Narragansett Pier After Midnight by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Revisit Plus One

Karl: “The lights are on again.”

Ernst: “If you didn’t know, contrary to popular opinion, vampires and bats are fascinated by the light. They follow it.

If you don’t believe me try using the riding mower with the lights on after dark.”

Karl: “You must be getting your misinformation from those dumb right wing sites.”

Ernst: “Yeah, right. As if Fakebook and their ‘democratic,’

truth seeking government backers are excellent sources.”

Karl: “I have an idea. Let’s go over there in the afternoon.

We’ll take a stake and a crucifix.”

Ernst: “Let’s not and say we did. Besides, the vampire is not bothering us.”

Karl: “Yet. ...... Well, I’ve already committed to going there with my girlfriend, Lena. If you’re afraid to come along; fine.”

Ernst: “Lena Fair?”

Karl: “Yes, fair Lena.”

Ernst: “Doesn’t she live in Narragansett Town?”

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Karl: “I think that she lives in Narragansett Pier now.”

Ernst: “Didn’t she get involved with some vampire crap in Narragansett Town before?”

Karl: “I don’t know and I don’t care what gossips may say about her. I have my own good experience.”

Ernst: “Didn’t George Custer say something like that right before Little Bighorn?”

Karl: “I don’t know. Let’s find out what kind of nonsense the net has regarding that. Oh, look; a play on WattPad.”

Title: “Custer’s Curious Oversight”

Scene: A dusty military tent in the heart of the Wild West.

General George Custer, sporting a flamboyant feathered hat, sits at a makeshift desk cluttered with maps and half empty whiskey bottles. His loyal aide, Lieutenant Bartholomew, nervously enters.

Lieutenant Bartholomew: General Custer, sir! Urgent news from our Injun scouts! The Sioux tribe is gathering in force just beyond the ridge. They’re armed and ready for battle!

General Custer, leaning back in his chair, twirling his mustache” Ah, Lieutenant, my boy! Excellent timing. I was just contemplating the intricacies of my latest embroidery project.

You see, I’ve been working on a lovely depiction of a prancing unicorn. Quite fetching, if I do say so myself.

Lieutenant Bartholomew, sweating profusely” Sir, this isn’t the time for embroidery! The Sioux are massing, and they’re not here to discuss needlework. We need to prepare our troops!

General Custer waves a dismissive hand: Nonsense, Bartholomew!

Those reports of Injuns are greatly exaggerated. Probably just a few bored buffalo hunters playing dress up. Besides, I’ve been

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busy organizing a square dance for the officers. It’s essential for morale, you know.

Lieutenant Bartholomew, visibly frustrated and shaking: But sir, the scouts say there are thousands of them! They’ve even spotted Crazy Horse himself, riding a painted pony and chanting ominous war songs.

General Custer takes a sip of whiskey: Oh, splendid! I’ve always wanted to learn a good war chant. Perhaps I’ll join them later.

You know, mix and mingle. Show off my dance moves. Do the

“Custer Shuffle.”

Lieutenant Bartholomew: General, we’re outnumbered! We must fortify our position, send for reinforcements, and .....

General Custer, interrupting: Reinforcements? My dear Bartholomew, I’ve sent them all to fetch me the finest silk ribbons from the East. A man can’t lead a cavalry charge without proper accessorizing, you know.

Lieutenant Bartholomew pulls at his hair: Sir, this is madness!

The Sioux are closing in! We need .....

General Custer, leaning forward, eyes gleaming: Ah, Bartholomew, you lack vision! Imagine the headlines: “General Custer Defeats Sioux Tribe with a Polka Dance-Off!” The world will marvel at my grace and rhythm. And the Sioux? They’ll be too busy clapping to fight.

Lieutenant Bartholomew despairing: General, I beg you .....

General Custer stands dramatically: Fear not, my loyal aide! I shall lead our troops into battle, armed with nothing but a kazoo and a jaunty tune. Victory awaits! Now fetch me my sequined boots. It’s time to waltz into history!

And so, dear reader, General George Custer sashayed into oblivion, leaving behind a legacy of questionable decision making and fabulous dance moves. The Sioux, bemused by the spectacle, decided to postpone their war plans and join the square dance. And that, my friends, is how the Battle of Little Bighorn became the world’s most glittery showdown.

Karl: “See, as I suspected; no damages.”

Ernst: “That’s just some stupid fiction on WattPad.”

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Karl: “So you want some stupid fiction from Wikipedia?”

Ernst: “I’d like to see a video taken with a smart phone.”

Karl: “Little brother, they didn’t have smart phones in Custer’s time. Besides, even if they did, someone would have developed the software to seamlessly edit it.”

Ernst: “So you reject all information?”

Karl: “Except Peter Lorre’s. Don’t you just love the way he pronounces een-fo-maay-tion? Little brother; are you not aware that the Year of Post Truth was more than a decade ago?”

Ernst: “My net sources say it never happened.”

Karl: “So, you agree?”

Ernst: “As if it mattered.”

Karl: “Yu be gotz yusself sum potential, boy.”

Ernst: “Tell you what. Let’s get some sleep now and tomorrow afternoon I’m with you and Lena Fair.”