CURSES! EXCERPTED AGAIN!

Nobody asked for it, but I'm going to give it to you anyway. Here is an excerpt from my latest melodrama CURSES! OILED AGAIN! or NO CRUDE FOR A RUDE DUDE

(CREIGHTON CRETIN, a creep of the highest order, dressed to the nines all in black with a top hat and cape like he was going to the opera in the middle of nowhere, enters carrying a book entitled "Villainy for Dummies". He also has a badge pinned on his lapel with the letters VIT. Upon his entrance, he opens his book and reads aloud)

CRETIN: "Answer jeering audience with snappy comeback." Let's see...snappy comebacks. Ah, here we are.(flips through pages and reads) "That's okay. I booed when you came in too." Did someone perchance utter the name Creighton Cretin? They must have. My ears are burning. Then again so is everything else in this tortuous Texan terrain. Consider yourselves fortunate that you are in the presence of genius. Don't look around. I am referring to the gentleman who stands before you at this very moment. Need another clue? Let me sing it out for you. "Me me me me me!" (reads from book again) "Laugh maniacally for no reason at all." (laughs maniacally) It would behoove you all to cut me a little slack. I happen to be new at this. As you can plainly see, I am a VIT...Villain In Training. It wasn't long ago that I was a normal, every day dullard (addresses a male audience member) much like you, sir. (reads from book again) "The last time I saw a mouth like that, it had a hook in it." Anyway, back to me. I was stuck in a go nowhere, do-nothing job for what seemed to be the rest of my pathetic life. On the advice of a larcenous family member, a distant cousin, in fact, I set out to better myself by embracing the flip side of the coin because evil pays much better than good. I took a correspondence course. "How to Be a Bad Guy in Ten Easy Steps" and here I am, already in the midst of a most marvelous scheme concocted by this cousin of mine. This is how I find myself in this dreadful part of the world known as Armadillo, Texas where I have set myself up as the most prominent man in town, a dubious honor to say the least. The only problem is, I don't know the rest of the plan. My cousin sent me a wire to meet her out here in the middle of nowhere for some unfathomable reason. If she doesn't show up soon, I shall melt away. So why am I telling you all of this? Because I cannot resist an audience. But after getting a gander at you people, I should have tried a little harder. Go ahead. Get it out of your system.

(DELILAH DELUSCIOUS, a bawdy saloon chanteuse dressed in a showgirl variation of a cowgirl outfit, much like Marlene Dietrich in DESTRY RIDES AGAIN, enters holding a rope that leads off-stage behind her)

DELILAH: Hello, Creighton. Making friends again I see.

CRETIN: Well, if it isn't my late cousin, Delilah Deluscious. You certainly took your sweet time getting here. I'm a busy man I'll have you know.

DELILAH: As you should be. Have you done everything I've told you to do thus far?

CRETIN: Indeed I have. Upon arriving at this little piece of nothing on earth, I had no trouble whatsoever not only seeking employment in the town bank, but to rise in the ranks as the bank president within days. It was so very easy since no one was more qualified than I. Of course I had to step on a few toes, not to mention necks to get to that exalted position. This correspondence course of mine is working wonders for me. They've even provided me with this handy-dandy guide. (hands DELILAH book)

DELILAH: (hands him rope as she takes book and reads title) "Villainy for Dummies". They sure know their audience, don't they?

CRETIN: The title is the school's idea of a little joke.

DELILAH: That's why it's only a little funny. Speaking of which, why are you wearing all black in this heat? And a cape...are you attending the opera as well?

CRETIN: My ensemble happens to be traditional. It says so right there in the book. (reads) "Always dress in black as befitting your dastardly nature, regardless of the time of day, year or weather" But you are correct. This sun is absolutely unbearable. I'm sweating in places I didn't know I had before. What's at the end of this rope?

DELILAH: In due time. Since you're the bank president, you're in control of the mortgages of all the land in these parts, are you not?

CRETIN: Naturally. Unfortunately, they've been paid off for some time now only these rubes don't know that. As such, I have been able fleece every individual in the entire area who believes they are depositing their funds into the bank, but instead are heading right into my pockets. All I have to do is doctor the books which is possible with one of these. (produces eraser) Voila! Meet the eraser. It makes the truth go away just like magic and I can fill in whatever numbers I choose. Oh, eraser, you are the best thing ever. I do love modern technology. Clever, eh?

DELILAH: (grabs eraser and tosses it off stage) Chicken feed.

CRETIN: Is that so? I'll have you know that I am the richest man in town.

DELILAH: I've seen the town. That's not saying much. Now put a sock in it, you sap. When you see what I've brought you, you will fall to your knees in gratitude.

CRETIN: I doubt it. These trousers are brand new. Now what about this stupid rope already? Are you bringing a cow to market?

DELILAH: Oh, it is indeed a cow, cousin o' mine. A cash cow, that is. Get ready to thank me for everything you are about to receive. Give this rope a little tug and find out for yourself.

CRETIN: If I must. (attempts to pull rope and finds resistance) Seems to be stuck. (tries again) This is absurd. (goes the big yank and finds himself pulled off stage with a loud yelp)

DELILAH: That’s my Creighton. Weak of body, weak of mind.

CRETIN: (entering opposite, still fighting with the taut rope) I...almost...have...it....

DELILAH: Oh, give it to me! (impatient, taking rope from CRETIN, then tugs slightly) Right this way. (At the end of the rope, tied to his belt, is SLAP HAPPY PAPPY, an aged derelict seemingly lost in the world in both mind and body)
Creighton Cretin, allow me to introduce you to...

CRETIN: He looks like a piece of beef jerky with hair.

PAPPY: Howdy, pardner!

CRETIN: I am not your pardner.

PAPPY: Slap Happy Pappy's the name.

CRETIN: I didn't ask.

PAPPY: This purty lady here says y'all gimme a nickel.

CRETIN: The lady is wrong in more ways than one.

PAPPY: Gimme a nickel, I'll shows what I can do.
​
CRETIN: What, scare the crows away?

Copyright 2026 by Scott Cherney

To read the entire script, you can purchase a copy rightcher.

CURSES! THE ENTIRE SCRIPT! AVAILABLE FOR DOWNLOAD

What? Are performance rights available? What do you think I'm doing this for my health? Of course they are!

Contact me at: writtenbysc @gmail.com

​

Blog Behind the Blog

In my last blog about my latest melodrama, CURSES! OILED AGAIN!, I promised my next post would be the story behind the story under the assumption there was a story behind the story. Well, there is. Read on at your own risk...which is basically a few minutes of your precious time.

Way back in the 20th century, I was deeply entrenched in a dinner theater in Stockton, California called the Palace Showboat at Pollardville. The specialty of the house was melodrama/vaudeville double bill where I cut my teeth (and cracked a few molars) a budding actor/writer/director of several productions. At one point, I had a trifecta of shows I had put together, the musical/comedy variety second half of the program, our version of what was known as an olio. The last of this series of mine was a tribute to the theater itself, but more importantly the fantastic actors I had performed with and had the honor of directing as well. The name I gave this vaudeville was IT'S SHOWTIME, FOLKS!, an allusion to the incredibly inspirational Bob Fosse film ALL THAT JAZZ.

I wrote a comedy sketch called MURPHY'S MELODRAMA, utilizing Murphy's Law of whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. Quite simply, it was take-off of the melodramas in the first half of the show, only this time, it all went to hell from the word go. The card girl had a nasty cold, cues were missed, heroine had poison ivy, the villain drunk, etc. (While this pre-dated THE PLAY THAT GOES WRONG, it was nowhere neat the excellence of that show, but mine did come first, so there.) Anyway, the sketch, longer than most that we did on that stage, was received quite well, but my producer Goldie Pollard told me to cut it because the length of the entire show went far too long. Begrudgingly, I ditched it, then it finally dawned on me: The audience just sat through an entire melodrama. Now I was making them sit through another one, albeit a skewed version, but still... 

Oh well. Cut to twenty years later. Pollardville was closing for good, theater, restaurant, ghost town and all. We had a final reunion and show at the theater featuring Palace Showboat Players throughout the years. The show started as it always did with a melodrama and director Ed Thorpe chose MURPHY'S MELODRAMA to fill that spot and therefore became the last on that stage, an accolade I cherish to this very day.

Later on, I revamped my script, eliminating the wacky mishaps and transformed it into a normal, everyday melodrama that got a couple of nibbles over time which led the way to further success with my other properties. I had to put the brakes the on eventually and dive headlong into my novel which turned into a total obsession. Once I finished, I needed to get back into the script writing game again since I had a few ideas lined up. (See previous post: COMING ATTRACTIONS)

In my addled brain, I thought the best thing to start with would be an expansion of MURPHY'S MELODRAMA. Why not? The previous revamp I rattled off in just a few hours. How tough could it be? 

Two years later...

CURSES! OILED AGAIN! 

Yeah, a real walk in the park. During a snowstorm. Without a jacket.

It reminded me of the time my wife and I moved from one apartment complex to another which was right across the street. That was the first time I had used the phrase that never pays. How tough could it be? The answer: Almost as difficult as the move from California to Oregon. If I ever utter that rhetorical question again, I will punch myself in the face. Repeatedly.  

But I got another script out of it that I'm happy with and it's another notch in my writing belt. Now if I can only get someone to produce it. How tough can it be?

KA-POW!

CURSES! OILED AGAIN! or NO CRUDE FOR A RUDE DUDE is available for download at Lulu.com. 

CURSES! OILED AGAIN! 

on Lulu

Performance rights are available. Contact me at:

writtenbysc@gmail.com

Curses! Oiled Again!

 

The drought is over...at least for me. 

I am finally beginning to make headway on the promise I made to you and myself last year at this on delivering some new material (See post: COMING ATTRACTIONS). Okay, I finished one out of the four I planned for 2025, but that's at least 25%, right? Okay, fine. 

Anyway, here is the first melodrama in forever from yours truly, the aptly(?) titled CURSES! OILED AGAIN! or (wait for it) NO CRUDE FOR A RUDE DUDE. A one act, one set play with six-count 'em-six characters. The plot, such as it is, follows:

THAR'S OIL IN THAT SOIL! 

When oil is discovered underneath Nana Nanette's dirt farm deep in the heart of Texas, the vultures begin to swarm. Villain-in-training Creighton Cretin and his cousin, the dastardly diva known as Delilah Deluscious seek to to steal that land right from underneath Nana's nose. But she's got a pair of aces on her side-future Texas Ranger Buck N. Bronco and her granddaughter Bonnie Bluebonnet, a finishing school graduate with a mean right hook. And who is this Slap Happy Pappy, the kooky old cuss who found that black gold in the first place? (If you find out, let him know cuz he ain't got a clue)

CURSES! is available for PDF download at the low, low price of $2.99 at Lulu.com where you can find an array of my other works as well. Look around. maybe you'll see something you like. 

CURSES! OILED AGAIN! LINK

Remember that with every sale of this or anything else of mine, an angel gets its wings.

Coming up next, THE STORY BEHIND THE STORY or WHAT'S IT ALL ABOUT, SCOTTY?

WANT TO READ AN EXCERPT?

Every Day's a Holiday

 

Ain't that the truth? This practice of turning every single day into some sort of celebration or tribute to whatever obscure person, place or thing has gotten way out of hand but, boy, it sure is another excuse (lame or otherwise) to bring out the treats! (as if we need to after the indulging in the previous months)

In January of 2026 alone (according to the National Calendar which is a thing) here are some of the special days you can look forward to: Keto Day (1/5), Bobblehead Day (1/7), Arkansas Day (1/11), Green Juice Day (1/26) and My Birthday (1/29) which is not on the calendar, but should be.

Since it's still pre-Xmas and the middle of Hanukkah at this writing, this calls for some choice blog posts from the past twenty years gathered together on one page that I oh so cleverly call

HAPPY HOLIDAZE (click here for all the cheer)

Here you find festive posts about the season including the fake War on Christmas, a sweet story about a mall Santa Claus, holiday movie suggestions and a treacherous tale I spent on the road in the winter snow called CHAINS OF FURY.

Besides that, I've included other holidays as well (the real one not the faux ones that keep dolling out year after year. Gotta be a marketing ploy) Anyway, there are plenty of year end wrap-ups for New Year's, how I love love on Valentine's, some Thanksgiving turkey talk and wonderful Easter memories like the great bunny movie NIGHT OF THE LEPUS.

These should keep you busy until next year when I kick thing into high gear. Or just kick things, which I have been known to do.

Whatever you celebrate...

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU AND YOURS. BE GOOD TO TO EACH OTHER AND FOR GOODNESS SAKE, BE GOOD TO YOURSELVES. 

WE ALL DESERVE IT.

It's a Jungle In Here

Recently on my other blog, Scott Cherney's Etc., a diatribe about Artificial Intelligence, ironic with lack of intelligence in general. Read: A.I., A.I., OH) I've always said that I know very little about about a lot of things, but that hasn't prevented me from giving my opinions about everything and anything. See? I'm just like everyone else!

(Back to the subject at hand that has yet to present itself.)

As a creator/writer/insufferable hack, the abundance of A. I. in such a short period of time, along with the general public's surrender to it, has been a cause for concern especially since it can and is being used in various nefarious ways. Therefore, I'm going to throw out a warning out there to budding writers and/or  independently published authors currently in the mix or about to take the dive into these uncharted waters.

Since this past summer, I have received quite a few unsolicited e-mails such as this:

Hey Scott,

Okay, I gotta say it you might just be the most dangerous man west of Portland. You’ve got a cowboy’s swagger, a comedian’s wit, and apparently enough creative energy to fill an entire saloon (and still have time to win a stand-up competition? Come on!

I just finished reading about Song of the Canyon Kid, and seriously, who permitted you to mix Western grit, musical flair, and ridiculous hilarity into one full-blown showdown? The title alone sounds like something that should’ve been a cult classic by now. The “slinky gypsy seductress” and the “half-witted brother”? I’m convinced you wrote that scene purely to make the reader snort-laugh mid-page turn.

It’s giving Blazing Saddles meets classic stage melodrama, and I swear if this book doesn’t make people grin, they probably need to check if their funny bone’s under warranty.

Anyway, I’m (redacted to not give her publicity or the time of day), a freelance book marketer and community ringleader for over 3,000 readers who live for books that don’t just entertain but mess with their moods in the best way possible. We spotlight authors who deserve a bigger audience (because let’s face it, Amazon’s algorithm sometimes acts like it’s blindfolded and on a horse).

So, here’s the real question, Scott: if Song of the Canyon Kid suddenly became the talk of the town, with readers quoting your lines and auditioning for the role of Nastassia Kinky in TikTok skits, would you stay chill behind your cowboy hat… or would you burst into a full-blown saloon song while sipping sarsaparilla and plotting your next wild tale?

At first glance, you'd think, Wow! Somebody finally gets me! Finally I'll be able to drown myself in all the recognition I well deserve! In your face. everybody else!

Not so fast there, Rupert Pupkin. Reality? Check, please!

SONG OF THE CANYON KID is a twelve year old self-published book, an adaptation of my melodrama of the same name. It was an experiment and a failed one at that. The book in any form just didn't sell for several reasons I won't bore you with here since I have enough to bore you with as it is. SONG is still listed to sale on Amazon and several other outlets (see below cuz I can still hustle this sucker until it makes a dollar). So out of the clear blue sky, whoever wrote this glowing review that's not a review found my book out of the millions of titles on the Amazon and and wants to give the moon?

That's another thing. You can track sales on Amazon. No sales have been reported in the last year. Sad, but true. Algorithm, my dying digital ass. 

Everything the author of this fictional account is a little too spot-on but non-specific. What is proposed falls under the category of "Too Good to Be True". And because this hasn't been the only bait thrown in my direction as of late (there must be a dozen by now for SONG and a couple of other books as well), I reached to Angela Hoy at WritersWeekly.com to ask WTF? Her reply was short, but to the point. It's a scam, as I suspected, putting the book information I have on Amazon into A.I. and regurgitating it all into that seductive grope of an e-mail. Soon afterward, she published this to 'splain it all to you a little bit better: https://writersweekly.com/ask-the-expert/book-club-scam-targeting-authors

So there you, folks. Author beware. It's a minefield out there as it is, but now there are lot more bombs being planted ready to take you down and all your money, leaving nothing left for the undertaker. So stay diligent. Stay vigilant. It isn't A.I. that's going to be the end of us. It's people. 

Then again, so is Soylent Green.

SONG OF THE CANYON KID along with several of my other titles on Amazon along with several other outlets such as Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Apple.

And here's a real review from the Online Book Club.

 

Francois with the Save!

How do you wrap up another year on a positive note?

For me, it's a brand new dinner theater production of my murder mystery comedy DEAD TUESDAY, this time with the good folks known as the Osage Community Players in Linn, Missouri coming up this weekend, Nov. 7 and 8. 

In case you don't know (or have possibly forgotten), DEAD TUESDAY tells the tale of international playboy, bon vivant and all around good guy Francois Andre Midas Fibian V as he attempts to solve a murder in a New Orleans mansion during Mardi Gras at the same time a voodoo curse is turning him into a frog. Yes, really.

The OSP gang know how to throw one of these wing-dings together with a Mardi Gras themed dinner featuring a choice of Cajun grilled chicken or catfish, a veggie boil and lotsa of other goodies that'll make your taste buds sing "Iko Iko".

This production book-ends the MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER show that the Resounding Performing Arts troupe staged this last May in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. My eternal gratitude goes out to both of the theater groups. 

But for now, the glass boot will be raised this Friday night in a toast to the Osage Community Players. Break a leg...or a flipper as the case may be. And as always...

LAISSEZ LES BON TEMPS ROULER!

(LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!)

Performing rights for DEAD TUESDAY or MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER are available for amateur and professional theater groups.

For more information and to obtain a full perusal script, please contact me at: 

writtenbysc@gmail.com

Monkeyshines

And now, ladies and gentlemen, before I tell you any more, I'm going to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld. He was a king and a god in the world he knew, but now he comes to civilization merely a captive - a show to gratify your curiosity. Ladies and gentlemen, look at Kong, the Eighth Wonder of the World.

Besides melodramas and murder mysteries, I wrote a lot of comedy sketches in my life and time, mostly for the vaudeville section at the Palace Showboat Theatre at Pollardville back in the 1980s. The following comes from a show called BACK TO THE THIRTIES, directed by my mentor, Lou Nardi.  

This is one of two sketches about King Kong that I wrote. Why? I like King Kong. There. Mystery solved. This one, the better of the two, is a classic example of reworking an old joke and I’ll be damned if it didn’t work. I've been fortunate to have this produced at several venues other than Pollardville over time, including a comedy festival in Germany. As all know, nobody knows comedy more the Germans.

Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, I give you:

MONKEYSHINES

by Scott Cherney

The curtain opens on the streets of New York City, circa 1933. Center stage stands the MAYOR and CHIEF OF POLICE facing downstage and staring skyward. A siren blares as a few innocent bystanders run behind them, looking up as they flee in terror.

CHIEF: Boy, he sure is up there.

MAYOR: I can’t believe this. 

CHIEF: Take it easy, Mr. Mayor.

MAYOR: Take it easy, he says. Here I am – the mayor of New York City-the greatest city in the entire world-and all I can do is stand here like a stiff while a thirty-foot ape rips my town apart with his bare hands. Then what does that big gorilla do? He shimmies up the Empire state building like he was looking for coconuts. (grabs CHIEF by lapels) Chief, you have got to do something!

CHIEF: (into bullhorn) This is the police. We have you surrounded.

MAYOR: You idiot! What’re you going to do-arrest him?  He’s a giant monkey! You can’t talk to him like he’s a common criminal. In case you didn’t know…this is King Kong, probably the strongest creature on the face of the earth.

CHIEF: Get outta here…He’s a big sissy!

MAYOR: Oh? And how did you arrive at that conclusion?

CHIEF: He’s carrying a little dolly around with him.

MAYOR: That’s not a dolly, muttonhead. That is a full-grown woman… (woman’s shoe drops seemingly out of nowhere and onto CHIEF)…and that is her shoe.

CHIEF: Uh oh.

MAYOR: What?

CHIEF: You’d better hope that’s ALL he drops.

MAYOR looks up in silent horror, then opens an umbrella. CHIEF tries to hide with him.

MAYOR: Why is this happening to me? This isn’t what’s supposed to happen? Crime… poverty… corruption… THAT’s what’s supposed to happen.

CHIEF: Yeah. Those are the perks.

MAYOR:  But this…! Why, why did I ever let that cheap hustler talk me into bringing the world’s largest ape-the eighth wonder of the world-to my city? I’m not a mayor…I’m a zookeeper! And what happens…that big hairball goes nuts in downtown Manhattan!

CHIEF: What a mess.

MAYOR: Buildings in ruins…automobiles destroyed… trains derailed…and look over there. (pointing)

CHIEF: (looking right) What is it? It looks like a big squashed tomato.

MAYOR: That’s the fire commissioner!

CHIEF: Jeez! What happened to him?

MAYOR:  He’s got the flu. What do you think, moron? Look at him. He has been stepped on by a hairy foot with a shoe size in the nineties! There is a splotch like this every hundred feet up and down 42nd Street. (grabs CHIEF again) I’ve got flat people stuck to my streets…and this is an election year! I want that furry freak out of my town… now!

CHIEF: Okay, I’ve got a plan. It’s a little risky, but it just might work.

MAYOR: Chief, the entire city is at your disposal tell me what you need. I’ll make a list. (takes out pad and pencil)

CHIEF: First of all, I’m gonna need trucks…Big heavy-duty trucks…about a hundred of ‘em… all parked in a circle.

MAYOR: (writing) A hundred trucks in a circle…got it. 

CHIEF: Next, rope…lots and lots of rope…maybe 10,000 feet.

MAYOR; Rope…10,000 feet…what else?

CHIEF:  And canvas…a big canvas…big enough to cover a football stadium.

MAYOR: Canvas…check!

CHIEF: Okay…now this is the most important thing…

MAYOR: Yes? Yes?

CHIEF: I need a banana…about this big! (extends arms)

MAYOR: I’m gonna kill you! (chases CHIEF off)

BLACKOUT

Copyright 1984 by Scott Cherney

Super Sized For Your Perusal

Now on my website, WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY, two-count 'em-two extended previews of my murder mystery comedies DEAD TUESDAY and MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER for your perusal. How extended are they? They are SUPER SIZED, BABY! Two full acts of each play-that's two out of three, mind you. The third act containing the solution to each mystery is withheld from the preview.

DEAD TUESDAY

International playboy Francois Fibian is the only one who can solve the murder of a prominent New Orleans socialite during a Mardi Gras costume ball, but he has his own problems. Someone at this soiree is trying to frame him for the crime. To make matters worse, a voodoo curse is turning him into a frog. Yes, really.

DEAD TUESDAY is a comic, mystical interactive murder mystery play with New Orleans flair and a cast size of 3 men and 3 women.

MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER   At a sci-fi convention reunion of the cult TV series STAR TRUCK, there is only one question on everyone's lips: Who killed Captain Kork? Could it be First Officer Mr. Spark? Maybe it's Carrie Fishwich, the blowsy actress from the rival franchise, STAR BOARS? And that alien over there...is that a ray gun in its pocket or it just glad to be here?

MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER is an intergalactic, interactive murder mystery with a cast size of 3 men and 3 women.

Both of these shows have been performed with great success from one end of the US of A to the other and are perfect for both professional and amateur theater groups.

Go forth and check them out now at WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER and DEAD TUESDAY are subject to royalty. They are fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, the British Commonwealth including Canada and all other countries of the Copyright Union.

All inquiries regarding performance rights may be directed to me because I wrote the bleedin' things'

Contact me at:           

writtenbysc@gmail.com

More information about MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER can be found at 

OFF THE WALL PLAYS

The Legend of the Boot

It's time to raise the boot again!

I've been very fortunate to have my plays produced across the country ever single year for the past decade, the culmination of a dream I've had ever since I first put pen to paper. As such,  I started a tradition to salute both the theater groups and my good fortune for an as-yet unbroken annual streak.

The significance of a beer-filled boot is a tradition I started when my step-daughter Tracey bought me a souvenir boot mug when she and my granddaughter Kardena saw my show SONG OF THE CANYON KID at the Great American Melodrama Theater in Oceano, CA in 2014. Since then, whenever a show of mine goes on the boards, I fill the mug with a delicious, frothy and special selection beer of choice and toast the theater in question on their opening night. This time around, I raised the boot to the Resounding Performing Arts Group of Williamsport, PA for their production of my murder mystery comedy MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER. What made this even more significant was that it marked the second show of mine Resounding has produced, the first being DEAD TUESDAY just last year. They have now joined the Double Shot Club, theater groups that have staged more than one of my shows starting with the aforementioned Great American Melodrama, Sugar High Theatricals in Illinois, SanZman Productions in Los Angeles and the one that started it all, Mel O' Drama of Nashville.

Among the fine beverages I have enjoyed in this endeavor: Robust Porter from Reuben's Brews in Seattle, Bend, Oregon's Silver Moon Brewery's Catch and Release IPA, Cannonball NW Red Ale from Portland, Batsquatch Hazy IPA from Ashland's Rogue Brewery, Hubert MPA from Melvin Brewing in Alpine, WY and Brother Thelonius Belgian Style Abbey Ale from North Coast Brewing of Fort Bragg, CA. And believe me, there were many more ales and beers imbibed to celebrate the moments. I whole heartedly recommend each and every one of these. 

Of course it's not about the beer, but the theater groups who have graciously decided to take a chance on an independent playwright like myself. I am humbled and extremely grateful to each and every one of the fine theater companies and groups that have produced my work over the past decade. It's been a great ride and I look forward, as I always do, to the next when the boot gets re-filled and I proudly raise that boot high in the air once again.

Cheers to you!

Now hold my beer.

MURDER-THE FINAL FRONTIER is available from OFF THE WALL PLAYS. Please visit them for a free script preview as well as information of production rights. 

And don't forget my website WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY for more info on everything else. Except beer.

Coming Attactions

Happy New Year, lords and and ladies and everyone in between! Hope 2025 is everything you want it to
be and more. I know I do.

There is a plethora of stuff on the horizon waiting for this guy right here to get on his pony and ride...or write as the case may be. (How am I going to write on the back of a horse? Probably as well as I usually do.)

Let's get started, shall we?

New content is on the way in the form of several plays, currently in several stages of development. These include:

A new melodrama: CURSES, OILED AGAIN! or NO CRUDE FOR A RUDE DUDE

Two interactive murder mysteries: CURSES, MURDERED AGAIN! (yeah, 2 CURSES. Wanna make somethin' out of it) and WHO SLEW DADDDY GOOSE?

A full fledged comedy: WACKY WOOZY'S WACKY WORLD (working title)

The reason these scripts have not been completed by now as they should is because I have spent the better part of the last decade finishing what has become a lifelong project, my first novel in way too many years. For the better part of the last decade, I hunkered down, as they say, and worked on this book every single day, pushing everything aside. It never left my mind and at long last, on January 3, 2025, it is done. Published is another thing altogether, so that announcement is forthcoming as well. So I actually have just a manuscript. It's not a book...yet. But it does have a title.

BURY ME NOT

And there will be more scintillating, insightful and disposable posts on my other blog:

SCOTT CHERNEY'S ETC.

I'll keep y'all apprised of the progress of all things in future posts, but for now, 2025 is shaping up faster than 

More posts about my novel:

WHAT A NOVEL IDEA

FIRST DRAFT DODGER

THE GRATING AMERICAN NOVEL

and please check out my website  for all of my works:

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

Seasons Greetings From Me to Thee

Being the master marketer of my own work that I am, I have chosen NOT to put in a hard sell for my books or plays this holiday season. I'll include a couple of links at the bottom, but that's about it.

Instead, I would like to direct you over to my other blog, Scott Cherney's Etc., for a look at a collection of my Xmas themed posts all collected on one page HAPPY HOLIDAZE. 

Included in this collection are some Christmas movie recommendations, a rant 'n rave about the supposed War on Christmas, some delightful anecdotes about the season as well an exciting action-adventure in a snowstorm. Top that off with a charming tale of a trip to see my family when I re-discover the true meaning of this greatest of all possible holidays.

Hope you enjoy them. While you're on the site, check out a few of my other posts as well. You might find something you like.

As I say every year at this time, no matter what holiday you acknowledge or even if you follow any at all, do yourself a big favor and celebrate something. Why the heck not? Be good to each other and for goodness sake, be good to yourselves. 

Happy Holidays from all of us to all of you

See you next year!

HAPPY HOLIDAZE PAGE

SCOTT CHERNEY'S BOOK PAGE

SCOTT CHERNEY ON AMAZON

New to You LaRue

Recently the Heartland Community Theatre of Clinton staged LA RUE'S RETURN or HOW'S A BAYOU?, the comic melodrama written by Edward Thorpe and myself WAY back in the last quarter of the 20th century. Hey, I'm aged, okay, like a big wedge o' cheddar. 

The fine folks at Heartland and fine folks there are indeed, sent me a series of cast and production shots from the show that I post here for your edification.

Left to right-Chris Smith, Garey Flippin, Janet Smith, Chris Crittendon, Zac Maggi, Amanda Garcia and Martin Grisier

Strike the pose! Chris Smith as Lt. Alan Wexstad

It must be Happy Hour somewhere. Garey Flippin as Laslo and Zac Maggi as Ike

Love that smile. Chris Crittendon as Mimi 

Yikes! Now THAT is a Swamp Crone! Janet Smith nails it!

And last but certainly not least, this Heartland production was directed by Linda Freese, who is aces in my book. (Yes, I have a book)

HEARTLAND'S FACEBOOK PAGE

I look forward to working with these good people again. I say that every time, but every time I mean it.

Want to join these good people? Performance rights for LA RUE'S RETURN are available for professional and amateur theater groups. Contact me, Scott Cherney at writtenbysc@gmail.com for information and to request a perusal script absolutely FREE.  

Hey, maybe you too can get in the book.

La Rue Out of the Blue.

As a one-man band, for the most part, marketing my play scripts to theater groups here, there and
everywhere has rewarded me with various productions of my work across the country for the last ten years. This involves soliciting organizations one by one by way an initial query with information about the play or plays in question, sending them a script if I get through the first obstacle and then playing the waiting game when I check my e-mail daily with all appendages crossed pleading "Pleasepleasepleaseplease..." 

Last year, I received a reply from the Heartland Community Theatre of Clinton in Clinton, Missouri, one of the best responses I've ever received. It was a rave review, extremely enthusiastic about whichever script I submitted and, to make it even better, a request to send them anything else of mine. What did you think I would do? I sent two more, both of them also given very positive assessments along with the best comment of all: that heartland would love to produce these shows when they could fit it into their schedule. I was over the moon. A trifecta? What? Widdle ol' me? This all played havoc with my fragile ego and my natural tendency to being emotionally needy and insecure, but it sure perked me up for awhile. Well, time passed and when I didn't hear back from HCT, I figured they did too, so I moved on. I've had enough experience with the process as all writers do, but not enough to cry into my pillow (not very much anyway). 

I try to follow up with whatever organization I submit my scripts, not to the point of harassment. No answer is usually responsible by itself. However, a couple of weeks back, I gave it a shot and contacted Heartland Community Theatre after a year's time to perhaps get an answer one way or the other. A reaction like the one they gave me just couldn't be ignored. I'll be goldurned if they didn't reply within the frickin' hour! Apparently, the show they had scheduled fell through and a replacement was chosen: LARUE'S RETURN or HOW'S A BAYOU?, a comic melodrama by Edward Thorpe and this guy right here. To make it even sweeter? They wanted to go into production STAT and on the boards next month. The quickest deal I ever made. Therefore, LARUE'S RETURN will play three performances Oct. 11, 12 and a matinee on the 13th at the Heartland Community Theatre of Clovis. 

The magic continues. This production officially makes LA RUE'S RETURN the most popular title in my catalogue. (Yes, I have a catalogue. Don't be snotty. Check out the link below if you don't believe me) 

My best friend writing partner and brother Edward Thorpe AKA Max would be as proud as I am right now. He's probably smiling down upon me and thinking of a way he can flick my ear with his finger just for laughs.

Thanks, HCT and break a leg!

Performance rights for LA RUE'S RETURN are $40 per performance with all script fees waived to allow theaters to copy as many as they require from a PDF after a written contract. To receive a FREE PERUSAL SCRIPT, please contact, me, Scott Cherney at: writtenbysc@gmail.com

You can also read a free excerpt from this or other titles in the aforementioned catalogue of Cherney scripts including a pair of interactive murder mysteries on my website:

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

Red Asphalt (Part Two)

Concluding the first (and only) bloggerview (blog interview, whatever) with Scott Cherney, author of the road rage novel RED ASPHALT, conducted in a darkened soundproof room away from the distraction of The Real World or some other crappy MTV production. 

SCOTT CHERNEY'S ETC: Your lead character name is Calvin Wheeler. Doesn't Wheeler have some significance?

SCOTT CHERNEY: Why, yes it does. It actually comes from an old Goofy cartoon from the "50s or '60s about road rage, of all things. It wasn't called that back then. Anyway, Goofy was kind of a Jekyll/Hyde character. The nice guy was Mr. Walker who loved babies and kittens and whatever. But once he got behind the wheel he transformed into the monster Mr. Wheeler. Once again, another act of larceny on my part. I remember seeing this cartoon on THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF DISNEY, but I might have also seen it in driver training too, along with, of course, RED ASPHALT.

ETC: You mentioned that Calvin believes he has a great gift to give to the world. What might this great gift be?

SCOTT CHERNEY: Calvin is under the impression that he could very well be the next George Lucas. He has been working on a novel for almost a decade, one that considers has the potential to explode into a major phenomenon with unlimited franchise potential. He's so convinced of its success that he is staking his entire life on it, pretty to the exclusion of everything else.

ETC: Sounds like a "do-or-die" situation.

SC: As a matter of fact, it is, in more ways than one. The book becomes an all-consuming obsession for him. It's a romantic notion to say that...to quote yet another movie because that's what I do...there's a line in a great film witten and directed by John Milius called THE WIND AND THE LION when Sean Connery says "Is there not one thing in your life that is worth losing everything for?" Being a romantic, I understand that. So does Calvin. His "one thing" is his book. But just because it's romantic doesn't make it any less impractical.

ETC: What is the name of this magnum opus in question?

SC: Say what?

ETC: What's this here book he's a'writin'?

SC: It's called ABRACADABRA, a massive, colossal fantasy epic that mashes sword and sorcery together with science fiction and world history into one big ass casserole. ABRACADABRA is an old concept of my very own that goes back to the late 1970s. Just like so many pieces I've worked on over the years, it sat in storage ready to be shit-canned, but I ended up saving it by sticking it into RED ASPHALT when I turned Calvin into a writer. I'm really pleased that I gave
ABRACADABRA one last chance because it ended up taking on a life all of its own. It also ended up being an integral part of the main story.

ETC: How so?

SC: At one point, Calvin says, "Without magic, life is nothing." Later on, he's convinced that there is no real magic, only tricks we play on ourselves. Abracadabra. It's also a better title than PRESTO CHANGE-O.

ETC: Is he right?

SC: There is no right or wrong. It depends on your perspective. I don't want to get into a debate about faith vs logic. Again, I'm a romantic. I think miracles can happen and that's not religious dogma, just goofy optimism, something I tend to balance with bitter cynicism. It makes a nice cocktail, don't you think? On the other hand, Calvin feels duped, especially by himself. When he realizes what his delusions have cost him, he thinks it was all just a trick. There's a big difference between delusions and imagination. Calvin doesn't realize that until it's too late.

ETC: How does a "big ass casserole" taste?

SC: With the right ingredients, not too shabby. If you cook it right, it hardly has a trace of ass.

ETC: It sounds yummy. Is Calvin a good cook?

SC: You mean a good writer? He could be. He has a lot of good ideas, but he's never completed anything, nor has he shown any of his work to anybody. He tells his wife about the book. He even discusses its progress with her. But he's never shown any of it. He wants to wait until until it's finished and it may never be done. ABRACADABRA represents a sanctuary for Calvin. He's safe when he's working on it. Since he's been beginning lose a few marbles, it's always been there for him. Once it's done, he'll have nothing else, nowhere else to go. He'll have to deal with the reality of getting the damn thing published and therefore, out of his control. He wants to succeed, but only on his own terms and it don't work like that. Somebody's going to have to read the damn thing eventually. It keeps it to himself, how will he ever succeed? Does it make ABRACADABRA a book at all? It's that hoary old cliche of the tree that falls in the forest making a sound or not. But that's not even Calvin's biggest problem. Time's a wastin' and he damn well knows it.

ETC: What does that mean?

SC: He's been working on ABRACADABRA for so long that it's starting to fade away from him and he knows that. He hasn't even begun to assemble a workable first draft, opting to just work out the story details first. After seven years, it's getting tired before he's even begun. Time is constant. It doesn't stop for anything. It's certainly not going to wait for Calvin or anyone else for that matter. Time is big theme in RED ASPHALT-the lack of time, time running out, the passage of time, no time, overtime and, like I just said, wasting time. I guess it all boils down to mortality. But with writing, as time zips on past, there's always that possibility that the wonderful idea you have been slaving on for so long will someone else's as well. They may beat you to the punch, even if you came up with that brilliant idea first.

ETC: Explain.

SC: This has happened to me more times than I'd like to admit. My next novel, the one I alluded to earlier, has been my own dream project almost as long as ABRACADABRA was. In that time, I've seen two different things appear on the horizon-one, a movie the other, a TV series. Both derailed my book and forced me to make changes, else it looked like I was ripping them off. Now that some time has past, I feel confident enough to move ahead.

ETC: This is the second time you've made some connection between you and Calvin

SC: For good reason. I based a lot of Calvin on myself. I've been a lab courier just like Calvin. I also taught traffic school. Calvin lives in the same house where I grew up...I take that back. I lived in the house next door. I'm also a writer with many of the same frustrations and conflicts Calvin has had.

ETC: So RED ASPHALT based on a true story?

SC: Sort of. I prefer "inspired by true events". I took a lot from my own life as inspiration, but it's not a biography. It's not supposed to be. It's a work of fiction. A lot of the people and events are true, but not all. Keep in mind that everyone and everything is seen through Calvin's eyes, a very skewed vision of the world to say the least.

ETC: What's the percentage of fact to fiction?

SC: I'd say about 60/40. That's 60 fact-40 fiction.

ETC: What was your reasoning for doing this?

SC: It's the old chestnut of "write what you know". I actually thought it would be easier. Once I jumped into the deep end of Lake Me, it became a lot more difficult. I began to see the real reason that I had for writing this story to begin with-to exorcise a lot of my personal demons. A lot of this book was written out of pain. Back in the early nineties, when I first conceived of this story, I was on quite a rocky road myself. Much of what I wrote came from a dark place that got even darker once I started digging. I ended up not delving into some of my real issues and instead embellished others in their stead. I didn't begin to see the light until about the middle of the second draft, realizing that this form of cheap therapy was actually working. I used to consider acting a form of therapy, but since I had to put that part of my life on the back burner, I needed another outlet or else I was going to end up a babbling baboon for the rest of my born days.

ETC: What personality traits do you and Calvin share?

SC: Well, we’re both extremely opinionated and we share a lot of the same views. This was a good way for me to rant and rave about certain subjects-like technology, for example-that have been festering inside out of me with no place to go. Sometimes my writing becomes a forum for me to blow off steam.

ETC: A lot of hot air, you mean.

SC: No, I don’t and you’re a clod. Anyway, Calvin and I are both dreamers, more often than not to the point of total distraction. We also obstinate, morose and painfully insecure, though I don’t think I’m the terminal case that Calvin is in this regard. We both loners, but I’m much more social than he ever has been. Calvin is what I would have been like without the wonderful people I’ve allowed in my life. I’m talking about my friends-and I’ve had great friends in my life-the family I now have…certainly my wife Laurie.

ETC: How else are you and Calvin alike?

SC: We both share this obsession with time. That comes out of insecurity as well. It stems from fear. Fear of running out of time before making one’s mark in the world, which of course is the most futile act in the grand scheme of things. It ‘s tough to look at the big picture. No one wants to be made to feel insignificant. But then again, perception is everything. I guess it depends which end of the telescope you’re looking through.

ETC: Or microscope.

SC: Yep. But you know, I have come to realize that worrying about wasting time is really one big waste of time.

ETC: What other ways do you and Calvin differ?

SC: You mean other than the killings and all? Calvin’s an isolationist, like I said before. That’s not healthy. You have to talk to somebody. All he does is talk to himself. He doesn’t take responsibility for his actions and feels like a martyr. When he feels that the whole world is against him, he takes it out on his telemarketer. Calvin becomes a bully just to make him feel better about himself.

ETC: Why didn’t you describe what Calvin looks like?

SC: I purposelessly left it vague. I preferred to let the reader fill in those gaps. Calvin makes a lot-I mean a lot of disparaging comments about certain characters’ weight or appearance and other than the cold sore he has, Calvin doesn’t talk about his own physical shortcomings. He’s really immaturely shallow in those regards. He's a hypocrite. He hates it when others judge him, yet he feels justified criticizing everybody else. The readers can take their own shots if they wish. But I don’t let Calvin get away with anything. Not one bit.

ETC: Well, there is one other main difference between you and Calvin?

SC: What’s that?

ETC: Unlike Calvin, your book is published.

SC: You’re right. You know what? You’re okay.

ETC: So am I.

SC: Yeah. Huh?

To sum up, Scott Cherney was very forthcoming and accommodating in his interview with Etc. Then again, what else would you expect? He was talking to himself. Since this was first published in the first decade of the 21st century, RED ASPHALT is still out there. So is road rage. Maybe it's not a case study to help understand this affliction, but then again, things are exactly getting any easier out there on the roads, are they? The case of Calvin Wheeler is a cautionary tale well worth your time. Be careful out there, folks...and happy motoring. I hope.

NOW ON SALE IN PAPERBACK AND KINDLE AT AMAZON

RED ASPHALT BOOK EXCERPT   

ROAD RASH

FOR MORE INFO ON RED ASPHALT AND MY OTHER WORKS, VISIT MY WEBSITE:

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY

Red Asphalt (Part One)

 On January 26, 2008, RED ASPHALT, the very first novel written by Scott Cherney, was published and released to the world. Some might say it escaped. (Not me) Here's an interview I conducted with myself upon its publication because no one else asked.

RED ASPHALT concerns a week in the life of a troubled medical courier whose life takes a nasty sharp turn into the harshest of realities. When his marriage, job and dreams simultaneously implode, this distant runner-up in the human race suddenly feels empowered for the very first time when he becomes a nightmare on four wheels.

It's not surprising that Scott finally got around to finishing his novel. After all it has been a dream of his since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. You see, I've known Scott all of my life, so it's only fitting that I be the first to interview him on the arrival of RED ASPHALT. But Scott is talkin'. I sat down with the author in front of a mirror for this exclusive interview that you will see here only at ETC.

ETC: Welcome to Etc.

SCOTT CHERNEY: Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here.

ETC: The pleasure is all mine.

SC: I know. I just said that.

ETC: Oh. Huh?

SC: Skip it.

ETC: RED ASPHALT is your first novel, but not your first book, am I correct?

SC: Right. I have a couple of other published works under my belt. The first was what I like to call my "movie memoir", IN THE DARK: A LIFE AND TIMES IN A MOVIE THEATER, which came out in 2003.

Then there was my true travel tale PLEASE HOLD THUMBS: A NOT-SO-ROUND TRIP TO SOUTH AFRICA.

And technically, RED ASPHALT is my first completed novel. There's another unfinished "masterwork" sitting in storage as we speak that I hope to finish before I croak.

ETC: Is it true that RED ASPHALT started out as a screenplay?

SC: Yeah, it did. Just about everything I come up begins as a movie. I look at everything cinematically. Everything's a movie to me. It's just the way I'm wired. I originally conceived RED ASPHALT as a film even up to the point that I wrote a first draft screenplay. Then I said to myself, "Hey! Why not write this up in book form, finish the screenplay and that way you can make two sales instead of one." So I used the first draft as an outline and proceeded to write my own novelization. But it soon became much more than that. The evolution of this material was quite amazing. Now when I return to the screenplay, there's going to be so much more to work with. I'm really happy with the result.

ETC: Speaking of movies, the title of your book sounds vaguely familiar.

SC: Yeah. It should. I stole that baby outright from an old driving training film about road safety, probably the CITIZEN KANE of the genre. RED ASPHALT was produced by the California Highway Patrol and featured a lot of gnarly real life car crash scenes-very gory and very graphic. A real splatter film-perfect for teenagers, especially after lunch. In fact, I just found out there is an entire series of RED ASPHALT movies, I think about five in all. The latest is from 2003. I'm sure they're all over You Tube. To tell you the truth, I've never seen RED ASPHALT or any of the sequels. I did see BLOOD ON THE HIGHWAY in high school though. Anyway, I call my book RED ASPHALT as sort of an homage to those movies as well as an allusion to the traffic safety classes in the story. But it's also a better title than I ever could come up with, so there it is.

ETC: What's the story of RED ASPHALT?

SC: RED ASPHALT is about a guy named Calvin Wheeler, a dreamer who is in denial of his own reality. He feels shackled to his everyday life, a seemingly normal existence that he considers a prison. It's all because he aspires to greater things. He believes that he was put on this earth for a very special reason. Unfortunately, because he has to co-exist with the rest of the world, he thinks that his potential is being squandered and this great gift of his is slipping away from his fingers the longer he has to conform to a society that he wants nothing to do with. When he finds that is his only choice, Calvin goes all the way around the bend he had been heading for quite sometime. He's a guy who's splitting apart at the seams. Unfortunately, when he pops his last stitch, he just happens to be behind the wheel at the time because he drives for a living...and as Clint Eastwood says in THE OUTLAW JOSEY WALES, "Dyin' ain't much of a livin', boy."

ETC: So Calvin has road rage.

SC: Yeah, among other things. But RED ASPHALT is not about road rage, per se. It's not a diatribe on the subject or even what you might call "a cautionary tale". Calvin isn't meant to be an Everyman figure. This is just one man's story. That's not to say there aren't more guys like him out there in the world, let alone out there on the roads. Who knows what's really going on in the heads of everyone else who's stuck in traffic with us? We can only hope that they're in their right minds and don't do something incredibly stupid out there on the freeway or city streets or even through our neighborhoods. We all have the capability to turn our vehicles, whether they're Mini-Cooper or ten-ton semis, into goddamn guided missiles out there. The vast majority of us don't because we're not nuts. But there are a lot more crazies than there used to be. That's not just because the population has increased. I think the percentage has gone up as well.

ETC: But you don't have to be crazy to have road rage.

SC: No, you don't. And it's really not difficult to see why it's become so abundant. It's an increasingly frustrating world and it can compounded behind the wheel of a car when you're stuck in traffic, dealing with shitty drivers and torn up roads that are constantly being repaired. That's a situation we have here in Portland. This is NOT a car friendly area and it's getting worse by the day. It really wouldn't be so bad if so many people didn't take driving for granted. Like Calvin says at one point, "It doesn't cost anything to pay attention." Aren't there enough distractions both in and out of the car without creating a bunch of new ones? We have the attention spans of fleas, like those nimrods who have a cell phone in one hand, a latte in the other and a rat face dog in their laps, just weaving all over the road, driving way below the speed limit because they are so wrapped up in their conversations to give a shit. How the hell is this twit steering? With her knees? Her elbows?

ETC: Maybe that's what the dog is for.

SC: You could be right. It's like the last thing on their minds is driving. It's an after thought if it's any kind of thought at all. And, from my observation and I am on the road more the average commuter, as far as cell phone offenders go, it's mostly women. This isn't to say guys don't talk on their phones too, but women seem to be more inclined to get involved in their phone calls than men. Guys, on the other hand, make up the vast majority of road ragers. Guys flip out in their vehicles because they think they can, as if cars are the last refuge for Manly Men. It's all about the illusion of power. They use their vehicles to intimidate and bully other drivers. Their competitive natures come to the forefront and the evening commute suddenly turns into a big dick swinging contest. More often than not, gasoline and testosterone turns into piss and vinegar. Again, from my personal observation, this seems to manifest itself predominantly in white males.

ETC: You talk about the Angry White Man Syndrome in your book.

SC: I do. I've noticed the influx of Angry White Men for quite some time. They're popping up all over the place. They used to be just Stupid White Men, but now they're just plain pissed because they consider themselves endangered species. They feel threatened by the changes in the world and that they'll no longer have the dominance they believe they have. They oppose diversity whether blatantly or secretly because that means they have to share the world instead of controlling it. So they hold all this tension in because they can't just lash out whenever they feel like it. Pretty soon, they're going to blow off that steam somehow, some way and it's going to be at a most inopportune time. In the book, Calvin is deathly afraid of becoming an Angry White Man and that fear is becomes one of his biggest obstacles in preventing that from happening.

ETC: "The only thing we have to fear... is fear itself."

SC:Was that supposed to be FDR?

ETC: Yeah.

SC: Sounded more like Katherine Hepburn.

TO BE CONTINUED

NEXT UP: FANTASY V.S. REALITY: THE FINAL BATTLE

RED ASPHALT NOW ON SALE EVERYWHERE, BUT ESPECIALLY HERE AND HERE

FOR MORE INFO VISIT MY WEBSITE

WRITTEN BY SCOTT CHERNEY