.
LI'L BIT: Frieda, you're a Latina.
FRIEDA: Doesn't mean I have to love the food. Gimme Italian any day.
BIANCA: What do you want to eat then, luv?
FRIEDA: Hey, BruceK! You got any edible undies?
BRUCEK: Let's not discuss my choice of skivvies here, Frieda.
FRIEDA: Fruit snacks?
*BruceK sticks his hand in a jar*
BRUCEK: Well, I did have fruit snacks, but the fruits ate them all.
BIANCA: Why would fruits eat fruit snacks?
BRUCEK: Dogs eat dog snacks.
BIANCA: I can't argue with that. Hey, is that Queen Victoria in the game room?
BRUCEK: Probably from someone's historical fiction.
BIANCA: That'll make TWO queens I've met.
*Bianca almost runs to the game room*
ALICE: Hey, Bruce. Whatever happened to that Johnny Cash song you used to sing?
BRUCEK (singing): I fell in to a burning ring of fire....
ALICE: No, the one ABOUT Johnny Cash.
BRUCEK (singing): I'm sitting down here on these tracks / Waiting for good old Johnny Cash...
LI'L BIT (covering her ears): Bruce, man, only thing keeping you from a singing career is your voice.
GRETCHEN: Bit, don't be rude!
LI'L BIT: I'm not rude. If I was rude, I'd have said he sounds like Filipino music.
GRETCHEN: Bit, you're a Filipina.
LI'L BIT: Doesn't mean I have to like the music. Hey, Bruce. Gimme a San Miguel Pale Pilsner.
*Bruce hands her the beer, and Bianca comes running back to the bar, a wild look in her eyes*
BIANCA: The Queen disappeared!
*Shadowcat comes running to the bar, too.*
SHADOWCAT: So did the Cheshire Cat!
(pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop)
GRETCHEN: Bruce! What's happening, baby? Everything's going (pop).
(pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop) (pop)
CONTINUED IN BRUCEK'S INVASION OF THE PONY TAILS STRIPPERS, PART 2: THE GOODMAN BLIMP. Check BruceK's page.
© Copyright 2017 Teri Cross Chetwood. All rights reserved.
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