WILLIE THE GREAT (Part 3)

The jet arrived just as they had said, but Willie had his head in the clouds long before the plane took off.

A limo was waiting at the landing field, and Willie was welcomed by Carla, a lovely young woman handpicked for this job. She was to make Willie feel just like he belonged. As they stopped for a coffee on the way to the studio, Willie had goose pumps as she told of the possibilities of his story. And so then on to a meeting in the plush office of the CEO of MGM-- writers and a director sat in. Willie took center stage as he began his story. He could not help but notice the genuine interest the writers were taking as he talked. His ego was growing steadily.

Juan's Story (Part 2)

Melan was from the small village of Ataxia, Mexico. Melan was always on the lookout for "Mr. Right". Melan stopped in at La Taca, the local pub, one innocent Saturday night. And this decision is where my existence eventually and eventfully stemmed from. As she entered, there sat a single man at the bar. Why not? She took a stool two seats away and ordered a marguerita. Billlie Bob turned toward her and smiled-- she smiled back. “My name's Billie Bob Odeen, and I’m from Louisiana.“ 

A conversation had begun and the more Billie Bob talked, the more comfortable she felt. Maybe it was his slow, smooth drawl, or maybe it was the fact he was a handsome southern country gentleman. Either way, Melan was beginning to like this man. After a few drinks they parted, but not before Billie had secured a dinner date for tomorrow evening.

Melan had been on the lookout for a suitable partner, so after a whirlwind courtship, they were married. At last, Billie Bob had found some peace and happiness and a perfect place to settle down. Billie Bob, whose parents died when he was just a child, spoke lovingly of his grandpa who raised him. He told of the little Cajun Restaurant he owned in Oleana, Louisiana, simply called Justin‘s.

But who was Billie Bob Odeen, and what was he doing in this small Mexican village?

Willie Cripps Has Lunch (Part 1)

Noon, Friday, time for lunch. 

Willie opened the cabinet and selected a can of Johnson “SECRET RECIPE” Crab Soup from among the 20 or 30 cans on the shelf- his standard Friday noon meal for the past ten years- and opened it. As he dumped it in his dented little saucepan, he noticed a small plastic packet floating on top. Willie fished it out, cut it open, and pulled out what appeared to be a note. He unfolded the damp scrap. The paper was darkened, making it difficult to read. Willie held it to the light only to find out it was written in Spanish. As near as he could determine it read, “Ayude por favor. Esta preso en una cucina se sopa Johnson." Then on the back, “245 Beal St. Macon Georgia". Lucky break for Willie, his girlfriend, Pearlena, or Pearl for short, grew up in Nogales. She could read it for him. Willie had a date with her when she got off work at six this evening. The translation would have to wait till then. In the meantime, his curiosity was doing handsprings.