Another duet

         for one 

chapter 43



                          “Well I called you first. How do you like that? 


                          “How's it going? How is it going?” I'll tell you

                          how it is going. It's not going. At all! That's how

                          it's going.”

                          “No, no, no, I'm not angry Petra. I'm seething.

                          I'm freaking out of my mind. I'm fucking very

                          angry, you betcha!”

                          “Your project? This project is dead. DEAD!

                          Unless of course you would like to go right

                          back to the beginning, like none of this ever

                          happened. Didn't you scout this thing? Didn't

                          you vet this place at all. What the fuck are

                          you people thinking. What are you doing.


                          “What happened? What happened? I'll tell you,

                          I'll tell you what fucking happened. I go looking

                          for the idiot sheriff or minister or whatever you

                          call it and there he is in his pulpit preaching his

                          stupid head off in an empty church  while getting

                          his jimmy waxed by his idiot psycho church lady

                          tranny boy friend.


                          “Are you fucking kidding me! What the fuck?

                          You told me pure and unsullied. Like the driven 

                          snow. You sent me to Gomorrah Petra. You can't

                          corrupt Gomorrah.”


                          “No Petra, the town is not shocked, they don't

                          seem to give a shit. Not phased at all, and, the

                          crew thinks me, you, me and your board of geniuses

                          over there are over-funded industry elite shit-fa-brains

                          snobs and they're fucking right. You or I have no idea

                          what other cast of deviates are lurking in this

                          god-forsaken shithole.”

                          “Do you Petra? Do you? Do you think you know what,

                          what, whatever lurks in the hearts of men because you

                          have a corner fucking office? Fuck you. Fuck reality

                          television. Fuck your network and fuck this town.”


                          “We're outta here in the morning. I'm going back to L.A.

                          Sports interview shows and driver's ed films seems a

                          paradise now Petra.”


                          “Well you tell your precious board whatever you like

                          Petra. Why don't you tell them wild animals trashed

                          the remote studio trailer because guess what, they did.

                          Totally trashed. 36 feet of hot garbage on wheels.”


                          “Not a chance. Every wire chewed to hell, the boards

                          are saturated with piss and shit and we lost half the

                          cameras and audio gear which was in the trailer. And

                          the stink in there could gag a maggot. You want to

                          fix that, go'head. Good luck with that. You can pick up

                          your studio right here in Ardensville because the tow

                          and the  driver left in the night.

                                              No one is saying why. Good bye.”



  "Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."