Rotten Lemonade

Farmer Brown finishes building a scarecrow with a jack o lantern head in the middle of his cornfields. He crosses his arms and stands back to admire it- when from the jaggedly carved mouth of the jack o lantern comes a raspy voice not unlike Farmer Brown's.

Scarecrow:
Why don't you take a picture?

Farmer Brown:
Whoa-what the?

Scarecrow:
Oh silly me- you probably don't have a camera.

Farmer Brown:
You- I- what-

Scarecrow:
Oh silly me- you probably don't know what a camera is.

Farmer:
What in the hell-

Scarecrow:
He speaks! What you just did there with your mouth is called talking.

Farmer:
Wha-

Scarecrow:
OK I get it- you're wondering why that incredibly handsome scarecrow you just painstakingly constructed is berating you right? Well Farmer Brown it's not that I don't appreciate it- in fact I think you did a bang up job- especially on the old noggin you gave me.

Farmer Brown:
Thank-

Scarecrow:
Don't mention it skinny. Now to answer the question that's most likely racing through your empty head. I would like to think that I am a symbol of an old, dumb farmer's duality- that side of him that's been aching to have it's say sense you laid that black hooker while you where in New York to attend your brother's funeral.

Farmer Brown:
You-

Scarecrow:
Yeah, I know about it. I also know about those guilty jerk off sessions in the shower after you would sneak a peek at your thirteen year old niece's pink panties while she slept in the guest room while you're brother and his wife where visiting- oh man you fucked her in that wormy brain of yours more times than you or I would ever want to count.

Farmer Brown:
This- this isn't real.

Scarecrow:
You're probably right- but then again you might be wrong- why don't you go confer with that plumper wife in there- and try not to mistake her for one of the heifers in the barn- go on- tell her how the scarecrow you built is talking to you. That woman is so ready to have you institutionalized that you'll be clad in hospital blues before it's time to slop the pigs. After all she needs some time alone with that big black vibrator you hear buzzing every other night.

Farmer Brown:
What do you-

Scarecrow:
Want? I don't want any thing- except to see you happy skinny.

Farmer Brown:
W- Why?

Scarecrow:
Because you're not- and whether I am really talking or I am not it doesn't change the fact that you are not a happy man- so- you could run away and forget that there's a talking scarecrow in you're cornfields and convince yourself that it's happening just because you didn't have your usual fourth cup of instant coffee-or- you could sit out here for a few minutes and listen to what I have to say.

Farmer Brown:
Why- in perfect hell would I listen to a scarecrow?

Scarecrow:
That's a good question- and I'm going to answer it- but first I want you plant the seat of those denim overalls on the ground- go on.

Farmer Brown sits.

Scarecrow:
Good. Now to answer you're question. You should listen to me because- well- for the simple reason that- what have you got to lose at this point in your dead end life? Every day you open that closet to get that shit kicker straw hat and the first thing your eyes dart to is that dusty shotgun you're brother gave you.

Farmer Brown:
But-

Scarecrow:
Shut up- I said you didn't have anything to lose by listening to me- you have everything to lose by opening that big fucking mouth of yours and trying to convince me- and yourself for that matter that the sun will always be shining on that already red neck of yours. So shut up.

Farmer Brown:
OK.

Scarecrow:
Good. Now- are you familiar with the American dream Farmer Brown?

Farmer Brown:
I don't know-

Scarecrow:
Well- the typical American dream is that if you work hard enough- and if you are brave enough- you can make it- and by making it I mean that you have more money than you're cocksucker neighbor.

Farmer Brown:
I don't have a neighbor.

Scarecrow:
I didn't mean just you dumb fuck- I mean generally that it's the American spirit to try and compete with everybody around you- every American wants to be on top- but what about you Farmer Brown- you didn't dream of being the richest- or the most powerful- or the smartest- no you have the simpleton's American dream.

Farmer Brown:
The what?

Scarecrow:
You know it skinny. Sitting on your front porch that you made yourself- gazing at your forty acres of beautiful land- and drinking fresh squeezed lemonade- sound familiar? That because that is everlasting visual representation of the simpleton's American dream- and you know why you know it?

Farmer Brown:
Because-

Scarecrow:
Rhetorical skinny. You know it because you are a simpleton- and do you know why you're a simpleton? Because you're drunken fuck head of father was a simpleton- and you- being the firstborn, and the stupidest- you idolized that sorry excuse for a father, husband, and a human being. While you're brothers went into business together in New York to work on the American dream, you stayed here in Iowa with an abusive woman who can't have kids- which means that you'd feel guilty leaving her- to work on a dying corn field and try to achieve the simpleton's American dream- am I right so far?

Farmer Brown:
Well-

Scarecrow:
I thought so- well listen to me Farmer Brown. The lemonade has gone rotten, the porch is termite food and the few acres you've got are dying quicker than a skinny puppy in the red desert.

Farmer Brown:
The crop is picking up you know-

Scarecrow:
Shut up. Rationalizing is you're favorite shield- but that shield is splintered now- so just keep your goddamn mouth shut. That's the last time I'm going tell you skinny. Keep listening.

Farmer Brown:
OK

Scarecrow:
Good. Now lets move on to you're trip to New York- Chastity- sweet, sweet Chastity. You feel pretty guilty about that- but it's not even the fact that you fucked around on you're wife- or you fucked around on you're wife on the weekend of you're brother's funeral- it was the fact that you loved that fuck so much- and the fact that you loved it there in New York and the fact that you absolutely did not want to leave.

Farmer Brown:
You're right.

Scarecrow:
Fucking A I'm right. Now- I'm going to ask you a question- so open you're ears.

Farmer Brown:
OK

Scarecrow:
What the fuckare you going to do now skinny?

-End? Let me know.-