By Jack Cawthon 2017|
I was sitting in the Over Easy Inn in Big Puf having an over easy coffee when Laser
Pratlow came barging through the door. The patrons behind me slowly slid into invisible
shadows like they do in the old westerns when a shoot-out is evident in the local saloon.
Laser had been in a heap of trouble a few years back after he had shot the Reverend Les
Pedeza's revival tent full of holes over on Little Wheeze Crick. It occurred during a
meeting when a capacity crowd filled the tent.
Laser claimed he had caught Pedeza
attempting to convert "his woman" in his conversion van. Voy Dire, noted local attorney,
had won an acquittal for Laser, declaring "temporary insanity." A few years later Voy
would lose his law license for permanent insanity, but Laser always claimed he brought
more people to the Lord that night than Pedeza had in all his years in the ministry as
everyone was praying not to be shot.
I sat there sipping my coffee as Laser approached, figuring that I had two options. One, I
had already outlived my life expectancy as determined by insurance and government
Two, if I were killed the Herald would have a major scoop as no other news
source covers Big Puf, including the Charleston Gazette, treating the place as if it never
existed. I also figured that Bob Weaver might run a memorial in my name to raise money
to keep the Herald going, as all of my old columns have not been rerun yet. Ah, the price
But Laser sauntered over, stuck out his hand, and said he had hoped to run into a fake
news reporter. I assured him that he couldn't have found a better one as I had served
years on the government Payroll issuing "press releases" and you couldn't get more faker
He said he had been watching TV and had seen a woman, Kellyanne he thought was her
name, talking to all those fake news reporters about how one could have their own
realities, "alternator realities" sounded like to him and he wanted to have some of those
and he wondered if Trumpcare would provide them.
When he mentioned Kellyanne my aged heart began to beat wildly. She is the Trumpett
who was for some time a spokesperson for the president and she talked and talked so
I never understood what it was she was saying and neither did those fake news
reporters as they all looked bewildered, but she said it so good! Yes, at my age shame of
shame, I was smitten by Kellyanne.
I know a man has to be careful nowadays how he
evaluates a woman's assets, but I was just overwhelmed by Kellyanne not only with her
speech, but, blush, all of her as I am certain Fox news reporters were also.
But, alas, Kellyanne seems to be out of the limelight. I can only assume she has entered
another reality along with the president and Congress as each daily seems to bear out the,
well, a choice of reality of the moment.
Laser suddenly brought me back to an alternate realty: could I advise him how to go
about making selections of reality?
I told him that this was one of the issues that needed
to be ironed out in Trumpcare and that it looked as if Congress, allow practicing it,
hadn't yet figured how to distribute it. He said he hoped it could be provided soon as he
was needing to find a new one after his field crop of herbal plants had been confiscated
by law enforcement.
I told him not to worry that it was all like smoke in the wind and it
sounded like he had found a form of reality that might even be beneficial in usage to both
the president and Congress as it couldn't be worse than the reality they are now both
He looked at me funny and said I was beginning to sound like Kellyanne. I thanked him,
but told him I would never have her other credentials. As Laser shook hands with me,
others patrons were beginning to emerge.
As Homer Bob brought me another cup of
coffee I pondered how Bob Weaver might raise money for the Herald now that I had
survived another life threatening adventure in Big Puf. If he stages a fund raiser for the
Herald, please contribute as I have selected a reality that I might become a writer
It's only a matter of time...and reality.