Oh my goodness. C.W. had only appeared as two people twice before, and those involved the conjoined twins Lucky and Lefty, one of his favorite shape-shifts. This time he appeared as two separate individuals, a couple who looked as if they had just been evicted from a “meth-house” in Alabama.
“Have you met my wife, Dolly Winona?” the male figure asked.
“What’s up, C.W.?” I said.
“I have an idea,” he said.
“And that is?”
“We want us our own television show,” Dolly Winona said.
“Yes,” said C.W. “I think it would look good on my final report to the Falloonian Elders if I had a television show for awhile.”
“Well they don’t exactly feature the best and the brightest on shows these days, do they?”
“No, you got to be crazy, worthless, or just a plain misfit to make it,” Dolly Winona said.
I must have looked confused.
“So we are hippies,” said C.W.
“Don’t you know hippies went out after the 1960s?”
It was his turn to look confused.
“So how about the 1970s?”
“Not much but disco.”
“Ain’t nobody would be hard up enough to make a movie about disco dancers, would they?” Dolly Winona said.
“We’ll talk about that another day,” I said.
“So what’s worse than disco?” C.W. said.
“In modern times?”
“Yes, we need a theme featuring what your gospel writer Matthew called, ‘the least of these.’”
“Outlaw truck drivers?”
“Taken,” he said.
“Intermediate hominoid species who live in swamps in Louisiana and, say, hunt alligators for their livelihood?”
“Gun enthusiasts with diminished mental capacity?”
“Bless his heart,” Dolly Winona said. “Don’t he know the State of Texas ain’t never gonna run out of them shows?”
“Slutty women with no talent, no abilities, and no redeeming qualities?”
“Taken, taken, taken, and taken.”
“Whur’d we ever find a slutty woman, anyway?” Dolly Winona interrupted with some indignation in her voice. And besides, we’s figurin’ on bein’ a couple on the show.”
“Yeah, You know how family oriented TV is these days.” She reached into her bag and retrieved two cans of Mountain Dew.
“You ‘ont one?”
“No thanks,” I said.
She handed the other a can and both popped the tops. Spray settled on floor and couch, but I ignored it.
“We got to think of somebody sorry,” Dolly Winona said. “Just plain sorry. We’s aimin’ for a big hit.”
Inspiration struck me. “How about ….”
They both leaned forward.
“How about …”
“Come on, spit it out, Hon,” said Dolly Winona.
“How about … Trailer Trash Ministries?”
“You could be television evangelists specializing in ministering to a different trailer park each week.”
|Ya'll come see us at our new|
International Headquarters. - C.W. and Dolly Winona
“Where can we get us a Bible?” C.W. said, rising to leave.