Narrator: Our story begins in the dry dusty plains of the Texas panhandle in 1921. The wild wild west was in full swing and homesteads dotted the land where small organic cattle ranches eked out a living among the sage brush and cryptobiotic soil. However, a great spurge was wasting the land – vast oil deposits had recently been discovered in Texas. The oil boom quickly turned into a feeding frenzy of human sharks: scores of speculators, backed by wealthy oil tycoons roamed the land, scamming innocent farmers out of their house and home. These were the days when a good man or wommon’s land and honor meant everything to them. Days when a handshake and a name really meant something.
Day breaks on the plains and two lonely silhouettes move across the reddening horizon – two women on horseback. These travelers are weary, but their faces are set. They are on a mission of vengeance.
Lola: “Clementine, my pony Harold and I are really THURSTON! We need to get some water. We ain’t never goin’ find that son of a gun who stole pappy’s local organic family farm if we don’t survive the day!”
Clementine: “Weeeell, Lola. I can’t even stand to think of that. I think I see some sorta oasis there over past that there HEMPHILL. We KAHN cool our heels at that waterin hole, but not for long. We got a long ride ahead of us yet, don’t we Maude?”
Clementine pats her trusty stead
Narrator: The two cowgirls sidled up to a little pool of shimmering water all strewn about with LILY pads. A small adobe building sat at the far end of the pond. Clementine and Lola swung down from their saddles. Maude whinnied and bucked.
Clementine: “Whoa there girl! Maude is actin’ real edgy. I’m gonna WALK ‘ER ‘round the other side and check out this hut before we get too comfortable”.
Narrator: But just as Clementine moved toward the hut, a wizened old man emerged. He hobbled towards the cowgirls.
Claude: “Howdy! Drink up, you two look parched!”
Claude draws closer and sees their faces
Claude: “A HO! I recognize you! You them two girls they been talkin’ bout up at the saloon. You wanna tell me why your pictures are on the sheriff’s wall?”
All of a sudden, a fluffy white dog shot out of the hut, makin a racket if I ever heard one.
Claude: “SHULTZ up, you ol’ BARKER! Why I outta!”
Narrator: The old man took out a whistle and blew a brief tune. The pup immediately retreated to sit at his master’s heels.
Claude: “Sorry bout that, I don’t mean to frighten ya. That thar was my dog Micheal Jackon, and my name’s Claude, son of Jeremy, who was NATHANSON, who was JOHNSON, who was JA’s SON. He was from POLAND. My Great Great Grandmammy was from HOLLAND. The other side of my family is Comanche Native American. I like to give people a solid understanding of my background.”
Lola: “Hmm. I’m Lola and this here is my sister Clementine.”
Claude: “Well, why don’t we all just have a sit down by the pond and you can tell me all about it. I ain’t gonna bite.”
Narrator: The three sat down AT WATER side in wary silence.
Clementine: “Well, it all started long ago when we was just little babes. Our ol’ pappy, why he was a good LUTHERin man. He never did anyone no harm. We was raised proper, growin organic vegetables and beef on our small, family farm. Until one day, A DAM prospector came a SNIFFEN ‘round our property, tryin to make a BEAL, I mean a deal, with us. He ended up robbin us blind and stole our land for oil drillin’! Our poor pappy never recovered, he just felt so awful for the environment. Two months later he up an’ died of a broken heart.”
Lola: “I been prayin to ST JEAN ever since that we would one day wreak our vengeance upon the man that been the cause of poor pappy’s sufferin. Anyhoo, the prospector got wind that we were after ‘im, and he’s had every sheriff from here to JORDAN put up a warrant for our arrest. ANN, A, that’s ‘bout it.”
Claude: “My my, what a tale. Well, I tell ya, it rings true. ‘Ain’t that much diffeClaudet from what happened to the land of my ancestors a couple miles yonder. Soon’s the oil prospectors came a ‘round, the rights of the REZ VANIshed under the pressure to the man who swindled her land from ‘er is still in town!”
Clementine: “My FOOT! ER, you don’t suppose it could be the same man, could it? The only thing we know about the man we’re lookin’ for is his favorite color.”
Claude: “Well I am sure of it. Ain’t no speculator as evil as that man. Goes by the name Pietro, and he’s fixin to set up an oil rig on my sister’s property within the fortnight!”
Lola: “We’ve got to stop him! I want to RUSH on up to town right now!
Claude: “Hold yer horses there Lola, it’s getting late! Why don’t you two bunk down here tonight and we’ll discuss our plans. Pietro goes to the local saloon every noontime for a cold one, so we’re sure to find him there tomorrow. In the mean time, AR THUR any takers for some S’mores?”
Narrator: The three whispered into the wee hours of the night, planning their vengeance ‘round a little fire by the pond.
In the morning, the girls rose from their sleeping pads, stiff and cold, but ready for action. Claude came out of the house with a platter of muffins and a steaming pitcher.
Claude: “Good DAI! BER! It sure is a chilly one, ain’t it?”
Lola: “S’all right, this cowperson coffee is PERKINS us right up.”
Narrator: The three wolfed their breakfast and before you could say “ALEXANDER-OZINSKAS”, they had hopped on their steeds and set out for town in search of Pietro. They rode through canyons and brush, hills and dales. They were rounding a bend, when all of a sudden….a STAMMEL of steers came a roarin ‘round the bend, headed straight at the trio of friends!
Lola: “Jeezum Crow, they must have escaped from an abandoned ranch and now they’re gonna trample us!”
Clementine: “Oy! We gotta run these OX HOME!”
Claude: “Don’t worry, I got it!”
Narrator: With that, Claude pulled out his whistle and began to play. The wild cattle immediately slowed, trotted to a standstill a few feet from the three, and stared adoringly at Claude.
Claude: “Heh, there! They used to call me the Pied Piper of Hamlin back in the day, you know.”
Lola: “Wow, how’d you make that thar whistle?”
Claude: “You WHITTLE, SEY?
Narrator: The three started off towards town again, cattle herd in tow. They finally arrived on the outskirts of town at five to noon. They hitched their horses up to the post outside of the saloon and pushed through the swinging doors, ready for a fight.
Clementine: “Ouch! My TAO!”
Lola: “What’s wrong with your FOOT? ER, you got a pebble in your shoe?”
Clementine: “NO, AH STONE.”
Claude: “Hush up you two, we got work to do! Well, let’s see here… there’s GRIGGSBY ‘n ROCCA, the blackSMITHs, sittin at the saloon…
Lola: “And which one is Pietro?”
Claude: “That BALD WIN, o’er there, drinkin’ the MILLER!”
Narrator: Clementine strode straight up to the well-dressed gentleman.
Clementine: “Sir, what is your favorite color?
Pietro: “RED, MAN, what’s to you?”
Clementine advances slowly, her rusty knife aimed straight at Pietro’s heart.
Clementine: “Sir, my name is Clementine Montoyo. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”
Narrator: But Lola took a more active approach.
Lola: “DI PIETRO!”
Narrator: She screamed, AN DREWS her pistol, opening fire on the whole dern saloon. Pietro jumped up from his stool and over the bar counter, narrowly avoiding the zinging bullets. Lola’s pistol quickly ran out of ammo.
Clementine was startled by this sudden commotion, and wasn’t immediately ready to join the frey, but Claude WAS, NY CHUCKed a stink bomb behind the counter to flush Pietro out. Pietro emerged from the smoke with his hands up, looking frightened but resigned.
Pietro: “You two sure are the craziest broods in the WEST! Don’t you know that violence is never the answer? How’d you find me anyhow?”
Clementine: “We followed your scent, that’s how!”
Pietro: “What? I DEANE-KRANTZ my pants if that’s what you’re thinking!”
Clementine: “No, no, the smell of dirty money! You stole my pappy’s land and we’re out for vengeance.”
Pietro: “I ain’t done nothing you wouldn’t do in my place. I needed some financial AID, AN ain’t no other way I could think to do it!”
Lola: “But you’re contributing to climate change when you burn oil! The problem is that dang TAR! DIFfent things can make just as much money, don’t you know?! Like Solar Panel Purchase Agreements, or wind energy! You can make loads of money and help people be more GENTILE on the environment too!”
Pietro: “OOOOHHH. That’s incredible. Why, I remember when I was a lad, Mr. ROGERs would sing about things like that. That was a good time in my life. I am beginning to see your point… You know, I feel terrible about what I’ve done. Besides, IR, WIN you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! My oil drillin days have come to an end, I’m movin to the city to start a renewable energy company. I hereby grant you ownership of your family lands.”
Lola, Clementine and Claude: “Yeee Haaaww!
Narrator: At that moment, a dark bird darted through a window, landed on a rafter, and krantzed on Claude’s hat.
Claude: “Egad! What in tarnashun is that?!”
Clementine: “Why that’s a blaC LARK, it’s an omen of ecological harmony!’
Lola: “Well, it SEMMES to me that our work here is done.”
Claude: “ME GHAN go down to the Reservation and tell my sister what happened!”
Clementine: “ME GAN go back to claim our family land!”
Lola: “Yeah, we have to get our lives in order. I’ll run the organic ranch co-op with the cattle we gathered, if you two go back to school and learn some grammar!”
Pietro: “Well, the CAB OT to come pick me up any minute to head into the city, but first we should make a toast!”
Claude: “Everyone, gather ‘round, AND REAS your glasses. To sustainability and SEMESTER 45!!!”
