(WESTERN THEME)
Sue Scott: The Lives of the Cowboys....brought to you by Grand Tetons Meat Tenderizer...add it to muskrat, badger, possum, or skunk and it makes every meat taste just like chicken...And now...the Lives of the Cowboys.
(EVENING OUTDOOR AMBIENCE, CATTLE, HORSES)
Garrison Keillor: Well, it was not a bad Thanksgiving, Dusty. All told. The turkey was a mite overdone but that was on account of the whiskey in the stuffing caught on fire. And the sweet potatoes didn't taste as good as they should've after you shot 'em.
Tim Russell: I didn't have a masher so that seemed like the easy way--
GK: Well, anyway, it wasn't bad. Of course it would've been more pleasant with some female company, but you can't have everything. (PICKS UP HIS GUITAR. STRUMS. ONE FLAT STRING. HE TUNES.)
TR: What are you doing?
GK: Just playing a song.
TR: I was starting to get in a thankful mood and now--
GK: (SINGS)
You're the sage in my turkey,
You're my bird cordon bleu
You will always be my Thanksgiving Day,
I'd be lost without you.
Some men are cautious
When cooking squashes,
But I toss in sauces,
And you're my Worcestershire, dear.
You're the spice on my pumpkin
You're the thrill when I chew
You will always be my Thanksgiving Day,
I'd be lost without you.
I've got to say, dear,
I've lost my way, dear,
Don't need an -ism,
Need a trail and you're my Chisholm.
TR: So what are you thankful for, Lefty?
GK: Me? Thankful for my old guitar.
TR: Other than instruments of torture, what are you grateful for?
GK: Thankful for the chance to live the cowboy life, I guess. Be a straight-shooter and live clean and do what's right and stand up for the honor of women and fight for justice and the American way.
(HORSE GALLOPING, APPROACHING) (SS WHOAS, HORSE STOPS, WHINNY. SHE DISMOUNTS. FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
SS: Howdy, Mister-- the name is Flora and I was just riding by on my way to Salt Lake when I heard your voice carried on the wind -- what you said about doing what's right -- and the honor of women--
TR: You heard that out there on the trail--
SS: The wind does strange things sometimes. I heard every word you said.
GK: Well, come on and have a seat by the campfire, ma'am. What line of work are you in, if I may ask?
SS: Well, I have been a dancehall floozy for approximately twelve years. I've been floozing since I was eighteen. Mostly I've floozed in the Southwest, but also in Wyoming and parts of Nebraska.
TR: I see by your outfit that you are a floozy. The bright red silk camisole and the black net stockings--not to mention the plunging neckline.
SS: I was a floozy but I ain't anymore, on account of the poor health benefits and so your fine words about living clean and doing what's right meant all the more to me, mister.
GK: I used to be tempted by handsome young height-weight appropriate women like yourself but they only drove me wild and made me do things I never woulda done in a calm reflective moment such as the time in Cheyenne I found myself naked in the snow and so I gave up the sin of concupiscence and I have felt better about myself ever since.
TR: He is only speaking for himself, ma'am. Some of us keep an open mind on concupiscence. We take it up on a case by case basis.
SS: What does "concupiscence" mean?
TR: It means a lot of different things.
GK: It means the sins of the flesh, ma'am.
TR: I prefer to use the term "experiences of the flesh".
GK: Speaking of flesh, you wouldn't happen to be hungry, would you?
SS: Starving.
GK: Got a nice piece of roast beef here I could fry up for you.
SS: I don't know. I'm worried about mad cow disease.
TR: All these cows've been through security, ma'am. We made 'em take their shoes off and we X-rayed em.
SS: I feel so safe being here with you.
TR: I wouldn't, if I were you.
GK: She's talking to me.
TR: Well, I just wanted to be clear about it.
GK: Dusty, don't go asking for trouble.
TR: This is the kind of trouble I been looking for.
GK: All you're going to do is wind up making promises that you can't keep.
TR: That's what love is, Lefty.
GK: It can only make you crazy.
TR: I wouldn't mind a little craziness. For the contrast, don't you know.
GK: Go get the lady a cup of coffee, Dusty.
SS: Black coffee. No cream or sugar.
TR (FADING): Good. We don't have any anyway.
GK: He's a good man, Dusty. It's too bad about his health, but--
SS: What's wrong with him?
GK: I shouldn't be telling anybody about it, but he has SIDNEY. Sudden Instant Death Not Explainable Yet.
SS: Oh my gosh.
GK: He could go at any minute.
SS: Is it contagious?
GK: They say it can be transmitted by skin contact.
SS: Oh my gosh.
GK: The least excitement could kill him. That's what doctors say. That's why I have him out here on the lonesome plains. To keep him away from women.
SS: Maybe I should be moving along.
GK: Maybe you should.
(THEME)
SS: Join us again soon for.... The Lives of the Cowboys....brought to you by Santa Anna Antacid....if bad food and rotgut whiskey is affecting your digestion, just drop two Santa Anna Antacid tablets (TWO LITTLE SPLASHES, FIZZ) in the whiskey and see if that don't help. Also cures bloat and cracked udders. (MOO)
(THEME OUT)