(WESTERN THEME, W. CATTLE, WHOOPING, AND FADE FOR.....)
SS (ANNC): THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS.....brought to you by Chuck Wagon Cornstarch.....If you suffer from depression out on the trail, the problem may be your underwear. Keep it from bunching up by sprinkling it with corn starch. As we rejoin Dusty and Lefty today, we find them sitting in their prison cell, awaiting trial on charges of cattle rustling....(MUSIC)
GK (PACING): I was reading an article in a magazine, that said the key to a good criminal defense is jury selection, Dusty.
TR: Is that right----
GK: It said to avoid churchgoing people. Lutherans especially.
TR: Uh huh.
GK: You want agnostics if at all possible. And avoid skinny people.
TR: Fat agnostics.
GK: That's right. No vegetarians. And avoid men.
TR: Fat ladies with grease stains who don't believe in a god.
GK: That's your ideal juror. You get two of those on your jury and there is light at the end of the tunnel.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
TR: Here comes the guard. Time to head over to the courtroom. You ready, pardner?
GK: I guess so. (MUSIC BRIDGE)
(GAVEL RAPS)
TK: Order in the courtroom! ALL RISE! (A RUSTLING AND MURMURING OF CROWD. DOOR OPEN. WOMAN'S FOOTSTEPS, ACROSS FLOOR, UP TWO STEPS, TO CHAIR, AND SIT DOWN.) Court is in session! Case of People vs. Dusty & Lefty! Will the defendants approach the bench!
(TWO PAIRS FOOTSTEPS, SHUFFLING FORWARD)
(PAUSE THREE BEATS. SHUFFLING OF PAPERS)
SS: You two gentlemen are Dusty and Lefty?
TR: Yes, Your Honor.
SS: Are you two gentlemen represented by legal counsel?
GK: We were, but they quit out of discouragement.
SS: You two gentlemen thereby waive the right to counsel?
TR: Yes, Your Honor.
SS: And are you two gentlemen prepared to enter a plea this morning?
GK: Yes, ma'am.
TR: Yes, Your Honor.
SS: You two gentlemen understand the charges against you?
GK: Yes, Your Honor.
TR: Yes'm.
SS: Good. You mind explaining them to me?
TR: Your Honor?
SS: Never mind. And how do you plead this morning? Mr. Dusty?
TR: Innocent, Your Honor.
SS: Mr. Lefty?
GK: Guilty, but sort of accidentally guilty. On account of diminished mental capacity and also poor visibility. It was raining at the time. And I was lonesome and confused.
SS: Mr. Lefty?
GK: Your Honor?
SS: Approach the bench.
GK: Yes, ma'am. (SIX FOOTSTEPS)
SS: (IN LOW VOICE) Listen, cowboy, you understand plain English? you go back there and plead yourself innocent or guilty, and cut out this snivelling and horse hockey about your mental capacity and whatnot ---- your mental capacity is not the issue here---- you understand? ---- anybody can see you got the brains of a box of hammers, but that's not the point--- now, go back there and say "innocent" or "guilty".
GK: But I done what they say we done, except it wasn't like the way they say it was.
SS (IN LOW VOICE): Then say "innocent".
GK: But I wouldn't exactly say I was innocent....I mean, those forty- three hundred head of cattle from the Lazy J, they followed our herd of sixteen head, and the posse came, and we ran, and when they found us, we had a paper sack with ten-thousand dollars in it, but it wasn't as bad as it looks.
SS (IN WHISPER): Can you say "innocent"?
GK: Yes.
SS (IN WHISPER): Then say it.
GK: Innocent.
SS (IN WHISPER): Good. Now go back where you were standing and say it out loud. Excuse me---- (SHE TURNS, HAWKS, SPITS......DISTANT DING). Otherwise, I'll hold you in contempt.
GK: Okay. (SIX STEPS) Innocent.
SS: Trial is in three weeks. Take 'em away.
(FOOTSTEPS)
TR: What did she say to you up there?
GK: Told me she was pretty lonesome and said she thought I was kind of a hunk and asked if I'd like to go to a movie..
TR: She did not!
TK: This way, gentlemen. (FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE. DOOR OPEN, CLOSE) (REVERB IN HALLWAY)
GK: She said she could tell from your shifty expression that you were the criminal type, not me, and that she's going to throw the book at you ----
TK: Turn left down this hall, gentlemen. (FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE)
TR: That's a lie. ----She said that?
GK: She said that her years on the bench had taught her to recognize the tell-tale signs of guilt, and you showed em, but that I was quite innocent looking and obviously had been duped.
TR: Doesn't sound good.
GK: No, it doesn't.
TR: I was sort of getting tired of prison life, but now I guess I better learn to appreciate it.
GK: Looks that way.
TK: (WEAKLY) Ohhhhhh.
GK: What's wrong, officer?
TK: (WEAKLY) I don't know. Just feel a little woozy.
TR: You want to sit down? There's a chair right here.
TK: (WEAKLY) No. I'll be okay. (HE FAINTS AND FALLS DOWN, HEAVILY, CRASHING ON THE CHAIR, KEYS FALLING, GUN)
GK: Is he still breathing, Dusty?
TR: He is. But he's out cold. And he dropped his keys!
GK: And his pistol!
TR: What do we do, pardner?
GK: I don't know. What do you want to do?
TR: We ought to call for help.
GK: Is that what you want to do?
TR: Well, while we decide, what say I (JINGLE OF KEYS) unlock these handcuffs----- (KEY IN LOCK, UNSNAPS) there.....
GK: What if someone comes?
TR: Let me unlock yours. (KEY IN LOCK, JIGGLES, UNSNAPS)
GK: They'll think we slugged him.
TR: They will. And they'll shoot first and ask questions later.
GK: Let's put him in the closet here. (EFFORT OF DRAGGING) Watch his head. Lay him in here under the janitor's sink. Put a mop under his head. There. (CLOSE DOOR)
TR: This is going to look mighty bad.
GK: Assaulting an officer of the law.
TR: They'll think it's an escape attempt.
GK: What should we do, Dusty?
TR: Let's walk that way while we decide.
GK: I hear somebody coming down the hall. .
TR: Let's run that way while we decide. (RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
GK: Down these steps. (RUNNING DOWN STEPS)
TR: Through this door. (DOOR OPEN, CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS, RESUME RUNNING)
GK: Looks like the door to the alley up ahead.
TR: They are sure going to think we're trying to escape, Lefty.
GK: I know it. It scares me. I wouldn't want to be around when they decide it was an escape, I'll tell you that.
TR: This is a big mistake. We shouldn't be running like this. We're innocent! This is making us look bad.
GK: I know we shouldn't. We ought to stop and go back.
TR: So why do we keep running?
GK: Beats me. (STOP RUNNING. OPEN DOOR. DISTANT TRAFFIC, OUTDOORS) Well, looky there.
TR: It's his patrol car. (SLOW FOOTSTEPS, AS IF ON TIPTOE)
GK: The keys are in the ignition.
TR: This is going to look terrible on our record, Lefty. Stealing a police car. That is a definite no-no, pardner.
GK: We come this far, Dusty. One more heinous act hardly matters at this point. Get in. (CAR DOORS OPEN, CLOSE. DEAD AMBIENCE OF CAR INTERIOR)
TR: Assaulting a police officer and running off with his patrol car.
GK: Our picture is going to be prominently displayed in post offices, Dusty.
TR: They'll be showing us on the six o'clock news.
GK: Little children are going to look at us in terror. Young women will gaze upon our features with moral reprehension.
TR: Our mothers will see us on the screen and bow their old grey heads and burst into tears.
GK: Almost makes me cry to think of breaking their hearts like that..
TR: It's a heartbreaker all right. To bring a child into the world and raise him well and then see him turn into a despicable criminal.
GK: We'll have to make it up to them somehow.
TR: Our mothers hoped we would become medical researchers, or educators, or social workers. At worst, become trombonists.
GK: Instead, we steal cattle and money and beat up a police officer.
TR: Of course we didn't actually do any of those things.
GK: No.
TR: But who would believe us now?
GK: Even fat ladies with grease stains would vote to convict us now.
TR: I guess we may as well become desperate fugitives.
GK: Looks that way, pardner. (STARTS CAR) Mind if we put on the siren?
TR: Don't matter much at this point, I guess.
GK: I always wanted to ride in a police car with the siren on.
TR: Who knows when we'll get another opportunity?
GK: Let's go, Dusty. (CAR PULLS AWAY FAST, SIREN. GRADUALLY FADES INTO....)
(THEME)
SS: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS....brought to you by Old Santa Fe Brand Electric Stirrups.....for that boost you need when the saddle starts to get a little bit too high. Lower the stirrup to the ground, step in, and pull the lever. (WINCH, WHINNY) (MUSIC PLAY OFF)
© 1997 Garrison Keillor