WHEEL!!!!!!!!!!! OF!!!!!!!!!!!!! FORTUNE!!!!!
That’s right, gang, Pat Sajak and Vanna White have invaded Milford High School Gymnasium to promote the famous game show. And what better way for WOF to nurture a grass-roots feel than to invite Milford’s own to be contestants? Once a Mudlark, always a Mudlark, even if they have to spin a gigantic wheel to win thousands of dollars/vacations to The Bahamas/consolation prizes to prove it. The screening process turned up 3 worthy contestants, Marty Moon, Mimi Thorp and Vince Packard, and this should be interesting, given all that Marty has endured. C’mon, gang, Marty can’t be crying in his beer at the Milford Lounge forever and does anybody honestly picture him next to Humphrey Bogart at the Boulevard of Broken Dreams? Didn’t think so. I wouldn’t even paint him in that portrait with those dogs playing poker that gets sold on a roadside stand somewhere. Marty puffing away on a Muriel cigar next to some ruffian boxer who’s also smokin’ a stogie? Marty better have a winning hand.
Especially when we’re still attempting to dig ourselves out of this plot via the-parking-lot-aka-bargaining-table method. Hey, I guess NAFTA, SALT II, and the Yalta Conference (“Sure, Josef, you can have Czechoslovakia if we can take Austria. Oh, damn, I lost the keys to my Ford Explorer. No problem, I have a spare in my briefcase.”) were discussed in the asphalt jungles of your nearest soon-to-make-history-in-encyclopedias-everywhere city, so why not Puerto Rico and/or the fate of Marty’s radio career? And why not the asphalt jungle of Milford?
Before Gil and The Dove, with HOR-hay as an Official Witness, sign ANY agreement (Marty Moon’s broadcasting career realigned in exchange for world peace, I’d say that’s fair), let’s NOT KID OURSELVES as Gil and Mimi are doing in P3. As they walk down the streets of perhaps the Business District of Milford, after intense negotiations in the asphalt jungle (we’re talking Milford, I understand, but work with me), they apparently need to be reminded of the raison d’etre of WDIG. The station isn’t throwing a lifeline to a fellow shark because WDIG is compassionate to a JAWS who forgot how to swim. Peace, Love, and Happiness is for the ’60’s, concepts that don’t apply to a muckraking operation that is ‘DIG. Unless Peace, etc. is subordinate TO the profit ledger. Then Flowers in your Hair is OK as long as the utilities in the building are paid. PEACE and PROFITS walking hand-in-hand, Gil? Did you ever see JAWS and Lassie walk down the aisle of a chapel to exchange wedding vows (…’til death do you part?” “I do.”)?
Therefore, if anybody’s been dying to know what Marty’s been up to when he’s not feeling sorry for himself, I mean, okay, so nobody’s losing sleep over this one but, hell, I’M DYING TO KNOW, how’s that? You think I like Gil in a parking lot doing a sting operation with The Dove and Jorge CONCERNING MARTY??? Surely Marty kept himself busy. Actually, believe it or not, he did.
“So, Marty, tell us a little about yourself.”
“I’m a DJ and sports announcer for a radio station. I do play-by-play for high school sports.”
“Wow. That’s interesting. There’s an ugly rumor you got suspended?”
“Totally false. I have been on the job for 60 years and only called in once. My jeep broke down out in the woods and my CB player was on the frizz and I forgot my CB handle. A farmer in a nearby soybean field gave me a lift on his combine and I eventually made it back to Milford.”
“Good deal!!!!!! BTW, what is your CB handle?”
“It’s an original. Just call me ‘Dead Flowers'”
(Awkward pause)
“Well, Vanna, when we take a tour of the town after the show, don’t forget to put roses on HIS grave. Oh, you’re still alive(nervous laughter from the audience, Vanna impatient to turn the letters. It’s a Phrase). Marty, why don’t you get us started and spin the wheel?”
TH– —T R—– —K-
“200 dollars.”
“Is there a ‘Z’?”
“I’m sorry, Mimi, there’s no ‘Z’. Vince, it’s your turn.”
Sppppiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
“Wow, big money, 800 dollars.”
“Is there a ‘C’?”
“YES!!!!!! There IS a ‘C’. If Vanna will get her ass over there, okay, that’s better. We only have a 1/2 hour in this gym.”
TH– —T R—– –CK-
“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”
“Sure.”
“THEY SHOT RIBALD COCKS.”
“Nope, I’m sorry, that is incorrect. Marty, back to you.”
If ya lost that vacation to Acapulco, complete with dancing senoritas that sing like Speedy Gonzales and hotels that cost the GNP of Guatemala with beaches so pristine that you CAN drink the water, because ya lost on “Wheel of Fortune” because ya forgot there’s a ‘C’ in MEXICAN REDNECK, ya might be a redneck.
Gang, I’m a Classic Rock junkie but I have a special addiction for my Rolling Stones. From the album “Sticky Fingers”(the one that shows Coach T.’s crotch shot once you unzip it) comes a song that sums up the relationship between Marty and Ernie. As Ralph Kramden once said to Norton, awaaaaaayyyyyy we go
While you’re sitting there
In your silk-upholstered chair
Broadcasting live for WDIG
I hope you won’t see me
In my ragged company
The parrot done left me in abject poverty
Take me down, Little Ernie
Take me down
I know you think you’re the king of
the high school grounds
And you can send me dead flowers
When I am fired
Send me dead flowers on the radio waves Send me dead flowers
When I retire
And I’ll never forget to put roses on
your graaaaavvveee.
Well, while you’re sitting back
In your rose-pink Cadillac
Calling the game on Milford Playdown
dayyyyyyyssssss
I’ll be at the Milford Lounge
With a needle that I scrounged
And a Natural Lite to take my pain
awaaaaayyyyyyyy
Take me down, Little Ernie
Take me down
I know you think you’re the king when
I’m not around
And you can send me dead flowers when I’m buried
Send me dead flowers on the radio waves
Send me dead flowers when I’m married
And I’ll never forget to put this plot into the grraaaaaaaaaavvvvvvve.
TH– —T R—-Y –CK-
Sppppiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnn
“500 dollars”
“I’d like to buy a vowel.”
“Go right ahead.”
“Is there an ‘E’?”
“YESSS!!!!!! There is one ‘E’. Vanna is there to get it turned around.”
TH– —T RE—Y –CK-
“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”
“I’m with you. Solve it.”
“THE BLOB REALLY ROCKS.”
“Uh, no, Mimi, you might wanna check the board again on that one. Vince, over to you.”
“Hi, this is Coach Steve Boone, speaking on behalf of Milford Gentleman’s Club. Practice can get real intense and the plot, as you can see, can be pointless. Sometimes I have to work overtime, with basketball overlapping into Opening Day of my beloved Cubs. That’s why I love the lap dances of Milford’s finest ladies. They help me unwind and forget about the game films Coach is incessantly showing. I’m a Cameo Coach, not Dick Vitale. But rather than lose my job and say “Freeze it, Gil!!!!!”, I turn to the hottest acts in Mudlarkland with ladies like Annie Aardvark cha-chaing on stage, twirling her son’s coxcomb to “Don’t Leave Me This Way” or Penelope Pearl proving age is just a state of mind, gettin’ it on to “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” How she boogies and keeps her beehive is a club secret. While you’re scratchin’ your noggin over that one, check out the club’s 1/2 price daiquiris from 7-9 PM every night. I’m thirsty already. And you’ll also be hungry for love and get it satisfied at the place that’s literally hoppin’ for your business. Come check out the ladies at the Milford Gentleman’s Club and as a bonus catch Hellfire Heather lap dance the owner while twirling a football. Just call her the Meadowlark Lemon of the Gentleman’s Club. She never fumbles!!!!!! Us Cameo Coaches taught her well. And if you poop out from the ladies like Hellfire, and who doesn’t occasionally, there’s wide-screen TV’s all around the club. It’s nice to know that when Gil can act out of character and be a donkey about the Veer offense or a generic play like the double out right, split formation, halfback wishbone option left, single screen off the right tackle, that I can flush that down the toilet and go watch my beloved Cubs. They have toilet paper too, 2-ply jumbo rolls at that, in case you’re wondering. But don’t take my word for it, come on down to the one place exclusively for men where playmates are not restricted to the basketball court and their uniforms really give you a reason to cheer on the team.”
TH-S —T RE—Y S-CKS
Spppppppiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnn
“Hey, ALL RIGHT!!!!!!!! You landed on ‘Win a Trip to Mudlark Lake Resort'”.
“Is there an ‘L’?”
“YESSS!!!!!!!!! THERE ARE THREE OF THEM!!!!!!!!! If Vanna will get there in time. That’s what happens when they only pay minimum wage. And LUCKY YOU!!!!!! I hope you have a special someone in mind.”
TH-S -L-T RE-LLY S-CKS
“Peaches, if you’re watching this, I’m willing to kiss and make up.”
“And Peaches, whoever you are, if you can rescue Marty from the Milford Lounge and land him to safety at this resort, you deserve this trip. Just don’t take the Titanic to get there(audience laughter, Marty shooting daggers at Pat). All right, Marty, what do you wanna do?”
“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”
“Why not?”
“THIS BLOT REALLY SOCKS!!!!!!!!!”
“Noooooooo, I’m sorry, Marty. Mimi, it’s your turn, spin the wheel.”
Spiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnn
“Oooooohhhhhh, just passed that ‘Bankrupt’ sign. Lay it on me, Mimi.”
“Is there a ‘P’?”
“YESSSS!!!!!!! One ‘P’.”
TH-S PL-T RE-LLY S-CKS
“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”
“GO AHEAD!!!!!”
“THIS PLOT REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!”
“YESSSS!!!!!!! WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!!!!! Johnny, tell Mimi all the fabulous prizes in store for our contestant!!!!!!!!!”
“A BRAND NEW BRUNSWICK BAYLINER MOTORBOAT!!!!!! Yes, dump that Radio Flyer of a craft that your husband’s been sandpapering for the last 25 years when he’s not teaching his daughter how to putt…”
Gang, fire away. Marty’s consolation prize is 2 free passes to the Milford Gentleman’s Club. Marty wanted me to tag along. Being a Christian, I had my reservations. But Jesus drank wine with the sinners plus I’ve never seen Hellfire Heather twirl a football to “Sweet Georgia Brown” while lap dancing. The talents we never knew we had.
