Bunfight At The OK Corral

Scene One

The Tumbleweed Saloon

All the actors enter and exit via the saloon swing-door (SR) unless otherwise stated. A bar is (USC) have as many tables and chairs as is practicable. Saloon Girls perform a song and dance routine. Music cue 1: Saloon Girls. After song ends…Exit Saloon Girls (USL)

Enter Butch.

BUTCH: Howdy folks! And welcome to Dodgy City! I’m Butch Casserole, and I work here at The Tumbleweed Saloon. Now, Dodgy City’s a mighty friendly place and we all greet each other in a mighty friendly way. So, every time I come on. I’ll shout howdy-doody, folks! and I want you all to shout back, howdy-doody, Butch! Will you do that? Let’s give it a try then. (exits and re-enters) Howdy-doody, folks! Now, The Tumbleweed Saloon is about to get a new owner today, on account of the previous one dying from a sudden case of lead poisoning. He was shot so full of lead, you could’ve sharpened his head and used him as a pencil. The new owner’s arriving on the next stagecoach.

CHORUS 1: I hope they don’t turn the place into a Weatherspoon’s.

CHORUS 2: Folks around here don’t like change.

BUTCH: I’ll try and remember that the next time you buy a drink.

Enter Molly at a run.

MOLLY: Butch! The stagecoach has just pulled up outside!

BUTCH: Okay, let’s give the new owner a good impression – so, no cussin’ or spittin’!

Enter Belle, singing.

BELLE: ‘Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam, and I’ll show you a house full of…’ (notices everybody staring at her) What are you all staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a woman before?

CHORUS 3: Yeah, but we ain’t never seen one like you afore.

BELLE: (preening) I don’t suppose you meet many women, as refined as what I am.

CHORUS 4: You look about as refined as Jeremy Clarkson out on a stag do.

BELLE: (to Chorus 4) You’d better smarten up for starters if you wish to continue frequenting my establishment.

BUTCH: You’re the saloon’s new owner!?

BELLE: That’s right. Belle’s the name – Belle Bottoms.

CHORUS 1: I’ll be hornswoggled!

BELLE: Not in here you won’t! This is going to be a family-friendly pub.

Chorus 2 hoikes and spits on the floor.

BELLE: Oi you!

CHORUS 2: You talkin’ to me?

BELLE: Yes! You’re barred!

CHORUS 2: What fer?

BELLE: For spitting on the floor!

CHORUS 3: But we always spit on the floor.

CHORUS 4: What do you think the sawdust’s fer?

CHORUS 1: Next, you’ll be tellin’ us we can’t bring our horses in no more.

BELLE: Of course, you can’t! This is a saloon, not a stable!

CHORUS 2: I can see an ugly old mare in here, right now.

BELLE: Where? (whirls around) I don’t see any ugly old mare.

CHORUS 3: Try lookin’ in the mirror!

Chorus laugh.

BELLE: (to Chorus) That’s it! You’re all barred!

Exit Chorus murmuring.

Music cue 2: Enter Doc Holliday.

DOC. H: Where’s everybody going, Molly? You’re not closing, early are you?

MOLLY: No, Doc Holliday. (moves behind bar)

DOC. H: Thank goodness – I thought I’d missed breakfast. The usual please, Molly.

MOLLY: (places a bottle of whiskey on bar) Here you are, Doc.

DOC. H: (guzzles bottle) That’s better.

BUTCH: (to Belle) You do realise you’ve just barred most of our customers?

BELLE: We can do without people like that.

MOLLY: But they’re the only kinda people we got around here.

BELLE: And who are you two?

BUTCH: We’re your employees.

MOLLY: I’m Molly.

BUTCH: And I’m Butch.

BELLE: I must say, you hide it well.

MOLLY: You’re the third owner we’ve had this year.

BELLE: Didn’t the others like it here, then?

BUTCH: They liked it fine.

BELLE: Then why didn’t they stay?

MOLLY: They did.

BELLE: And where are they now?

DOC. H: In the cemetery.

BELLE: What are they doing there?

BUTCH: Not a lot.

BELLE: You mean they’re dead!?

DOC. H: Yup! They had more holes in them a sieve.

BELLE: What happened to them?

MOLLY: They got shot.

BELLE: Where?

DOC. H: In the body, mostly. And I should know, I’m a doctor. (swigs bottle)

BELLE: I meant whereabouts, geographically.

MOLLY: In this very saloon.

BUTCH: Friday nights can get a bit rough in here.

BELLE: Maybe I should get myself a couple of big bouncers.

DOC. H: (ogling her bosom) Looks to me like you already have.

Enter Mayor Burke.

MAYOR: Sarsaparilla please, Molly.

MOLLY: Yes, Mr Mayor. (moves behind bar)

BELLE: How do your Mayorship.

MAYOR: Who are you?

BELLE: I’m Belle Bottoms, the new owner of The Tumbleweed Saloon.

MAYOR: Let’s hope you last longer than the previous owners.

BELLE: I plan on being around a long time.

MAYOR: You look like you already have been.

BELLE: How long have you been Mayor?

MAYOR: Ten years.

BELLE: That’s how long my late husband’s been gone. (vamping) And I’m in the market for a new one.

MAYOR: Don’t look at me – I never shop at the market.

BELLE: I’ll never forget our honeymoon. I never slept a wink. All night long, it was up and down, up and down. In and out, in and out. (to audience) Take my advice ladies – never book a room next to a lift.

DOC. H: What did your husband die of?

BELLE: He died of a Monday – or was it a Tuesday?

DOC. H: I meant how did he die?

BELLE: He worked at the Nescafe factory, and died after falling into a vat of coffee.

MOLLY: What a horrible way to go.

BELLE: Yes, but at least it was instant. (to audience) I’ll wait.

DOC. H: I’d better be off – I have surgery this morning. Can I give anybody a lift?

BELLE: You can’t drive home in that state!

DOC. H: Why not?

BELLE: Because you’re drunk as a skunk!

DOC. H: Yeah, but my horse ain’t. (exits SL)

Enter The Frisco Kid.

FRISCO: Gimme a shot’a whiskey, barmaid!

MAYOR: I’ll have another sarsaparilla, Molly. (to Frisco) I believe in temperance.

FRISCO: I don’t care if you believe in flatulence.

MAYOR: We don’t want that sort’a language here. This is a respectable town I’ll have you know.

FRISCO: And I’ll have you know I’ve already shot three men today.

MAYOR: So?

FRISCO: (brandishing his gun) So I could always make it four.

MAYOR: I’ll get these, Molly!

Molly pours their drinks.

FRISCO: Much obliged. Bottoms up! (downs it in one)

BELLE: (indicating Frisco’s gun) That’s a mighty big weapon you have there, mister.

FRISCO: I’m from Texas ma’am – everybody has big ones down there.

BUTCH: I once got into an argument with a man from Texas. He drew a gun, so I drew a gun. Then he drew another gun, so I drew another gun. Pretty soon, we were surrounded by lots of drawings of guns

FRISCO: (looking past Belle at Molly) What’s your name, gorgeous?

BELLE: (preens) It’s, Belle.

FRISCO: Well, you’ve just dropped a clanger, ‘cos I was talkin’ to your barmaid.

BELLE: Cheek! Who are you, anyway?

FRISCO: The name’s Keith – but everybody calls me The Frisco Kid.

MAYOR: I don’t hold with silly nicknames. I shall call you by your proper name.

FRISCO: Suit yourself. But the last person who called me Keith is feeding the buzzards.

MAYOR: (suddenly friendly) Are you planning on stayin’ long, Frisco?

FRISCO: What’s it to ya?

MAYOR: I’m Mayor Burke and I run this here town.

FRISCO: Well, from now on me and my ruthless gang will be running it.

MAYOR: Oh no, you won’t!

FRISCO: (pulls his gun) And what are you going to do about it?

MAYOR: Why I’ll…

FRISCO: You’ll what?

MAYOR: I’ll fetch Sheriff Wyatt Twerp. He’ll sort you out, just wait an’ see. (exits)

BUTCH: That’s a laugh. Twerp can barely see the end of his nose.

BELLE: Where are the rest of your gang, Frisky?

FRISCO: They’re outside tying up the horses.

Music cue 3: Enter Bonnie and Clyde.

FRISCO: What kept ya?

BONNIE: We had to tie our horses up outside town, boss.

FRISCO: Why?

CLYDE: We heard somebody say that this was a one-horse town. Didn’t we Bonnie?

BONNIE: We sure did, Clyde.

BELLE: These two idiots are your ruthless gang?

BONNIE: (proudly) We’re wanted in fifteen states!

BELLE: What for? Overdue library books?

CLYDE: How did you know!?

Enter Mayor with Sheriff Twerp who wears thick glasses and has a pair of handcuffs attached to his wrist, with one end open.

MAYOR: (pointing) There’s the Frisco Kid – now go and arrest him!

SHERIFF: Yes sir, Mr Mayor! (pulls his gun and pokes it against Belle)

BELLE: Is that your gun sheriff, or are you just pleased to see me?

SHERIFF: It’ll take more than dressing up in female clothing to fool me, Frisco.

BELLE: How dare you!

MAYOR: (turns Sheriff around) He’s over there, Twerp!

SHERIFF: Tryin’ to fool me by moving around, eh? (after much fumbling around, he finally manages to grab hold of Frisco) Okay Frisco, I’m taking you in.

FRISCO: I doubt you could take in washing.

SHERIFF: Make it easy on yourself and come quietly. (holds out the open handcuff)

FRISCO: Whatever you say, sheriff.

MAYOR: I told you the sheriff would sort you out, Frisco.

FRISCO: Yes, and I’d like to shake your hand for showing me the error of my ways.

MAYOR: Always happy to shake the hand of a reformed man. (offers handshake. Frisco takes his hand and snaps the handcuff on his wrist) What the…?

SHERIFF: (to Mayor) Let’s go, Frisco.

MAYOR: (high-pitched voice) But I’m not Frisco!

SHERIFF: An’ you can cut out the silly voice. I know it’s you. (drags the Mayor away)

MAYOR: I’ll get you for this, Frisco!

Exit Sheriff and Mayor (SL)

Frisco Gang laugh.

BONNIE: I need a drink.

CLYDE: Me too.

MOLLY: What can I get you both?

BONNIE: I’ll have a diet Pepsi.

CLYDE: And I’ll have Dr pepper.

FRISCO: I’m not having my gang, drinking pop! (to Molly) Give ‘em two whiskeys.

MOLLY: Yes, sir. (pours two shot-glasses of whiskey)

BONNIE: But boss – alcohol, always makes us do embarrassing stuff.

FRISCO: (pulls his gun) Drink up or else!

BON & CLY: Yes, boss!

Bonnie and Clyde pick up their drinks and down them in one.

FRISCO: That wasn’t so bad now, was it?

BON & CLY: No, boss. (whiskey kicks in) Eeeeha! Music cue 4: (they perform a ridiculous Mexican hat dance)

FRISCO: Stop dancing, you idiots! (they continue and try and involve Frisco) I said, stop! (bops them both on the head with his gun handle)

Bonnie and Clyde stagger about holding their heads.

BON & CLY: Ooooh, my head!

CLYDE: What happened?

FRISCO: You were both dancing like cats on a hot tin roof!

BONNIE: We told you alcohol makes us act silly, boss.

BELLE: Don’t blame the alcohol.

MOLLY: That’s five dollars for the drinks, Mr Frisco.

FRISCO: Put it on my tab.

BELLE: I’m sorry, but we don’t give credit.

FRISCO: Not even for a paying guest?

BUTCH: Paying guest?

FRISCO: I’m thinking of staying here for a bit.

BELLE: Open a tab, Molly! (taking Frisco’s arm) Let’s go and find you a room.

FRISCO: Later, Belle. First, I need to make a bank withdrawal.

BELLE: You don’t have to pay up front for my services, Frisky.

FRISCO: That’s mighty kind of you. But I feel naked without cash in my pocket.

BELLE: The problem is a lot of money these days is tainted.

FRISCO: What do you mean?

BELLE: Well, it ‘taint yours and it ‘taint mine. (laughs)

FRISCO: I’ll see ya later Belle. (to Bonnie & Clyde) Let’s go.

Exit Frisco gang.

(chants off) Down with demon drink! Down with demon drink!

Enter Ladies of the Temperance League, chanting.

MOLLY: Can I help you ladies?

STELLA: I’m Stella Artois, and we’re all ladies of The Temperance League.

BUTCH: Apt name, Stella – but what are you doing in a pub?

STELLA: We’re here to save fallen men.

BELLE: Save one for me, won’t you?

STELLA: Don’t you realise the problems that drink causes?

BELLE: The only problem I have is selling enough of it.

STELLA: Alcohol will bring society to its knees – then what will you do?

BUTCH: Lower the bar?

BELLE: (shooing them off) Goodbye ladies! (turns) Show me to my room, Butch.

BUTCH: I think Molly ought to do that, Belle.

BELLE: You can’t expect a slip of a girl to carry a big heavy bag upstairs.

BUTCH: I didn’t realise you wanted carrying.

BELLE: I was referring to my luggage!

BUTCH: (straining to lift her bag) What’s in this bag?

BELLE: Clothes, makeup, and toilet-water.

BUTCH: I think you’ve left the toilet in here.

BELLE: Never mind, I’ll find it myself. (lifts bag as if featherlight and exits SL)

BUTCH: She’s obviously on steroids.

Enter Saloon Girls (USL)

GIRL 1: Has the new saloon owner arrived yet, Molly?

MOLLY: Yes girls, and it’s a woman.

BUTCH: At least we think it is.

GIRL 2: What’s she like?

MOLLY: Well, she’s already barred most of our regulars.

BUTCH: So, we might be out of a job soon.

GIRL 3: Maybe we should all move to Tombstone.

GIRL 4: Sounds like another dead-end place.

MOLLY: I can’t go to Tombstone and leave father here all alone.

GIRL 1: But you haven’t seen your father in years, Molly.

GIRL 2: He spends all his time prospecting for gold.

GIRL 3: And there’s little prospect of him finding any.

Enter Fester at a run.

FESTER: Gold! I’ve struck gold! I’m rich! Rich I tell ya! (laughs manically)

MOLLY: Father! Is that you, underneath all that hair?

FESTER: Yes, Molly.

MOLLY: Oh, father! (hugs him) I hardly recognised you, it’s been that long.

FESTER: I’m know Molly, an’ I’m gonna make it up to ya, now that I’m filthy rich.

BUTCH: Let’s be honest Fester, you’ve always been filthy.

FESTER: This place has changed since I was last in.

BUTCH: Which is more than can be said for you. (wafts) Phowar!

Enter Belle (SL) she spots Fester and starts shoving him off.

BELLE: Come along Worzel Gummidge! We don’t want the likes of you in here, making the place look untidy.

MOLLY: But he’s my father, Belle!

BELLE: Oh, bad luck dear.

BUTCH: And he’s rich!

BELLE: (to Fester) How rich?

FESTER: Richer than Jeff Bezos.

Saloon Girls crowd excitedly around Fester, fussing over him.

BELLE: Clear off you gold-diggers! (shoos Saloon Girls off SL and turns to Fester) Well hello, handsome. I’m Belle, the owner of this saloon.

FESTER: In that case, I’d like to place something in your hand.

BELLE: Shall we go to my room first?

FESTER: No need. I’ll just get it out fer ya. (rummages in his trouser pocket)

BUTCH: I hope this won’t get us shut down.

FESTER: (produces a paper) These are the deeds to my goldmine. I want you to put them somewhere safe.

BELLE: No problem. (takes the deeds and tucks them down her top)

MOLLY: Shouldn’t you put it in the safe Belle, to stop anyone getting their hands on it?

BUTCH: They’re probably safer where they are, Molly.

FESTER: Do you do food? I could eat a horse an’ come back for the saddle.

BELLE: Would you care for a nibble in my private quarters?

FESTER: Will the food be hot or cold?

BELLE: Who mentioned food?

SFX: Fart sound.

BUTCH: (wafting) Phwoar!

FESTER: Sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been eating nuthin’ but baked beans fer months.

BELLE: Bring us up a bottle of Champagne, Molly. Oh, and some air-freshener. (to Fester) This way my little goldmine. (leads him off)

BUTCH: You fetch the bubbly Molly, and I’ll fetch the Febreze.

MOLLY: Okay butch.

Exit Molly and Butch opposite sides.