(WESTERN THEME)

SS:THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS. . .brought to you by Wild Bill Skin Moisturizer.....after a long week on the dusty trail, why not restore your youthful glamor with Wild Bill Skin Moisturizer ---- and now here's THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS.....

(BAR AMBIENCE)

GK: Lost Hombre Saloon ---- not the most festive name for a saloon, is it---- odd to find it in a town called Euphoria. Euphoria, Kansas.

TR: Well, whiskey is whiskey, pardner. That's what I'm here for, not literary allusions. Hey barkeep-----

SS: Yeah. What you want, cowboy?

TR: Gimme a beer.

SS: Okay---- you want our local artisan beer on tap or you want a bottle of this generic stuff that tastes like horse urine?

TR: Guess I'll go for the artisan----

SS: Okay. One glass of Wistful Vistas coming up----

TR: Wistful what?

SS: Wistful Vistas-----

TR: Okay. Skip that. Glass of rotgut whiskey.

SS: And you?

GK: Sarsaparilla.

SS: Coming right up.

GK: What happened to the piano player? He on break?

SS: On strike, in sympathy with the dance hall floozies.

GK: They're on strike?

SS: Yeah. Amalgamated Floozy Local No. 23, been out since September. The girls want to be hired on the basis of seniority and management wants to hire them out on the basis of juniority.

GK: Well, that's a tough one.

DR: Excuse me, mister. How come you're not drinking whiskey like your pardner?

GK: How come you're interested, mister?

DR: I'm a reporter for the paper, the Euphoria Bugle. You're the first root-beer drinker I've seen in town and I've lived here 27 years.

GK: Uh huh. Well, let me ask you this: how come they named the town Euphoria?

DR: Gave them a sense of hope, I guess.

GK: Guess so. Reason I don't drink is that life on the trail is hard enough ---- it makes you desperately lonely and at the same time profoundly unattractive. That's enough cruel irony without adding utter stupidity to the mix. Right?

DR: You mind if I quote you?

GK: Go right ahead. How often does the paper come out?

DR: Monthly.

GK: Fine. I'll be long gone by then.

DR: Where you headed?

GK: San Antonio. Beautiful town on the San Antonio River.

DR: What's going on there?

GK: Life. It's a town where people know how to live. Not like here where you have to struggle and scratch for every thing you need. (FN SHOUTING OUTSIDE) What in the world is that? Sounds like a prison break.

DR: Sounds like Desolation Dan----

GK: Who's he? (CRUNCH OF DOOR BEING BUSTED OPEN, FN SHOUTING)

FN: OKAY, ALL YOU SPOOKS AND PANTYWAISTS ---- LISSEN UP CAUSE THIS IS ME AND I CAN WHIP ANY ONE OF YOU CAKE-EATERS AND ENGLISH MAJORS IN THIS SALOON ---- I'LL TAKE YOU ON ONE AT A TIME OR ALL AT ONCE ---- YOUR CHOICE ---- YOU TANGLE WITH ME AND YOU ARE ABOUT TO ENTER A WORLD OF PAIN---- hey you----

GK: Who?

FN: You.

GK: What?

FN: I don't like how you're staring at me.

GK: You'd rather I ignored you?

FN: I don't like your attitude. You're not from here, are you. You got that Not From Here Attitude that I don't like.

SS: Easy, Dan. Let's not start something now---- what can I get you?

FN: Something's already started, Gloria. What's that he's drinking?

SS: That is a sarsaparilla.

FN: A what???? A SISSIFIED SARSAPARILLA???? WHY NOT SERVE HIM SOME CINNAMON STRUDEL AND SUGAR COOKIES ALONG WITH IT???

(MURMURS AND WHISPERS)

GK: A fellow who drinks a root beer

Is no one at whom you should sneer.

Many a guerilla

Enjoys sarsaparilla

And you're looking at one standing here.

FN: AHA. A LIMERICIST. I TAKE THAT AS A CHALLENGE, SIR.

GK: Challenge accepted, sir.

FN: Give me a double whiskey, Gloria.

TR: Easy, Lefty. Maybe we oughta leave.

FN: Okay, here's the rules. The dirtiest limerick wins. None of your lilac-scented pantywaist limericks. We want filth and degradation. PIANO PLAYER!!!!????? -----(MURMURS) I SAID, PIANO PLAYER!!!!???? (TWO GUNSHOTS) (FOOTSTEPS IN)

RD: Right here, Dan. What you want?

FN: Want you to accompany this here Limerick Showdown between me and this so-called cowboy who I bet you anything is wearing boxer shorts with lilacs on 'em---- ain't ya. Give me some piano.

(CHORD)

FN (SINGS):

There was a young girl from St. Paul

Wore a newspaper dress to the ball

The dress caught on fire

And burned her entire

Front page, sporting section and all.

(APPRECIATIVE CROWD) Beat that, if you can.

GK (SINGS):

On the chest of a barmaid named Gail

Were tattooed the prices of ale

And on her behind

For the sake of the blind

Was the same information in Braille.

(APPRECIATIVE CROWD)

FN: HA. I am just getting warmed up. (SINGS)

A Salvation lassie named Claire

Was having her first love affair.

As she climbed into bed,

She reverently said:

'O please let us open with prayer.'

(CROWD)

GK: You forgot to say what the prize for the winner is, Mister. And who is the judge?

SS: THIS IS MY SALOON AND I AM THE JUDGE AND THE PRIZE IS A BOTTLE OF ROTGUT CHAMPAGNE.

FN: OKAY. BRING IT ON.

GK (SINGS):

There once was a man from Cape Horn

Who wished that he'd never been born.

He wouldn't have been

If his mother's best friend

Had seen that the condom was torn!

(CROWD)

FN: HA! (SINGS)

On the internet they found romance,

That put them both into a trance,

But each had a gripe,

About having to type,

While trying to unzip their pants.

(CROWD STUNNED)

GK (SINGS):

There once was a couple named Kelly

Who were found lying belly to belly

Because in their haste

They used library paste

Instead of petroleum jelly.

SS: THE WINNER IS----- (PIANO ROLL) ---- THE COWBOY LEFTY!

FN: WHAT? YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING. (GUNSHOTS)

SS: AND THE CHAMPAGNE GOES TO YOU, DAN. HOLD STILL. (SHE SWINGS, CRASH OF GLASS, FN STUNNED, FALLS)

DR: Better saddle up and ride, Lefty. Nice meeting you.

TR: Come on, pardner. Let's head for Texas.

GK: Good luck, reporter man. Let's go, Dusty. (GIDDUPS, HORSE WHINNIES, TROTTING HOOVES) (BRIDGE, INTO NIGHT SOUNDS) Well, we put Euphoria behind us now. (GUITAR CHORD) San Antonio, here we come. (HE SINGS)

Wandering the prairie with the vagrants,

Keeping one eye open for the law

Then I got a whiff of lady fragrance

And I found you in Euphoria

Moonlight on the pastures of Euphoria

How I wish I honeymooned with you

In the bridal suite at the Astoria

With Gloria, it is a dream come true.

We were to wed when the corn was picked, you said,

And then you rode away on Old Paint

When it's moonlight, how I miss you, Gloria,

I wish that there were more o' ya, but there ain't.

Yodeladiadihoo.

TR (SNORING)

(THEME)

SS: THE LIVES OF THE COWBOYS....brought to you by Lazy Eight blue jeans, they're extra wide in the rear. (MUSIC OUT)