volume one IN THE D U D L E Y C L A R K - Ohio Vine Tours

Pete rolls the baggie tight, slips it back inside the wooden box
and slides the lid closed.
Perching the joint upon his papery lips, he settles the box on
the floor behind his chair. Out of sight.
Roy wonders what other marvels must lurk on the far side of
Pete’s chair.
snap
A flame pops out of a yellow Bic lighter.
The shadows that chase around Pete’s face when he lights the
joint give Roy the heebie-jeebies.
Pete takes a long drag and passes his hand-wrapped
handiwork, with its glowing ember eye, to Roy.
Roy accepts the joint and brings it to his chubby lips.
Feeling like he must look stupider than usual, he sucks some
smoke into his lungs and fights to keep it there.
He is startled when Pete’s hand, all stretchy and deformed,
zooms out of nowhere towards his face.
Pete only wants the joint back, but Roy thinks maybe he
wants his nose.
As Pete takes another toke, he picks up the VCR remote and
points it at the TV.
The screen lights up, turning the room blue, and sucks Roy’s
eyes towards it like a spider dragged down a drain.
Pete fast-forwards to the title of the picture they are about to
watch.
BLAZING SADDLES
Roy’s heard of it, but never seen it.
A bullwhip snaps.
The colors seem more colorful, the brightness more brighter,
the music more music-y—
Roy has this realization—he’s stoned.
And he’s still alive.
He can’t feel his hands his legs feel like rubber his mouth is
dry as a bone. Like, full of talcum powder.
For the first time and it’s a great time and it’s too late baby
now it’s too late—
2 0 ROY ROGERS IN THE 21ST CENTURY