Room Of Plastic Flowers

Rick: So I’ve been thinking about this for a while…and for my birthday story I want you to write us in a Western!
Writer: A Western? Why?
Rick: Well, you see it’s always been a secret dream of mine to walk around in an old town with my leather boots clunking down the dusty roads ready to draw my pistol at any man dumb enough to cross me!
Writer: Well, it is your birthday. But are you sure you want me to write this?
Rick: Absolutely!
Writer: You have read my stories, haven’t you?
Rick: I know we had a rough patch in the beginning, but I have faith in you.
Writer: Ok, I warned you.

Lifehouse in: Wooly of the West

Cast of Characters: (while you read, imagine a western twang…it will sound funnier).

Rick: The Sheriff
Jason: The Outlaw
Bryce: Miss Kitty
Ben: Saloon Owner

It had been a peaceful week in the old town of Moonshine. The townsfolk had all gathered in the town’s saloon to celebrate their faithful Sheriff Wooly’s birthday. The doors swung back and forth as the good sheriff walked in to the sound of cheers and whistles.

Sheriff: *clunk-clunk* Well, that’s mighty nice of y’all to put on such a show for me.
Saloon Owner: C’mere, Sheriff. I save a special bottle of whiskey for this occasion.
Sheriff: Ah! You’re a good man, Carey. Your saloon is the best I’ve ever been to.
Saloon Owner: Uh…it’s the only one you’ve ever been to…it is a small town after all.
Sheriff: Of course.
Saloon Owner: Oh, Sheriff Wooly, before I forget, Miss Kitty wanted to sing you a little ditty for your special day.
Sheriff: *half-heartily* Oh…has she? *leans in* Is she still? You know…
Saloon Owner: Oh I don’t talk about things like that. I think its best if we just support him…err…her.

A figure came out from the backroom. There were men whistling as the figure strutted up to the old piano in the center of the saloon. She was wearing a lacy, pink, silk dress that came up to her knee. A black boa was wrapped around her broad shoulders. She was abnormally tall and her blonde curly hair kept falling over her eyes. She motioned for one of the men nearby to help her up on the piano. The man tried several times to lift her, but was unsuccessful. He recruited another man and the two lifted her up on the piano. The Sheriff tried to smile at her as the Saloon Owner walked over and sat at the piano. He started to play a few notes while Miss Kitty introduced herself in a high-deep voice.

Miss Kitty: Hello to all of you! Today is our sheriff’s birthday!

The crowd cheered.

Miss Kitty: Sheriff, you’re one hell of a man. And I want to show you just how much we all appreciate how you’ve protected our town. Mr. Saloon Man, if you please…

The Saloon Owner started to play a song and Miss Kitty sang in her beautiful boyish-girl voice. She circled the room until she ended on the Sheriff’s lap and wrapped her black boa around his neck. She kissed him on the cheek, leaving a bright red lip print.

Sheriff: Uh…thank…thank you, Miss Kitty. Could you get off my legs, you’re cutting off the circulation…
Miss Kitty: Oh dear! I’m so sorry, Sheriff.
Sheriff: That’s quite all right, ma’am.
Miss Kitty: Did you like my song? I’ve been practicing for weeks. I wanted it to be just right for your birthday.
Sheriff: Oh, it was lovely, just lovely.
Miss Kitty: Oh I’m so glad! *she pats his chest* I’ll be back, need to powder my nose. Stay right there my big strong man! *she leaves*
Saloon Owner: *hands him a glass of whiskey* Here, you look like you need this.
Sheriff: Are you crazy?! Give me the bottle!

The Sheriff began to chug down the whiskey when all of a sudden the doors to the saloon swung open with a bang. The people inside gasped as a tall dark figure slowly clunked into the room. He was dressed in dark buttondown shirt, black assless chaps over black pants and pointy boots. A black cowboy hat sat on top of his head covering part of his left eye. All eyes were on him. The Saloon Owner had his hand on his handy shotgun under the bar and the Sheriff’s hands were grasping the whiskey bottle tightly. The man sat down a few stools from the Sheriff and tipped the corner of his hat up enough to look the Saloon Owner in the eye.

Man: C’n I’ve a drink?

The Saloon Owner poured him a glass and handed it over. The man took a long sip. The room remained quiet as the Sheriff got up and clunked over to the man.

Sheriff: Howdy, boy. I know everyone in this town. And I don’t seem to remember your name.
Man: *without looking at him* I’m not from these parts.

Just then, Miss Kitty came bursting through. She looked at the stranger and shook in horror. Her arm extended to a WANTED poster hanging over one of the tables.

Miss Kitty: It’s…it’s The Wade! The most feared outlaw this side of the Mississippi!

The Sheriff and Saloon Owner reached for their guns, but it was too late. The Outlaw had two pistols pointing in their direction. There were screams. Miss Kitty yelped and started to run for the door, but the Outlaw caught her and held one of his guns to her forehead.

Outlaw: Now if nobody does anything stupid, then we’ll all walk out of here alive. Now, sir, would you be so kind as to fill this bag here with money so I can be on my way.

The Saloon Owner did as he was told. The Outlaw put his arm around Miss Kitty’s waist.

Miss Kitty: *slaps him* You cad! Don’t touch me!
Outlaw: I’ll touch whatever I please!
Sheriff: Now, sir, ya can just let her go.
Outlaw: Oh, I see. Looks like the Sheriff’s got him someone to keep him company over those long cold western nights.
Sheriff: No. Trust me. We’re just friends.
Saloon Owner: *tosses bag of money* Here! Now get out of our town!
Outlaw: My pleasure. *lets Miss Kitty go* Have a good day, now. *tips his hat*
Sheriff: Now wait just a minute. Ya walk into my town and harass the good people of Moonshine and think ya can just walk out of here?
Outlaw: Um…yeah. I do.
Sheriff: Well you’re wrong! I wasn’t planning on any duels on my birthday, but I’m challenging ya to one!
Outlaw: You against me? I’ve got the fastest fingers in the West.
Sheriff: We’ll just see about that.

The two men stepped outside in the hot blazing sun. They stood face to face with their hands at the ready.

Sheriff: 12 paces.
Outlaw: 12 paces.
Miss Kitty: Be careful, Sheriff!
Outlaw: *still staring into the Sheriff’s eyes* You do know that’s a man, right?
Sheriff: Yes.
Outlaw: What kind of messed up town is this?
Sheriff: I know. But someone’s gotta protect it.
Outlaw: You don’t have to…
Sheriff: What a ya mean?
Outlaw: Let’s run away together!
Sheriff: *startled* Look you’re very handsome, but I can only take one man flirting with me at a time.
Outlaw: No, not like that. I hear you play a mean percussion.
Sheriff: Yeah, so?
Outlaw: Well my fingers are pretty fast on the banjo. Maybe we should start a duo?
Sheriff: A country western duo?
Outlaw: Wade and Wooly.
Sheriff: Wooly and Wade.
Outlaw: We’ll work out the details later.
Sheriff: Right, now what do we do about this duel?
Outlaw: Well, I can shoot you in the leg and then…
Sheriff: Hold on, I’ll shoot ya in the leg and then take ya to the doctor. That way we can get away.
Outlaw: Oh all right. But aim low on my leg.
Sheriff: Will do.

The two turned their backs and walked twelve paces before turning around. They both shot. The Sheriff got the Outlaw in the leg. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground. The Sheriff put his pistols away and walked towards the man on the ground. Suddenly, Miss Kitty came bounding towards them.

Miss Kitty: Wait, Sheriff! He’s not dead!

Miss Kitty aimed the Saloon Owner’s gun at the Outlaw and shot him twice in the chest.

Sheriff: Nooooo!!!!

The Sheriff ran to the Outlaw’s side, but it was too late. He was dead.

Sheriff: I…I can’t believe it. I’m gonna be stuck here for the rest of my life.
Miss Kitty: *hugging him* Oh Sheriff! I’m so glad you’re all right! Let me give you a kiss!
Sheriff: No! Don’t!

The End.

Rick: So you basically killed Jason, and I have to go to sleep with the image of Bryce in drag every night.
Writer: Aw, no need to thank me, Rick. It was my pleasure.
Rick: I bet it was.

Happy Birthday Rick!