If you
can believe it, Jak Klinikowski is
still spinning new yarns with Episode 7 of The Adventures of Ineeda
Willingbottom...
"High Noon in High Heels:
Showdown in Roswell"
by Jak Klinikowski
The signs read: “Get Out of Roswell Spawn of Satan,” “God
Hates Drag Queens,” “Cross Dresser, Don’t Cross,” and “Down With
Unwanted Aliens in Skirts.”Ineeda watched the small crowd marching in a tight circle on the tree-lined sidewalk in front of the UFO Museum and Gift Shop. The building, a converted two-story funeral parlor, was downtown on Main Street, next to the public library and Bob’s Big and Tall Boutique.
The actual museum was located on the first floor. With tasteful scientific displays and installations, it was a no-nonsense affair. The gift shop was off to one side. Iva Ruth’s second floor office was a completely different matter. It looked like a storehouse for all the exhibits, souvenirs, and collectables she didn’t have room for downstairs. Two large boxes of “moon rocks” sat in the corner by the door, while cases of “I’ve Had a Close Encounter of the Third Kind” bumper stickers, and green glowing alien buttons lined the opposite wall. Inflatable space men of every size and description hung from the beams in the high ceiling.
Ineeda peered down at the protesters through the mini-blinds of Iva Ruth’s office window. The group, lead by Terry’s Uncle Tobias T Turley, assembled in front of the museum at nine in the morning, and Ineeda was relieved to see that the initial group of twenty to twenty-five people had not grown over the last hour and a half.
“What time did you say the counter demonstrators would be
here?” asked Ineeda.“Around eleven,” said Iva Ruth sitting behind her large glass topped desk shaped like an Apollo space capsule. “We figured we’d let the riff raff walk off a little hostility before facing them head on.”
“We?”
“My dearest friend on the planet, Evelyn Anne, and me,” said Iva Ruth. “Last night she helped me round up quite a large number of Roswell’s finest citizens to assist us in sweeping away that trash littering my sidewalk. Our helpers are sneaking in the back entrance and gathering downstairs as we speak.”
“Why do they have to sneak in?” asked Ineeda.
“Because, Sweetie,” replied Iva Ruth, “we don’t want to lose the element of surprise. Evelyn Anne and I figured once everyone gets here, we’ll burst out the front entrance and overwhelm those curbside pea-brains.”
“Did I hear my name?”
A statuesque, if big-boned, woman entered Iva Ruth’s office. Her charcoal grey hair was pulled back so severely in a bun that she could almost pass for Asian.
“There you are,” said Iva Ruth. “Ineeda, I’d like you to meet my very best girlfriend, Evelyn Anne Pressedwood.”
Evelyn Anne stood eye-to-eye with Ineeda, and gave her a quick once over. Satisfied by her appraisal, Evelyn Anne extended the most diamond-covered hand Ineeda had ever seen.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Evelyn Anne. “Iva Ruth’s told me an awful lot about you, but I must confess words don’t do you justice.”
“Thank you, I think,” said Ineeda.
“I’m sorry,” said Evelyn Anne. “I’m sure that sounded terrible. I simply meant you are even more striking than Iva Ruth described.”
Well, at least the old gal’s diplomatic, thought Ineeda.
“You two sit down over here,” interrupted Iva Ruth. “Let’s go over our strategy for the counter attack.”
Evelyn Anne and Ineeda each took one of the seats on the opposite side of Iva Ruth’s space capsule. Walking to the desk, Ineeda couldn’t help but notice that Evelyn Anne’s midnight black pants suit was right off the Givenchy runway.
“Were you able to slip in unnoticed?” asked Iva Ruth“It was a breeze,” said Evelyn Anne. “Those idiots in front of the museum are so busy making fools out of themselves they plumb forgot to cover the rear entrance. Terry and Sammy are back there making sure only friendly faces get through, and Terry told me old Uncle Pete’s watching the front door to make sure none of that vermin tries to bring it inside. According to Sammy, there’s already over a hundred people gathered in the big meditation and viewing room you use to show NASA films, and I’m expecting at least that many more before we launch our assault.”
“Excellent,” said Iva Ruth. “Last night, after Terry and Ineeda went to bed, Pete, Sammy and I made up several Ineeda-positive signs for our supporters to carry. Once everyone’s assembled we’ll head out the front, and surprise the hell out of those misfits.”
“I just hope things don’t turn ugly,” said Ineeda. “Like I told you yesterday, Iva Ruth, I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”
“It seems to me, Ineeda,” said Evelyn Anne, “that Tobias Turley is the one causing all the trouble. I swear that man is so full of himself he needs an industrial strength enema.”
“And I’ll volunteer to hold the hose,” said Iva Ruth.
Iva Ruth and Evelyn Anne guffawed heartily, and Ineeda subsequently joined in. It was the first good laugh she’d had since leaving Dallas.
“If you two ever want to put together an act, I’ll be happy to book it,” said Ineeda, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You’re funnier than any two Queens I know.”
“We like to think of ourselves as the Queens of Roswell,” said Iva Ruth. “And we’re not about to let some uppity little jester like Toby disrupt our realm. You stop blaming yourself, Ineeda. This is between the honorable reverend and my family, and it’s been a long time coming.”
“She’s right, Ineeda,” added Evelyn Anne. “Tobias just thinks he can use you as an excuse to embarrass Iva Ruth and Terry.”
“I’m telling you right here and now,” said Iva Ruth. “The only thing that embarrasses me is that the idiot leading the goons downstairs is my precious Terry’s Uncle.”
“Once the son-of-a-bitch sees the kind of support I can muster, I’m hoping he’ll stop bothering us permanently. In fact, I want to thank you, Ineeda, for bringing the problem to a head. This ugly pimple has needed popping for quite a spell now. If you hadn’t come to town to meet Uncle Pete and me, God only knows how much more of Toby’s crap we’d of had to endure. I’m grateful to you Ineeda.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,”
“Surer than sure darling,” said Iva Ruth. “Now let’s head downstairs and rally our troops.”
* * *
“Are we going to allow Roswell to become a sanctuary for sex freaks?” demanded Reverend Turley.
“NO!” responded the two dozen members of his congregation gathered outside the UFO Museum and Gift Shop.
Tobias Turley stood on the lower steps leading to Iva Ruth’s establishment, a Bible under his left arm. His right fist pumped the air above the comb-over on his balding head. Tobias, like all the men in his family, had been an attractive man in his youth, but years of bitter self righteousness left his features hard and deeply lined. Even on those rare occasions when he attempted to smile, the sides of his mouth seemed to curve down, making him look like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
The small but vocal group stopped their circular march, and stood riveted on the sidewalk giving the barrel-chested preacher their complete attention.
“My disgusting homosexual Nephew, Terry, has brought his abomination here to Roswell to poison our community,” screamed Tobias. “Are we going to let him get away with it?”
“NO!” bellowed the crowd.
“It’s bad enough Roswell’s known as a haven for kooks and UFO fanatics. We can’t allow men dressed as women to over run our streets, to corrupt our children. You good people are doing the Lord’s work this morning, and you should be proud of yourselves. God is smiling on you.”
The faithful shouted enthusiastic “amens” and “yee-hahs.”
Tobias, dressed in a dated navy blue suit shiny from wear, a white shirt, and skinny black tie, bounced with excitement.
“Just let that he-she show its face,” cried a woman dressed in a poorly fitting, high collared, mud-brown dress. “I’ll beat it over the head with my Bible.”
“That’s the spirit, sister!” roared the reverend.
“I’ll do worse than hit it over the head,” bellowed a neck-less man in a coffee-stained pale blue shirt stretched so tight across his enormous belly that the buttons were threatening to explode off.
“God bless you, brother,” said Tobias. “I don’t advocate violence, but we have to make it plain. Roswell is a good Christian town, and we can not tolerate the presence of Terry Turley and his painted harlot-man.”
“Who the hell gave you the authority to speak for Roswell?” shouted Terry.
Tobias turned as his Nephew, accompanied by Iva Ruth,
moved from the entrance of the museum to the bottom steps where the
reverend stood. Uncle Pete, Sammy and a large cross-section of
Roswell’s citizens streamed out of the building behind the two.
Housewives and car-salesmen, ranch-hands and greasy-spoon waitresses
waved signs bearing supportive slogans: “Down With Hate and Bigotry,”
“God Loves Gays Too,” and “We All Have the Right to Wear
Dresses.” Well-dressed women with fresh from the salon hair, and
retired bankers itching from inactivity held aloft a banner reading,
“Roswell is a Live and Let Live Town. Welcome Ineeda!”Tobias’s eyes shot open twice their normal size. He darted to the curb behind his followers, securing a buffer between his band of hate-mongers, and an irate Terry.
“Don’t come near me, you queer,” shrieked Tobias over the heads of his congregation. “It sickens me to look upon you.”
“The only thing making anyone sick around here,” said Iva Ruth, keeping a firm grip on Terry’s arm, “is the idea that you, or your little clan of nincompoops, speak for our town.”
“YEAH!” roared the much larger group.
“And what a pathetic lot of gutter-snipes you are. I can’t believe you hypocrites have the nerve to come here. “Why, you there, Dwayne Cuttlebutt,” continued Iva Ruth pointing at the neck-less man, “we all know you’re the town flasher. Do you really think that rubber Reagan mask you wear fools anyone? And look at you, Lois Cravetts, dressed in that frumpy brown excuse for a dress. Most of Roswell’s aware of how you put on a teased up slut-red wig and hang out at the Union 76 truck stop. I’ve overheard many a trucker, visiting my museum, talk about that belt you try to pass off as a skirt and your crotch-less panties. Seems your favorite past time involves sitting in the drivers lounge, crossing and uncrossing your legs.
Once again Ineeda stood in Iva Ruth’s window watching the events, unfolding below. Evelyn Anne stood next to her.
“I’ve got to go out there and defend myself,” said Ineeda. “I feel like a complete coward hiding in here.”
“Ineeda,” said Evelyn Anne, “Terry’s worried someone might try and hurt you. Don’t you think you ought to honor his wishes, and wait inside?”
“I know how Terry feels, Evelyn Anne, but I can take care of myself. I’m going out there.”
“Dressed like that?” said Evelyn Anne
“And what’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Nothing at all if you’re headed to Cowboy Cheerleader’s boot camp,” responded Evelyn Anne. “I’m not trying to make a judgment call, Ineeda. You have beautiful legs, and I’m certain that the denim mini-dress you’re wearing with all the lovely rhinestone accents thrills them in Dallas, but this is just a little old hick town. This community may be reasonably tolerant and accepting, but it has its limits.”
“Well, it’s all I’ve got, so it’ll have to do.”
“Hold on just a second Ineeda,” said Evelyn Anne. “I’ve got an idea.”
Evelyn Anne walked a circle around Ineeda, studying her shape from every angle.
“Yep,” said Evelyn Anne, “I think I’m right.”
“Right about what?” asked Ineeda.
“You and I are the same size. Sugar, follow me to the ladies room.”
No one noticed the tall blonde in the dark designer glasses standing behind the large crowd gathered on the steps of Iva Ruth’s museum. Ineeda preferred her flashy attire to Evelyn Anne’s conservative suit, but she had to admit there was a lot to be said for an incognito ensemble.
Ineeda was overwhelmed by the throng of people outside. When she’d gone to the ladies room to exchange outfits with Evelyn Anne there’d only been the two groups of protestors. Now several curious bystanders were watching the proceedings, and their number was growing. Ineeda sincerely hoped the situation didn’t get out of hand. She slowly worked her way through the mass of people, being careful not to get hit in the head by a “God Wears a Dress” sign, until she stood unnoticed on the step behind Terry.
Amazing, thought Ineeda.
“You people are in serious need of salvation,” shouted Tobias over the jeering voices of the counter-demonstrators. Still buffered by his congregation the preacher continued to spew his venom.
“Homosexuality is an unforgivable sin and you fools are risking the wrath of God by defending its perpetrators.”
“Bull! Horse-crap! What an asshole!” rang out from the crowd behind Terry and Iva Ruth.
Ineeda was genuinely touched by the show of solidarity from Iva Ruth’s troops. She never imagined such a large group of average straight Americans lending their voices in support for her. She realized that her opinion of these people had been overly influenced by one-too-many big-mouthed bigots. Maybe middle-America didn’t have such a red neck after all.
“There she is!” screamed a woman in the reverend’s circle.
Ineeda’s heart began racing, but the woman wasn’t
pointing at her. Ineeda, along with everyone else, spun around as
a lady dressed in a rhinestone-encrusted denim outfit with matching
silver cow-gal hat emerged from the museum entrance.“Abomination!” yelled Reverend Turley.
“Filthy Drag Queen!” spat Lois Cravetts
“He-Whore!” roared Dwayne Cuttlebutt.
“What?” said Evelyn Anne as she removed Ineeda’s jeweled sun-glasses. She batted her eyelashes demurely. “Are y’all talking about me? I was just inside using the little girl’s room.”
“That’s just Evelyn Anne Pressedwood,” barked the preacher. “The reprehensible creature hasn’t got the nerve to face us.”
“Actually,” said Ineeda, stepping around Terry, “I’ve been standing here quite some time.”
Both groups of protestors were suddenly silent.
Terry wrapped his large arm around Ineeda’s waist and whispered in her ear.
“Baby, I thought you agreed to wait inside.”
Ineeda gently removed Terry’s arm and looked him in the eye.
“Terry, you’re marrying a Drag Queen, not a chicken. I know how to defend myself, I always have. I think it’s time I had a few words with your Uncle and his followers.”
“But—but--”stammered Terry.
“She’s right Terry,” interrupted Iva Ruth. “Let her do what she has to do.”
“I’ll be okay, Terry,” said Ineeda. She stroked her cowboy’s cheek.
“Disgusting,” grunted Tobias.
Ineeda marched the short distance to the scowling, pinch-faced congregation. As a group they reminded Ineeda of a school of hungry piranha, anxiously waiting to rip the flesh off an unsuspecting victim, but individually they were about as threatening as a goldfish. The members bunched tightly together preventing any possibility of Ineeda reaching their beloved pastor.
“Now who’s afraid to face who?” said Ineeda.
“Make way brothers and sisters,” said Tobias. “I must confront the sodomite.”
The faithful parted just enough for the preacher to squeeze through. Once they were face to face Ineeda could see the family resemblance between Tobias and Terry.
“You are a disgrace to humanity,” said the reverend. “You are repulsive.”
“Honey,” growled Ineeda. “I don’t think so.” She snapped her fingers in Tobias’s face and cocked her other hand on her hip.
“The only thing repulsive around here is that cheap suit you’re wearing. You look like you done dug up a corpse and stole his clothes.”
The troops behind Iva Ruth exploded with laughter.
“How dare you speak to me that way!”
“I’ll speak to you any way I want. I’ve got just as much right to be here and speak my mind as you have to be a grave robber. But take my advice, next time you go clothes shopping, try the Episcopal cemetery. I think you’ll find a much higher quality of goods there.
“Why you bitch!” screamed the preacher.
“Oh please, Mary! Is that the best you can do?” asked Ineeda, pointing her long finger at the preacher’s chest.
Before Ineeda could blink, Tobias hauled off and slapped her across the face.
Terry lunged for his Uncle, and Ineeda prepared to kick the bastard’s ass, but they were too late. A broad shouldered stranger with thick silver hair and matching mustache grabbed Tobias by the back of his jacket and spun him around
“Who do you think you are striking my baby like that?”
Without another word, the rugged gentleman punched Reverend Turley square in the jaw. Knocked unconscious, the preacher collapsed in the gutter.
Ineeda stared at her handsome defender in disbelief.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing here?”
“My God, what a hunk,” said Iva Ruth to Evelyn Anne who was now standing beside her. “Why didn’t anybody tell me Ineeda’s father was a walking, talking Marlboro Man?”