(This is part three of a short story. It is written as a
script in case I talk someone into making this into a TV special.)
To catch up click here or here
or here…and
now…on with the show:
By SJ Otto
As Hilda and I laid in
her bed, we heard a knocking at the door. Hilda got up, put on a long red robe
and went to the front door. She answered and a women, who looked similar to her
walked in. She had a bright read dress and a green shirt. She also has long
blond hair, flowing to her waist.
Hilda let her in as if
she already knew her and why she is there.
As for me, I was hung
over —badly hung
over.
REAGAN: Why are you sleeping so late?
HILDA: That is what a lot of normal people do!
REAGAN: Don't tell me you were our all night again? (Just then I crawled out of bed, put on my
blue jeans and walked out of the bedroom.) You're sleeping with some guy?
HILDA: So what? You ought'a get laid! It would help
you think straight.
REAGAN: What's this guy's name?
HILDA: Harley.
HARLEY: Hi!
REAGAN: Hi! My name is Reagan. I'm Hilda's sister.
HARLEY: Oh! How nice to meet you.
REAGAN: Hey! You have tattoos. Are they real?
HARLEY: Yes. I'm a metal man.
REAGAN: Really. I've met a lot of metal people before. I
never knew any to date chickens before.
HARLEY: There is as fist time for everything.
REAGAN: I've never really known any metal people that well.
I've always admired the metal people. You folks work so hard and you follow the
old fashion work ethic.
HILDA: These people don't work any harder than you
do. They are born metal people. They don't earn that position.
REAGAN: You're just jealous that you are not smart enough to
move up from the chicken class. If you can't test your way out it is your own
fault.
HILDA: Oh shut up! The only thing that makes a
metal person better than me is the parents they were born from.
REAGAN: You could be a metal woman if you just went to
college and studied hard. Being a chicken is your choice.
HILDA: And what is your excuse?
REAGAN: I'm fine with being a chicken. I've done my best. I
admit I'm not smart enough. I'm not metal woman material.
HILDA: I may not be college smart, but I'm not
stupid either. At least I can see how stupid this system is and at least I can
hate it. You're so stupid you just make up excuses for this system and justify
it with all the religious crap you believe.
REAGAN: There is nothing stupid about being religious. God
made me a chicken because that is my purpose in life. When I die I will reap my
just reward in heaven. You will get nothing but hell.
HARLEY: So you're a Christian? (I asked Reagan.)
REAGAN: Yes. And you?
HARLEY: Yes. I don't go to church. But I consider myself a
Christian. I was raised a 3rd class Baptist. But since I've gotten older I just
don't go to church anymore. I still believe in Jesus and I hope to go to heaven
some day.
REAGAN: I do go to church, every Sunday. I belong to the 32nd Street Megan
Baptist Church. I believe that my place in heaven is more important than what I
get out of this world. I also belong to a Bible
study group, The Fishermen Chapter.
HARLEY: I've heard of that group. I haven't really thought
that much about religion since my late teens. I don't read the Bible, but I feel it is just as
important to have faith in God and a moral sense of right and wrong. I just
don't think it is necessary to go to church all the time and study a book. And
what about you Hilda?
HILDA: I'm an atheist. I believe that religion is
just used by our government to give chickens false hope.
HARLEY: What about metal men like me? Does the government
want me to be religious?
HILDA: It's really not that different. As long as
you believe in heaven you don't have to worry about what happens in this world.
You don't have to care about this world because you believe it is just
temporary and not important. God tells you it is OK to eat people, so that is
what you do.
HARLEY: Hmm. That is an interesting take. I never thought
about it like that before. So Reagan, do you also have a set of those Marxist
books, like Hilda does?
REAGAN: No. And I would never have those books in my house.
They are anti-God.
HARLEY: They are?
REAGAN: Sure! Karl Marx and almost all those other people
who wrote her books are atheist. They believe that religion keeps you from
believing completely and totally in their Marxist state.
HILDA: That's ridiculous. They don't believe in
religion because it causes people to ignore this world in favor of a
non-existent after life.
REAGAN: You got those books from Great Great Great Uncle
Ed—who was a sore head who believed we can somehow change the system.
You would be a lot happier if you just accept Jesus into your life and accept
the system for what it is. You can't change it.
HARLEY: That's funny. I told Hilda the same thing about
changing the system.
HILDA: You two are just like Frick and Frack. You
two should be together.
HARLEY: You two are really different. I can't believe you
are so far apart in what you believe. I guess not all chickens believe the same
thing.
HILDA: You've got that right. We have nothing in
common. And why are you here today anyway?
REAGAN: You promised you would pay me back some of the
$30,000 dollars you borrowed.
HILDA: I've got some of it. (She walks into her bedroom, opens and shuts some drawers and walks back
out with a hand full of $500 bills.) Here. You can go now.
REAGAN: Don't be so angry. I just know some day you will
change your mind and go to church with me.
HILDA: Don't hold your breath.
REAGAN: Bye! (Reagan
leaves.)
HILDA: How do you feel after last night?
HARLEY: Terrible. My head hurts, My mouth is as dry as
cotton. I feel lousy all over.
HILDA: That was your first time trying R-25. I'm sure you
won't feel so bad after the next time you try it. The effects won't be so
strong either.
HARLEY: That was weird stuff. Also, you all drink. I didn't
realize that.
HILDA: A lot of us are not going to follow all those stupid
rules that are designed to make us good meat for someone else's benefit. They
can fuck off if they think we are going to follow their stupid rules.
HARLEY: I take it your sister doesn't feel that way about
rules?
HILDA: Of course not! She follows all the rules. She is a
complete idiot. Her compliance makes me sick. Jean-Paul Sartre said; "I
hate victims who respect their executioners."[1]
I like that quote.
HARLEY: Wow. I think I've read some of his stuff in school.
HILDA: Yes. he has never been banned, as other Marxist rebel
writers. That is, not all his works. Some of his writings have been banned—the
ones with Marxist quotes and references.
HARLEY: You seem well read.
HILDA: Thanks.
HARLEY: Well, I've got to go now. Next Friday we can go to
my favorite club, Kiss-My-Gun. It's not all that far from here.
HILDA: Great! I'll get some temporary tattoos some time this
week.
HARLEY: I'll get you some metal rings to go up and down your
arms. I have enough experience punching holes in flesh that I can put those in
myself. But we better start earlier than Friday. I can get some for tomorrow
night. And each night I can add some new ones until you look somewhat like a
metal woman. Since you don't like to follow rules I can poke those wholes in
you because they will close up easily after we're done for the night. They will
only last as few weeks since this will be your first puncture wounds. Those
wholes mend when the metal isn't left in them.
HILDA: You know me. I hate to follow rules anyway. What's a
few puncture wounds. What should I wear.
HARLEY: It will be casual. Not much different from what you
wore last night.
I left Hilda's and
headed home. It will be a real interesting night trying to take a chicken to my
club, among my people. But I was able to fit into her world, so maybe she can
fit OK into mine.
To be continued.......
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