Thursday, December 11, 2008

OTT: A COMEDY OF ANGER, PART I: THE THRILL OF MYSTERY!

A table center stage, two chairs on either side. At rise exciting music heralds an exciting event. An offstage announcer begins his announcing.

ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves and your loved ones for the fight of their lives! For tonight, we bring you the 25th Annual Bi-Weekly Semi-Pro Arm Wrestling Champeenship Fight Games! And this year is a spectacularly special one, with sibling rivalry as the theme. For the opponents are not only siblings, they're also rivals as well! In this corner, the number one favorite son loaded gun of an East-Coast champeen, Ken Ott! 

Ken enters with much pizzazz. 

KEN: That's right! I am the champeen! And I will take down any who challenge my champeenship! Any! Especially my loser-face sister. 

ANNOUNCER: Speaking of the loserface, here she is now! Hailing from the same womb which brought you Ken, the bitter, spitting, twisted sister of rage, Kim Ott!

Kim enters with just as much pizzazz. 

KIM: I'd like to set the record straight. I placed second in the Sister Face-Off 2005, that does not make me a loser-face. 

KEN: Loser-cough! Loser-cough! 

KIM: If you want to see a real loser's face, an entire loser body, complete with loser-arms and legs and a loser-digestive system, check this loser out! 

KEN: In your dreams, bozo! Take that! 

KIM: You're the bozo, and I mean Bozo the clown. You couldn't beat me in arm-wrestling with both hands tied behind your back. 

KEN: That was an unfair advantage and you know it. 

KIM: Ha! Remember what the Old Man said about unfairness. 

Behind them appears the Old Man. 

OLD MAN: Nothin' in life is unfair, and if anyone tells ya different, kick 'em in the neck! 

ANNOUNCER: Folks, either this excitement is contagious or my pink-eye is! You can feel the anger between these two radiating throughout the Old Man Memorial Stadium Arena Dome all the way into the parking ramp. The tension is so thick; you could cut it with a knife- a Ginsu knife! 

KEN: Who'd you have to bake cookies for to get into this champeenship, anyway? 

KIM: Your mom! 

KEN: Loser-face, she's your mom, too. Take that! 

KIM: Ooh, I swear to my sweet lord, I'm gonna smush you like a miniature pinscher. I'm so angry, I don't know which way is up and which way's Mecca! 

KEN: Remember what the Old Man said about anger. 

OLD MAN: Use it, but don't lose it. 

KIM: And I plan to use it... on you! 

KEN: Not if I use it first! Take that! 

ANNOUNCER: Folks, the action is heating up faster than a Sasquatch in the desert- the Gobi desert! But before we get to the main event, let's hear what our contenders have to say for themselves- and to each other! 

Ken rises, addresses the audience. 

KEN: Ken Ott, vital stats: 28 years old, Libra, one-eight-seven l-b-s, six-foot something or other, ATM PIN code none of your beeswax. Am I single? Yes. Am I wanted? You bet I am. Am I a hero? If you define hero the way I do, which is aggressive, triumphant, tall, angry, heroic, Libra, 28 year old, then absolutely yes. More importantly, I'm an Ott, which the Old Man defines this way. 

OLD MAN: O: Own yer opponent, liked a swiped library book. T: Take down yer enemies with the eye of the cougar, ears of the falcon, lips of the cobra, and forearms of the cougar. T: Tip exactly 12%, no more, no less. 

Ken sits, Kim rises and addresses the audience. 

KIM: I should dispel the rumors that surround the name Kim Ott. Yes, I once beat a man to the point he could only remember up to the age of five, but the man in question wasn't the president. Yes, I fed a school of piranhas to my ex-husband, but it was more of a brunch than a lunch. And yes, I've competed victoriously in seven continents, but not the seven you're thinking of. As the Old Man used to say, there's three things that make you an Ott. 

OLD MAN: O: Obliterate the opposition until even their dentist don't recognize 'em. T: Transform yer anger into a ball, a wrecking ball or a bowling ball, or one of them ball-shaped bombs with the fuses on top. T: Tie-dyed t-shirts are for hippie wusses and yuppie pusses. 

ANNOUNCER: Okay, we're all sitting on the edges of our seats here at the Stadium Arena Dome. The proprietors apologize and say they expect the rest of the seats to be completed mid-winter. In any event, we are gearing up for one heck of a fight tonight. One hell of a heck of a fight! Our two champeens are chomping at the bit to get started, and that is exactly what we will do- right after this station break! 

OLD MAN: Ken, Ken, get yer keister over here! 

KEN: What are you doing here? I thought you were dead. 

OLD MAN: I am dead, Ken, but you can't keep an Old Man like me down. Remember what I said: If yer gonna die, die fighting, then come back and kick some corporeal ass! 

KEN: You bet I will. 

OLD MAN: That's right, I didn't raise no fool. Now I want ya to look at yer sister. Forget she's yer kin, Ken, she's yer blood enemy today. I want ya to get angry. Real angry! See red, deep, dark red. And then I want ya to take that anger and do what? 

KEN: Use it. 

OLD MAN: What's that? I can't hear ya, boy! 

KEN: Use it! 

OLD MAN: And what aren't ya not gonna do? 

KEN: Lose it! 

OLD MAN: That's right. Make yer Old Man's ghost proud. 

KEN: You bet I will. 

Bell rings, Ken goes back to his corner. 

OLD MAN: Kim! Come lend yer ear to yer Old Man. 

KIM: I knew you'd come see me win. 

OLD MAN: Yeah, well, ya'd better beat that sorry excuse for a sibling yer fighting. 

KIM: You know me. 

OLD MAN: I do, Kim. I know yer of the "fairer sex" but ya fight tough and rumble, rough and tumble. Now I want ya to look at yer brother. Forget he's yer kin, Kim, he's yer blood enemy today. I don't have to tell ya to get angry, or what ya do with that anger. 

KIM: Use it. 

OLD MAN: And I don't even have to ask what ya ain't gonna do with it. 

KIM: Lose it. 

OLD MAN: Yer the spittin' image of yer Old Man, if he had girlie parts. Don't let him down. KIM: You know me. 

Bell rings, Kim goes back to her corner. 

ANNOUNCER: And we're back, folks. The station has fully broken and we're ready now for the match- the big match! A match made in heredity as brother is pitted against sister and only one can walk away a champeen! Are we ready, opponents? 

KEN: You bet I am! 

KIM: You know me! 

ANNOUNCER: All right, then. On your marks- 

Ken and Kim place their arms on the table. 

ANNOUNCER: Get set- 

Ken and Kim grab each other's hands. 

ANNOUNCER: Go! 

Bell rings. The fight begins. Much struggling. 

KEN: You're going down, Kim. All the way, down. Down to the deepest depths of loserdom. 

KIM: Oh, I'm going down, all right. But I'm taking you down first. And I'll be right behind you. 

KEN: Always behind, sis. Always last. 

KIM: No way, Ken. I'm the winner here and you know it. 

KEN: Don't get a swelled head over there. Remember what the Old Man said about swelled heads. 

OLD MAN: A swelled head makes you look foreign. 

KIM: I have to admit, that was a quote I never really got. 

KEN: I'm sure the Old Man's wisdom is lost on a girl, which explains both your girliness and your not getting his advice. Take that! 

KIM: I got it when there was something to get. You're the one who misinterpreted his words all the time. 

KEN: Please, you'd spend all day with your girlie friends, braiding each other's hair and dreaming about which pony you'd marry. 

KIM: Not even close! Besides, you remember what the Old Man said about ponies. 

OLD MAN: Ponies are the turds of stallions. 

Bell rings. 

ANNOUNCER: And it looks like a stalemate at the end of Round One. But it's certainly not for disinterest on the competitor's part. You can see the fury in the eyes of the Otts- the white-hot fury!

WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT? STAY TUNED FOR PART II!

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