Dragon Eye, PI

(Dropping out of character to bring you some fun)

As I've noted in my other blogs, I'm novelizing Magic, Mensa and Mayhem. I have a publisher interested and promised the manuscript in July. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, I've written a very funny scene, in which Vern takes a nap in the Mundane Florida Everglades. Little did he know that "Gator Louie," a Deep South twist on Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin, was filming a special on the endangered species of the area that day. He comes upon Vern, who's deeply hidden in the rushes, so he only sees the snout. After some discussion, which Vern overhears, they decide to film him. Vern, of course, decides to take this chance to play a practical joke on a human.

I read it to my husband, who liked it, but thought the scene could go differently--and proceeded to have me rolling with his re-write. Let's face it: "Gator Louie Meets a Dragon" has real potential. Don't you hear him already? "Get out your asbestos underwear. danger, danger!"

I want to hear your story!

Below is the scene as I wrote it and Rob's suggestion. I'll include my e-mail address on the bottom. Write your own scene and send it to me. rules:

--150 words or less

--Take it from where the cameras start rolling.

--Keep it clean and in character. Remember this is Gator Louie, a Florida native who does an outragious Deep South stereotype for purposes of the show, not Steve Irwin.

--No dragons are hurt and no humans eaten, flames, or scarred (except perhaps psychologiaclly.)

I'll try to talk the publisher into printing the best ones as an appendix, "<em>Gator Louie</em> Outtakes," and I'll post them all in Vern's blog.

Send it as part of the body of the e-mail to karina(at)fabianspace(dot)com. Put "Gator Lou" in th subject line.

******My Version******

 

Janey showed me a map of the everglades and I found it with no trouble. It was a little damp for my tastes, but in the heat of the afternoon, the tepid water felt refreshing, and after scaring off anything stupid enough to get in my way, I settled down among the reeds for a snooze. I did devote part of my attention to keeping tabs on my environment, however. Mundane fauna didn’t recognize dragons as a natural predator.  My size might deter most of them, but I didn’t want to take a chance on some alligator or puma with delusions of grandeur thinking I’d make a nice lunch.

Of course that also meant that half an hour into a very nice nap, I became aware of humans talking. Two of them had mouths so foul that if they’d been on television, the conversation would have sounded like this:

“Whoa! What the (bleep) is that?”

“(Bleep) if I know. (bleep) (bleep). Let’s (bleeping) stay the (bleep) away from the (bleeping) thing. (bleep!)”

“Like (bleep). I want a closer look.”

“(Bleep) that. It looks (bleeping) dangerous. I’m staying (bleeping) far away, (bleep/personal insult).”

“You (bleeping) coward. I’m the (bleep) one who’s gonna get (bleeping) close to the (bleeping) thing. You just keep the (bleeping) camera rolling.”

Obviously not a tourist group; maybe some natives out for thrills.  I stayed still and feigned sleep. I was going to give them the thrill of their lives.

 

(You take it from here.)

 

I almost blew it, though, then someone said, “Action!” and PottyMouth screached out, “Sheeeew-Dang! Can you see that big ol’snout hidin’ in them thar bushes? I’m tellin’ you, chil’, I ain’t neva seen no gator that size or cullur before.”

Big snout? Me? Now he was asking for it.

“Look at them teeth. I swe-ahr, they’s the size of my bowie, they is.  Jes look.” I heard something snap and a friction sound like a large knife against a plastic case. I waited for him to try to lay his knife near my canines, but he didn’t approach, and I guessed the camera was doing a close-up. At least this time they’d get my better side. I wondered who these jokers were.

I heard him put the knife back in its sheath, and he said, “Yessir! This here critter ain’t like no critter I’d ever seen. We may’ve jes found usselves a new species.  You know the Everglades is home to twenty threatened species and fifteen endangered, including the Day-Lee-own sable sparrow and the south Florida American speckle-headed turtle. She-oot, we ain’t got no turtle here, do we? Let’s see if’n we can get ar-selves a closer look.”

I waited while he snuck up close, muttering reassurances and facts to me and the camera audience, then as I heard the tendons in his knees creak as he knelt, I opened my eyes and said, “Shee-ooot! That thar accent is thicker than cold pea soup!”

Somedays, it’s gratifying to hear the screams.

******Rob's Outtake 1******

Louie (stage whisper): We’ve got to move quiet as a tick on a nervous hound dawg at a scratchin’ meet. That thar’s a North African Faerie Wyvern—and ain’t he a beaute? Now, most dragon wranglers wouldn’t get within a country mile without az-pes-tes underwear, but I knows how to handle dese critters. My pappy taught me tricks that work on a gator that’ll work on any critter with scales. I’ll jes give him a good ol’belly rubbing and he’ll roll on over and—

Vern:  Do. You. Mind?

Louie jumps back cursing and screaming

 

******Karina's Outtake 1******

 

Louie: Well, she-oot! This here’s our lucky day! We dun stumbled upon a North African Faerie Wyvern—that’s a dragon to you and me. Now you might think I’d be needing some fireproofin’, but dang if I didn’t leave it at the shack. Don’t you worry yer little heads; I knows what I’m doing. Don’t you ever try this, though. Da-an-ger! We’re gonna move in real slow and easy—

Vern: Do I interrupt your bath?

Louie jumps back cussing.