This Is The Race [homage to Jim Morrison]

Your money's no good here. 
(With referential apologies to James Douglas Morrison, Francis Ford Coppola, and Don Knotts)

Black, fade in.
Night, in Wrightwood.

A young man is in a cheap motel. It is a motel favored by thrifty serial killers on a budget. The higher-priced motel favored by thrifty serial killers on a budget was booked. Solid. Even with the broken glass on the linoleum, somewhere. The cable there was better (but it cost $7.99 more), and you could get the Satanism Channel with the "I Love Lucifer" Marathon Weekend Special ($6.66). This motel had weary wooden floors, 33-1/3 watt lights, a sagging bed with the Great Rift Valley down the middle. Many romances had died in that divide. He could feel every one of them.

Our young man is getting ready. Ready for The Big Race. His attention is fixed on a goal far away. About 100.559596975 miles, but who's counting now, huh?...Familiar music is in background, becoming distinct. The words have changed. Do not pretend you don't remember. We come into the song somewhere in the middle, we don't have all night...but he will. We've all
been there...


"...The Runner awoke before dawn,
He put his shoes on.
He took some shorts from the ancient drop bag
And he walked on down the hall...
And he came to a door
And He looked Inside
"Yeah man?
"I gotta pee now..."
"I GOTTA (Apocalyptic SFX here) COME ON BABY......

(SFX: bumping, thrashing, man wrestling fire hose kinda thing)

Segue to:

(SFX: Water gurgling)
A guy is playing a sinuous melody line on an organ several rooms away. The fan windmills slowly overhead. Headlights from a passing car throws a pattern of venetian blinds in the room, a rickshaw passes by on the way down to Victorville. A medevac chopper is heard in the distance...)

"This is the race,
My only race, the race.
This is the race,
My only race, the race.
For every drink I've tried, the pace,
For all my batteries fried, your face,
No drop-bags I've not tried, the race,
I'll never look PowerBars in the eye,
Again, my friend...



marisol said…
Brilliant, just what I needed on route to wrightwood, thanks Larry, keep rockin'!

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