(The past few days I noticed that my site views were higher than normal so I check out what was being viewed the most. I was a little surprised to see that my top three blog posts for the week were about John Travolta, Rednecks and pit bulls.)
So, I decided to write a little story that incorporates all three:
Pam the Bartender– she’s about 48 years old, with stringy blonde hair and looks like a meth addict.
John Travolta- playing himself of course
Skeeter the Redneck– a very prideful Southern man who obviously hates gays, blacks and anyone who doesn’t believe in God. He’s about 6’4” tall and built like a lumberjack, a big goatee and mullet hair.
Hitler the Pit-Bull- Skeeter’s dog who will attack, he has a Confederate Flag collar
Fade In– a somewhat seedy bar in Sanford, Fl (where the Trayvon Martin ordeal took place). Travolta is already sitting at the bar, smiling creepily and ordering Cosmopolitans as Skeeter walks in with his pit bull Hitler.
Pam- (flirting) Sure thing big boy, right away. Your dog sure is cute and I love his name, that’s so different.
Travolta- (with an oddly creepy smile) Um, excuse me miss, but you do realize who his dog is named after, don’t you?
Skeeter- Hey sissy boy, I’m sittin’ right here, if you want to say something, go ahead and say it.
Pam- (giggling) I’ve heard that name before, but not sure where. I think there was a guy on the Price is Right the other day named Hitler. He done real well on Plinko, won gobs of cash money.
Travolta- (like a pissed off Queen) You have to be kidding me. Hitler was one of the most brutal men in history. He was responsible for killing millions of Jews.
Skeeter- (interrupting and taking his hat off) I tell you what boy, you best stopping talking shit about my dog Hitler. You talk all your history mumbo jumbo, but my dog ain’t never hurt nobody, nobody who didn’t deserve it that is. And you best stop talking about Jews, those fuckers killed my Jesus.
Travolta- (mystified) You seriously named your dog after a brutal world leader? You are ridiculous.
Skeeter- (seriously pissed now) I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous. I know who you is boy.
You was in that terrible fucking movie called Face Off. You know, the one where you switched faces and all that shit. That was fucking terrible. I actually threw a horeshoe through my t.v. cus’ it was so bad.
So, the way I sees it, you owe me about $200 for a new t.v. It was a VCR/T.V. combo unit, one of them nice ones.
Travolta- (a bit embarrassed) Well, that was more of a monetary movie decision. It wasn’t the best script, but I’m not paying you a damn dime.
Oh, and wasn’t in that one movie where you were an angel? Do you still have those wings???
I tried to tell my boyfriend that it was a true story, but he slapped me and said I was a stupid whore.
Skeeter- (starting to laugh) I tell you what Mr. Hollywood, you got two ways out of this bar alive;
1. You give me the $200 you owe me for the T.V. or
2. We can go in the back and you can give me a massage. HA, HA, HA, that’s right sissy boy, I watch TMZ, I know you like to get your shaft touched by other men you pay to rub you down.
Travolta- (about to shit his pants) Alright, I’m sorry about the T.V., here’s $400, that should cover it and maybe use the extra to buy Hitler a new collar.
Skeeter- (walking right up to Travolta) What, you don’t like Hitler’s collar, I think it looks purty on him.
Speaking of purty, you sho got a purty mouth on you boy. Why don’t you help me in the bathroom for a minute, I will be gentle.
Fade Out: As the camera slowly pans away, you see Skeeter holding open the bathroom door as Travolta starts to unzip his pants.