Story Go Round 09/20/2009, #3

Dope Hollow

(post-titled by Terry)

The Dopes of Dope Hollow had excavated the front 40 of the minor estate and, failing to find what they were looking for, decided the situation was not exactly dope.

We should dig deeper," declared Mrs. Dope as she fanned herself primly. "It has to be there!"

"You really believe that old coot, don't you?" Mr. Dope sat in his lawn chair, sipping a mojito.

"Excuse me," the first second assistant director snipped from off set; he pointed for an assistant to do his bidding and one appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the anachronistic drink out of the lead's hands and replaced it with a cigar. Another removed the lawn chair out from under him and replaced it with a curtained sedan chair. "Much better," the director said.

The rising star who played Vincent Dope frowned as he struggled to stay in character. Frantic! Frenetic! He coached himself, and paced. Back and forth, back and forth, ever restless – this was who he had to be now. No more Vinnie Esperanza. Not now.

"He's making me dizzy," complained Miss Dope, the dimpled-curly-haired ingenue being introduced to the world in this picture. Already a little diva, Miss Dope complained about everything. She stuck her foot out the next time and Vincent stepped on it. She accused him of sexual harassment.

Slowly the crew got through the scene whereby the Dopes by process of elimination unearthed the buried pirate's chest of opium, a trunk of dope scandalously revealed right at the geometric center of Dope Hollow.

"What are we going to do with all this dope?" Suzie Dope exclaimed, and fainted on cue.

"No, no, no!" screamed the director, "who faints like that? Are you a tree? I want crumpling!"

Suzie burst into tears and flounced off to her trailer.

The producer made straight for the director, a megaphone in one hand, nothing in the other. The Director ducked around one of the big cameras and tried to hide from the producer, but both were only prolonging the inevitable.

A fight – a brawl actually, broke out across the set of downtown Dope Hollow, makeup artists clawing at extras, extras kicking at studio executives, all vying for the best one-liners. The jittering camera caught much of the action and the director decided to incorporate it as a kind of "Reefer Madness" montage, one of his major inspirations.

The next day went more smoothly until it was learned that some of the stage-prop dope had been dipped into.

"I can't do this," cried the production coordinator. "No one can work in conditions like this."

"It's not your fault," said the producer. He shouted, "You have all done very well under the circumstances. None of you is to blame for a movie featuring a family named Dope and lots of actual dope."

"He's right" yelled a grip.

"It's the writer's fault," shouted the head gaffer.

"Bring her out here" the mob demanded, beginning to chant.

Vinnie stood on the Dope Hollow statue of Jebediah Dope, the founding father of this dopy little town, and cried "Brrrring her forth."v When she did not appear, Vinnie stepped down and hissed "She's not here! And do you want to know why? Do you?" Approaching the chest of dope, he thrust his fist into the white powder, seized something, and extracted it. He held high an ancient, yellowed manuscript. On its cover were inscribed in Old English lettering, "Dope Hollow," by Luciana of Dope.

"Behold! This story predates even Shakespeare!" Vincent cried.