BEARLY MANAGING ...
Written by
John A. Hallock
John A. Hallock
32025 E. Adams Lake Road
Webb Lake, WI 54830
715-259-7271
jhallock@centurytel.net
www.woodsmanmagazine.com
"BEARLY MANAGING ..."
SETTING
A modernized but rustic log sided, two story, general store in the middle of a wilderness forest and lakes region. Vacationland! The air is crisp and clean and filled with the scent of pine. Haggard city dwellers come for adventure, for rest, and for ... mosquito bites. The store is one large open room with tall ceilings, log rafters and walls, and beautiful, but squeaky plank floors. Old photos, antique logging tools, and fishing equipment hang on the walls. The lighting chandeliers are fashioned from deer antlers, and there's a full sized stuffed bear standing on its hind legs by the front door to greet visitors. It's a store dedicated to the outdoor enthusiasts and the decor is vital. A little bell on the top of the door tinkles whenever the door opens.
The store is the place where outdoor sports enthusiasts travel to supple and outfit themselves for the wilderness adventure with groceries, clothes, scary campfire stories, and everything in-between. A place where they find all they'll need to get dirty, smelly, and cranky in the space of a 3 day weekend.
Shorty Baker's General Store brings both kinds of people together. City folks and country folks. It is a local landmark with a wide, wrap around covered porch and a large open staircase that leads to the front door. The heart of the place is the big table and woodstove back in the bait and tackle department. The store is located in a wide spot in the pines, a place called Timber Ridge. They are the only business for miles around. Gunny and Buncher left their jobs in the city and bought the place from Shorty 20 years ago. They kept the name but added the slogan, Bearly Managing ...
She does all the work while he makes the coffee and holds court in Shorty's old chair at the table in front of the wood stove. He claims to add to the rich tradition of local culture by providing advice. information, and stories to tourists and thus provides important P.R. for the store, though she spells it B.S. And so the day begins and this little sanctuary near the back of the store becomes a place for strong coffee, strong opinions, and big lies. But mostly, it's place for talkin' smart.
FADE IN
Several local people and tourists are sitting at the table in the bait and tackle department. Aerators on the minnow tanks are buzzing nonstop in the background, the store is filled with customers, each to their own agenda and serving to make the table an island of humanity in a sea of commerce. They sit sipping coffee from big mugs and nibbling on hearty slices of Founder's Day pie. There are several conversations going on at once, hence the art of talking smart.
TINKER
From his end of the table.
Well here it is again, another Founder's
Day Picnic with fun and games and excitement.
MONA
Yeah, and enough homemade potato salad in
the afternoon sun they serve it right in the
puke pans. It helps to hold down the mess
and makes for a real nice souvenir.
GUNNY
From the other end of the table.
Is it wrong not to like an owl?
THOUSAND PERCENT TIM
I don't know about right or wrong, but I
imagine it's not politically correct to dis-
like any bird, much less the wise old owl.
Tim goes into his "right on" imitation of an owl hooting, which draws the attention of the other customers.
Gunny
Yeah that's it, a hooting, hooting old owl
right outside our honeymoon tent. I mean,
it cut off our happy time right quick and
totally threw off my concentration and my timing, if you know what I mean. I hate owls.
Mona
Picks up the coffee pot and begins filling cups around the table.
Honey, if you took your bride to a tent on
your honeymoon you got bigger problems than
a little old hoot owl. But then, she has it
even worse, yet. Yeah, she got the bird and
you, who took her camping on her honeymoon.
You're just darn lucky that time was the only
thing that got cut off. If you know what I mean.
TOURIST
Thanks Mona for the coffee with a nod.
Founder's Day? What's a Founder's Day?
Local salesman Johnny the "C" stands up but ignores the tourist's question.
JOHNNY "THE C"
The Founder's Day picnic sure ain't what it
used to be. It's a young man's game and I'm
getting too old. I just can't do the physical
stuff anymore, and the potato sakes give me
claustrophobia. Hey, need a watch?
He takes off his long sleeve shirt to reveal several watches on each forearm.
Johnny cont.
How about a retro T shirt?
He begins stripping off the several T Shirts he is wear. The Stones, The Who, Chicago, The Allman Brothers ...
Johnny cont.
Something else? Carpet? A car? Advertising?
I sell good advertising. Got a businesses?
Want to buy one?
Tourist
You get claustrophobic by putting your legs
into a gunny sake?
Johnny
Legs? Well, that explains it ... hey, how
about screens, do you need a screen door?
Aluminum siding? A tatoo? Ah? Mom? Your
girlfriend's name? Boyfriend?
Tilts his head and winks
Or maybe you want a classic, a big bug or
reptile permanently printed into your skin?
I know, a horny toad. I know this artist
over in Hobbs Corners ...
Tourist
Standing up and facing the group.
Founder's Day? You never told me what it is?
Tim
Putting down his coffee mug.
Age is a state of mind. And if you think
you can see through a potato sake ... you
can. It doesn't matter how old you are.
Gunny
Only how drunk.
W.W.
Age is not so much a state of mind as a
state of gas. Constant!
Tinker
That's right, the mind has nothing to do with
it. I can picture myself chasin' a pretty
woman, but in reality if I have to run farther
than from the house to my boat at the dock
out front my achin' knees will shut down all
body functions from there up.
Tim
Hey, I know your wife. And I gotta believe,
if she catches you chasin' a pretty woman
she won't shut down bodily functions ...
she'll induce them.
W.W.
Chewing on a splinter of wood from the wood box as a toothpick.
Ha, knees got nothing to do with it. When
push comes to shove it's Mr. Johnson who
finally let's you know when you're old.
Tourist
Looking a little embarrassed
And by Mr. Johnson you mean, well, to put
it nicely, you know you're getting old when
you become impotent?
W.W.
Huh? My religion's got nothin' to do
with it.
Tourist
A little exasperated
No. Not your religion. Your penis. Mr.
Johnson is your penis?
W.W.
Wide eyed.
The hell you say? Mr. Johnson is the
guy at the DMV who informs people to get
their eyes tested on their 65th birthday.
And his penis got nothing to do with it
either. In fact I don't think they even
allow them at the DMV.
Gunny
Laughing and waving a finger at the group.
You're all wrong. You know you're getting
old when your best "head rush" comes from
straining to hard on the toilet.
A tall, fat man dressed in white, like a baker, speaks up.
BAKER
All I know is you're never too old to eat
pie or cake. It's always been that way.
In fact, 'Let them eat cake!' was actually
the name of Marie Antoinette's correspon-
dence baking school. And you're never too
old to eat bakery. But today the day
belongs to pie and eating it real fast.
In fact, I even won the pie eating contest
at last years Founder's Day Picnic. I
trained all year. Ate two pies a day six
days a week and three on Sunday.
Tourist
You increased your work out on Sundays?
BAKER
No, I took Sundays off.
Tourist
Beseeching the crowd.
Hey, nobody has answered my question ...
what's Founder's Day.
Gunny
Shaking his head.
It's a celebration on the anniversary of
the day our forefathers literally found the
area and settled here, give or take a week
or two depending on whether the funeral home
over in Hobbs Corners needs the table and
chairs, and beer tapper.
W.W.
Looking surprised. Bewildered.
Forefathers? Founders? There weren't no
founders here, let alone four of them. It
was Shorty Baker himself who came through
here first, more than 40 years ago on his
way west from New York to Chicago.
Tourist
But we're 450 miles north of Chicago.
W.W.
Well Shorty suffered from what we call Self
Imposed Directional Disorder.
Tourist
Huh?
W.W.
He refused to stop and ask for directions.
Tourist
So what? He just stopped here to rest?
Gunny
To pee. Two 48 ounce Big Gulps and we had
our founder. ItÕs a story to bring a tear
to your eye.
Tinker
Look of disgust.
Tears? Now don't start that sensitive stuff
again. There ain't no excuse. No excuse at
all for a grown man to cry in public.
Tourist
How about when he breaks a sliver off under
his fingernail?
Tinker
No!
Tourist
How about when you run outa beer before you
run outa brat? Or nail your foot to a roof
you are shingling? Or you fill the car up
with three dollars and fifty cent gas only
to watch your teenager drive it away?
TINKER
Maybe? No! Maybe?
W. W.
How about if you slam your thumb in the
car door?
Tinker
No!
Tim
How about when you realize you left a dol-
lar too much for a tip, but the waitress
already saw you put it down.
Tinker
Well? I guess, No to that too. But are
you sure she saw?
Gunny
How about when your wife throws away your
lucky cap then makes you clean the gutters.
In the process you fall off the ladder and
break your leg in two places. Is it okay
for a man to cry then?
Gunny slaps his bad leg.
Tinker
Well, heck yeah, you could cry under those
circumstances. I mean, it was your lucky hat.
Buncher appears from around the last grocery isle and approaches the table full of people. All heads turn to look up at her.
BUNCHER
How about when the store proprietor cuts
off the free coffee and picks up her broom.
She waves the broom slowly in front of her.
Buncher cont.
Listen guys, between all the laughing and
crying, and some darn good owl hooting you've
begun to overflow the department. People are
afraid to come in here for postcards or any-
thing else for fear of being accosted by big
talking locals who drag them into an idiotic,
nonsensical, and probably untrue conversations
about nothing important at all.
Gunny
So, what's your point?
Buncher
I think maybe it's time you boys cleared out
of here and take to the woods for the rest
of the day.
When no one moved to leave she got this real scary expression and pointed the broom directly at the table.
Buncher cont.
Don't make me use this.
Everyone but Gunny scatters from the bait and tackle department and out the door. He sits in his chair thinking back to the first night they arrived at their newly purchased general store.
Gunny
Daydreaming
I remember a time when you didn't know which
end of that broom to hold, let alone how to
use it. You've come a long way.
Buncher
Long roll over sigh.
Yeah, but that somehow seems like the wrong
way.
Gunny
I'll always remember our first night here.
Buncher smiles and throws him the broom.
Buncher
A longer roll over sign.
Remember it? Hell I can't forget it!
FADE OUT
SCENE II
Twenty years before, a younger Gunny and Buncher are standing in the early morning semidarkness on a big front porch of the old general store building they'd just purchased. The silence is deafening, the mood charged, and they were scared out of their city slicker wits.
Gunny
Hey, get going with those keys, it's dark
out here in the middle of nowhere and my
Bogey Man radar is on high alert.
Buncher
It's 5:30 in the morning. What did you expect?
Gunny
Looking out into the darkness.
I don't know, I'm a city guy. It's never
really dark there. I guess I just assumed they
had electricity out here. Maybe we should
have asked about that. And it's way too
quiet too. Right about now I'd
pay to hear a siren, or a cabby swearing
at me in Iranian, or see one of those
flickering half burned out taco sign.
What have you gotten us into?
Buncher
First, you will not pay to hear a city
sound, after buying this place you couldn't
afford to buy a city smell, or anything
else. And what do you mean? I got us
into? You were the one who saw the ad
in the newspaper. You were the one who
said it was an omen that the paper was
open to that page, at that time. You were
the one who, in a burst of unbridled
impulse, bought this place sight unseen
over the phone and dragged me along.
Gunny
Yeah, but you were the one who bought the
bird ten years ago, and then you were
the one who married me and started bossing
me around, and you were the one who made
me put the newspaper in your bird's cage
open to the want ads. Don't think I don't
have you figured out. I mean (points to
his head), what's the old saying, "stub-
born as an ass and twice as sly."
Buncher
Well, besides being half right there,
you're the only one I ever heard say that.
But that doesn't change anything, we're
here and we can't turn back. And once I
get this door open, you're going in first.
Besides everyone knows the bogey man is
never outside, he's either under the bed
or waiting just inside a dark room.
Gunny
Smug!
It sounds like you're afraid of the dark?
Buncher
Scared? Listen, after signing a no limit
adjustable rate mortgage, a fixed rate mort-
gage, and a six month promissory note to
secure vendors, whatever they are, all to
buy a business I haven't even seen yet, I
guess I'm not scared of anything anymore.
But I'm still not going in first. You've
already set a precedence here, and back
in the city you always went into a dark
room first.
Gunny
Well sure I did ... but that was different,
back home it's city dark. This, is a whole
other deal. This is backwoods dark. There's
a difference ... I mean it. I read about
it. It's something to do with pine trees.
Or was it porcupines? Anyway it affects
the darkness here, it's ... thicker!
Buncher
Thicker? Do you mean like ketchup is thicker?
Or your head is thicker?
Gunny
No, what I mean is, well ... I mean, just
because ...
Buncher
Mocking him.
Just because? You know, I never realized
it until now, but you sound the same when
you're afraid of the dark as when you're
asking for sex.
Gunny
Well that's understandable, I'm terrified
then too. But you still go in first.
Buncher
Okay then you big baby. I'm going in, but
you be right behind me.
Gunny
See, it is like when I ask you for sex.
Buncher fumbles with the keys while Gunny ventures a nervous step to the window, cleans the glass with the cuff of his shirt, cups his hands around his eyes, and looks inside.
Buncher
What do you see? What's in there?
Gunny
I'm not sure.
He presses his face against the glass.
It's either a big ugly stuffed bear standing
up on its back legs and wearing a fishing hat,
or, your Aunt Bea got here ahead of us and
she's standing up on her back legs and wearing
her fishing hat.
He turns to face Buncher
Gunny cont.
Geez, I didn't even know she fished.
Buncher returns Gunny's sarcastic smile. She turns around to put the key into the lock but then stops and turns back to face Gunny.
Buncher
Oh no! You didn't?
She grabs her stomach. Apprehension spreads across her face.
I'm getting that funny feeling again, like
that time a few years ago when you took me
on vacation to a broken down hotel where the
private facilities turned out to be ... yep,
it's that same feeling. I can't even say it
out loud. It was too horrible. But you say
it, tell me again and again.
Shouting
Tell me a thousand times, and never forget
what you did. Now say it. Tell me what they
gave us for private facilities.
Gunny
Shouting back
An outhouse! Okay, an outhouse. And it wasn't
a run down hotel. It was a fishing lodge and
it was rustic. Besides the outhouse had a
fresh coat of whitewash, a new fly strip,
and two holes. That's right, top of the line,
a two seater. I got my own hole.
Buncher
An outhouse. But that wasn't all, was it?
Remember? How can you forget? Instead of
a fruit basket in our room they gave us a
min ..., a min ..., a minnow bucket. An
outhouse and a minnow bucket. You big
spender. Why not, oh I don't know ...
free spiders! Or maybe a plug of tobacco?
Yes that's it, they should have included
chewing tobacco in that gift bucket, then
I could have spit down your hole.
And what about the bat flying around in
the room? Welcome to our motel, feel free
to contract rabies at your leisure, and the
tetanus shots? They made us pay for them
ourselves, didn't they?
Gunny
Slapping his forehead.
Will you ever forget about that vacation.
Buncher
Shouting.
An outhouse! Never!
Catches her breath
Buncher cont.
And now this. Is that what this is all
about too? Oh my gosh. There's no electric?
Is there plumbing? Not another outhouse
with flies, and mice, and ... splinters!
She gets up into his face.
Buncher cont.
No Sir, I will never forget it. Not in
this lifetime, or the next one, or the one
after that. In fact 400 years from now
when your spirit has yet to evolve out of
the slimy little man creature and a soaring
eagle over head poops down on your head
that will be me still never forgetting
the outhouse in this life.
Gunny
Exasperated
If you are quite done ranting, and raving,
and pooping on my head could we please get
on with this adventure to relive and hate
another time, too?
Buncher
Disgusted.
An outhouse!
Gunny
The door. Turn the key and lets go in.
Buncher turned to fumble with the keys again when the door squeaked loud and opened a few inches on its own.
Buncher
Surprised. Scared.
It wasn't locked. It wasn't locked. What
kind of place isn't locked in the dark?
What does it mean?
Gunny
It means the Bogey man got here first.
Now go ahead. Go on in. I'll be right
here behind you.
Buncher
No you should go in first. You're the man.
Gunny
Hey, I don't think there is any reason to
start throwing around meaningless titles.
I mean, if it's a dark bedroom or kitchen I'm
your guy. But there is something really scary
about gong into a heavily mortgaged, hundred
year old building in the middle of the night.
Besides you're the strong one. You had the
babies. I just watched.
BUNCHER
I think the official term for it is ...
Fainting
Gunny
Potato, tomato. Go ahead. Everyone knows the
Bogey man is afraid of girls.
Buncher finally gives up the argument and takes a step across the threshold, Gunny is close behind, but then she stops when she hears the little bell attached to the top of the door ring softly.
Buncher
What was that?
Gunny did not hear the bell and stood terrified holding onto to Buncher's shoulders from behind and looking back over his shoulder.
Gunny
What was what? What was what?
Buncher
A sound. I heard some kind of a sound. It
was a, a ... tinkling sound.
Gunny
Looks down at the front of his pants.
You could hear that?
Buncher
Now a little disgusted.
To think there was a time when I thought
of you as brave.
Gunny
Oh yeah. Don't give me that hero stuff
again. This ain't a spider in the tub or
a moth in the lamp. This is bigger, it's
the first time I've ever been standing in
the dark woods at least two links down the
food chain.
Buncher
Pushes the door all the way open. A mixture of odors belches out from the darkness inside.
Do you smell that?
Gunny
Smell it? Are you kiddin'? It's curling
my nose hairs so tight my voice is squeaking.
Buncher
Wait a minute. This isn't just one odor.
Let's see there is coffee, wood smoke,
sweat, and something else, something I
can't quite put my finger on, it's some-
thing, something, that's it, it's some-
thing ... DEAD!
Gunny
Oh yeah, that would be ... US!
SCENE III
FADE IN
The lights inside the old building flash on. The large one room store appears before the astounded Buncher and Gunny. They stand stunned at the breath and scope of the place, of the rustic ambiance. They stand in the door. Gunny turns his head and jumps with freight when he sees the stuffed bear standing just a few inches away. But most surprising of all ... there are people inside. Real living and breathing people who, seconds before, had been sitting in the total darkness.
There is woman, smartly dressed like a professional but wearing a white, smudged apron and greasy cook's hat, sitting on a stool at the end of the breakfast and lunch counter near the far wall. She is working feverishly on her lap top and cell phone, there are several men sitting at a table back in the bait and tackle department drinking coffee and talking.
Buncher
People? There are people sitting in here
... in the dark. Oh this is a little
creepy, what next, chainsaws, banjo music,
Barry Bonds?
Gunny
Raises his voice a little and address the people.
Why are you sitting in the dark?
WOMAN
We were sitting in the dark because the
lights were off. Power shortage at this
end of the line. You'll get used to it.
It happens almost every morning this time.
Name's Ramona Maglicatory, but please,
call me Mona. It's the rinky dinky power
company in this neck of the woods. We share electricity with the hospital. Old
Doc Spencer must be taking out an appendix
or tonsils this morning. Hey, have either
of you ever had your appendix or tonsils
out? He'll be glad to see new blood, er,
I mean, new people in town.
Buncher
To Gunny
What in the name of Stumpjumerville have
you gotten us into? We left good jobs and
a life in the city to sit in the dark and
sell bait and toilet paper. And I still
smell something dead.
Gunny
Well, there you go, you're already ahead
of me on this because I wasn't even sure
if they had toilet paper.
Buncher
I mean it.
Gunny
So do I.
Buncher
I don't know if it was scarier with the
lights off or on. And I wonder if I can
do this? I mean look at this place. What do
I do if someone brings something to the re-
gister, like slimy bait, and it's too gross
for me to touch, or even look at. What do I
do then?
Gunny
Oh don't worry about that. If someone shows
up to buy something that makes you squeamish ...
He reaches over and takes the hat off the stuffed bear's head and hands it to Buncher.
Gunny cont.
Here, just put a hat over it and move on.
CUSTOMER
Shouts from the table back in bait and tackle department.
Hey, what's the two fifty breakfast special?
Buncher
Is he talking to me?
Gunny
Yes, I think he is.
Buncher
Well, what, what should I do?
Gunny
I don't know ... how about bacon and eggs?
Buncher
What?
Gunny
I'll have whole wheat toast.
Gunny walks off to join the group at the table in bait and tackle. Buncher is left with the bear hat in hand and a confused expression crossing her face. She finally turns and retreats to the breakfast counter.
SCENE IV
FADE IN
Gunny meets the gang who congregate daily in the bait and tackle department to drink coffee and talk smart.
Gunny
Smiles. He's a little nervous.
Well you may have guessed from the 'deer
in the headlightsÓ expression when the
lights did come on that we are the new pro-
proprietors. I am Gunny and my wife over there
is Buncher.
Customer
Gunny and Buncher, you sound like the last
two kittens in a litter. Or that singinÕ
group from the 60s. No that was the Captain
and the Tangerine.
Gunny
You mean Tenille.
Customer
Oh, Gunny and Tenille?
Gunny
No the Captain and Tenille
Customer
So you are that old singing group?
Gunny
Figures it might be better to just humor him.
Yes, yes we are, thank you. Anyway you fellas all live out here. I imagine you'Õve
all been around the poison ivy patch a time
or two.
Customer
Squeal like an rat.
Gunny
I beg your pardon.
Customer
AinÕt that one of your old hits, Muskrat
Love? Ah, me and misses use to skin musk-
rats to that song.
Gunny
I donÕt do the muskrat sounds. That would
be Tenille. Anyway, whatÕs the first thing
me and Buncher can do to make a real good
go of this?
TIM
Stop payment on your check and run like hell.
Tinker
Light a match and run like hell.
W.W.
Stop payment, light a match, and ... divorce her!
FREDDY THE FORECLOSURE
Ahh, donÕt pay attention to W.W. here. HeÕs
got a thing about women.
W.W.
ItÕs called passion.
Freddy
ItÕs called alimony.
W.W.
To Gunny
Well if you donÕt have the NADs to divorce
her, at least ease your load a little and
evict Mona ... then run like hell.
Gunny
Confused. Smiles
All good ideas in their own right, IÕm sure.
But youÕve got me running like a scared rabbit.
W.W.
Oh, so youÕve met Mona.
Gunny
Well, only just a second ago when the lights
came back on.
Tim
Mister, all I can say is when it comes to
Mona never show fear. If she thinks youÕre
scared of her it donÕt matter how much butt
you got, when she gets to chewing on it you
wonÕt have enough. Personally, if I was
in your shoes IÕd ... run like hell.
Gunny
Now youÕre starting to scare me. I already
donÕt have enough butt with Buncher chewing
on it all the time. It sounds like this Mona
is some kind of bully, some kind of rabble-
rouser.
Freddy
Worse. SheÕs a Realtor, and sheÕs your ten-
ant. She runs her business from a stool
on the end of your breakfast and lunch
counter. And when sheÕs not pushing real
estate to the tourists sheÕs slinging hash
on your grill. I mean last Friday the special
was Broiled Cod $2.50 or a Cape Cod $250,000.
She can give you heartburn either way. All
and all the best professional advice I can
give you before you get started here is turn
around and ... run like hell.
SCENE V
FADE IN
Buncher sits down on the stool next to Mona who, even at the early hour is making one phone call after another on two different cell phones. Finally ...
Mona
You must be the new people. IÕve seen that,
Òwhat have we got ourselves intoÓ expres-
sion before. Well, at the least, it will
be a transition and just between me and you
the first thing you need to know, never
listen to or take orders from any of that
bunch of lay abouts and liars in the back
there. And if ignoring them doesnÕt work
for you, try a broom.
Buncher
IÕll keep that in mind. And you are right
on both observations, we are the new pro-
proprietors, and I do wonder what have we got-
ten ourselves into. IÕm Buncher and thatÕs
my husband Gunny getting to know the wrong
crowd right off. My first impression is a little scary. I guess I thought it would
be different.
Mona
Laughs.
Kinda like sex, huh? But you got it worse
yet. From the looks of the way your husband
has taken to that group of smart talking
lay-abouts youÕre going to be pretty much
on your own.
Buncher
Frowns
Kinda like sex, huh?
Mona
Laughs.
It takes many hands to hold all the ends
that need meeting to survive around here.
Multiple business are the norm. Not just
one little business, but two or three at
the same time. Take the Lone Pine Bar, Grill,
and Electrologist Center out on Coon Dog
Road. ItÕs a nice place with a catchy slo-
gan ... Cold Beer, Juicy Burgers, No Hair!
Buncher
Multiple businesses, many hands you say?
Imagine that, my husband doesnÕt work very
well with his hands. He claims he was
born with hands that donÕt fit tools.
Claims heÕs a Public Relations guy. YouÕll
see all that soon enough. But tell me,
IÕve seen you on the phone since the lights
came on. YouÕre either a Bookie or a ...
Mona
Real estate. I sell real estate and cook
breakfast and lunch. This is where I meet
many of my customers. But nowadays I guess
a bookie and real estate agent are a lot
alike. A gamble is a gamble.
Buncher
Are you married? Do you have children?
Mona
Yes. TheyÕre one in the same. My husband
Lawrence, they call him Tinker, is one of
those regulars at the table back there in
bait and tackle with the rest of them ...
and now it looks like your husband too.
Join the club.
Buncher
Okay, so tell me now, right in the beginning.
How do I get rid of them?
Mona
Well, thatÕs not possible, first you have
to understand who you are dealing with here.
ThereÕs not a bigger bunch of smart talking
gold bricks this side of the Blueberry
Hill Cafe, Bakery, and Quick Oil Change Center
over in Hobbs Corners. But youÕd sooner
ring wrinkles outa a cheap blouse than get
those boys outa here. TheyÕre like dust
bunnies, no matter how hard you sweep them they just tumble around and come back when youÕre not
looking. The best you can do is control
them. ItÕs like puppy training. Keep them
in the corner near their dish and the mess,
and in this case the BULL, doesnÕt spread
across the whole place. But the main thing
is ... never show fear.
Buncher
I wonder if a rolled up newspaper would work?
Mona
I wouldnÕt chance it. I tried that at first
with Lawrence. Gave him a good whack on the
rump every time he got outa line. It worked
for a time, but after a while he started
liking it. The next thing I know IÕm in heels
and leather and heÕs barking like a dog. But
I do use treats like you do when youÕre
training your puppy. YouÕd be surprised what
a man will do for a chocolate kiss or Doll
Madison. The thing is, if you can control
the riffraff and learn to short change night
crawler cartons you just might make a go of
it out here on Timber Ridge. But the best
you can look for is to be like everyone else
out here and in this neck of the woods we
call that ... Bearly Managing.
SCENE V
FADE IN
ItÕs late night after the third day operating their new business. Buncher and Gunny are getting ready for bed. She is wearing a night gown and he has lust in his eyes.
Gunny
Wow, you look great.
He begins kissing her on the neck.
IsnÕt this all so exciting?
Buncher
What, the kisses or the adventure?
Gunny
The business. WeÕve been here three days now
and do you know what surprises me most?
Buncher
That I havenÕt run screaming from this place
for a divorce lawyer ... yet!
Gunny
No, cÕmon, IÕm serious. Guess what surprises
me the most?
Buncher
Serious huh? Is it the dead animal standing
by the door? Or maybe a customer base thatÕs
made up of half backwoods Neanderthal and half
yuppie from the city. And I donÕt know what
is worse, people grunting at me, or with me.
Or maybe itÕs the bugs, or the dead bait, thatÕs
the dead smell. I guess it all surprises me.
But then, what surprises you?
Gunny
ItÕs time. It passes so fast here. WeÕve
been so busy working, making new friends,
and learning new things weÕve yet to make
love in our new place here. I mean, we have
to dedicate the place. If you know what I
mean. And I can tell you IÕm blue to me ears.
Buncher
Yawns.
Not tonight Gunny. IÕm just too tired.
Gunny
Tired? CÕmon Dear. I mean, you know, I mean
you should, we should, break the place in.
Well, because ... I mean, IÕm plenty ready.
If you donÕt, what, what can I do?
Buncher
Picks up a hat off dresser and hands it to him.
ThatÕs easy, just put a hat over it and move on.