The word conjures up images of glitz and glamour and moviestars and expensive cars and paparazzi chasing moviestars driving their expensive cars. It's where many great movies have been made, like Gone With the Wind, or Little Miss Broadway. But it's also the place that gave rise to some pretty crummy movies, such as Jaws 3-D, or The Bad News Bears in Breaking Training, or some other completely worthless sequel. And let's be realistic - the sequel was invented by "Hollywood" because a particular movie was good and made a lot of money and "Hollywood" wanted to make even more money on the movie without any effort. Or plot, for that matter.
And it's in this "Hollywood" spirit that I provide this blog entry for the very nice Teresa and her loyal followers. Merry Christmas!
“Where is he?” bellowed Comet.
Huey looked up from his copy of the Daily Racing Form, clearly irritated at the impatient reindeer. “He’ll be here, he’ll be here,” he assured him. “S.C. says that if he screws up again this week, he’s gettin’ coal.”
Comet glared at the elf. “I’ve been hanging around Hollywood Park for a week! The Starlet could've been a cinch! 1:40.54 is nothing. I can go from Poughkeepsie to Cheyenne in that time.”
Huey snorted. “Aaah, c’mon, Comet. Country Star was impressive. And the odds on Grace and Power gave Mrs. C. a nice little hit on the exacta.” Huey shrugged and returned his attention to the Form. “We’ll get ‘em this week in the CashCall Futurity. We just need to get a rider.”
Comet let out a frustrated huff. He desperately wanted to race. And he had to race before Christmas Eve or else he’d probably lose his job to Rudolph. It was common knowledge on the sleigh team that Rudolph had been bucking for a regular gig for years and Santa thought very highly of him, ever since that one foggy Christmas Eve. “Red nose, my antlers”, Comet muttered to himself, “more like brown nose.”
All of a sudden, his thoughts were interrupted with the arrival of a jockey.
“Hey, is this the mount?”
Startled, Huey dropped his racing form and looked up. “You P Val?”
The jockey gave a curt nod and glanced down at Huey. He quickly turned his attention to Comet. “This isn’t a horse!”
“Sure it is,” Huey assured him.
“Well, it’s the ugliest horse I’ve ever seen.”
Comet started to say something but Huey quickly reached up and stroked his muzzle to keep him quiet. “Just depends on how you look at him,” he feigned sweetly.
P Val looked the animal over carefully. Then looked back down at Huey and said, “I can’t ride this horse – or whatever it is - in the CashCall Futurity, and I’m not riding for a dwarf.”
“Elf,” Huey corrected.
The jockey’s eyebrows shot up. “Elf?”
Huey nodded and wiggled his pointed ears in confirmation.
P Val stared at Huey. Then he stared at Comet. What in the world is that around Comet’s neck? Sleigh bells?!? He shook his head in disbelief. “What’s his name? Dasher?” he asked, half-joking.
“Pfft,” Huey sneered. “Dasher is a lazy bum who lounges around all day long, watching Oprah and Judge Judy, snacking on reindeer feed. This is Comet.”
The guy’s insane, thought P Val. “He can run, huh?”
“Run?? Oh man, he can fly!” Huey proclaimed.
While P Val contemplated the situation, Huey hastily decided to sweeten the deal. “If you ride Comet, I can make that whole Nakatani fist fight thing go away.”
“What?”
“You know, make it disappear,“ continued Huey, and then lowering his voice, “That whole Naughty List stuff. I know someone who can take care of it. Just ride Comet. Easy. You ride, we have our picture taken in the winner's circle, I cash in some nice winning tickets, Comet and I head back home, and we can all have a Merry Christmas."
6 comments:
When can we expect chapter 3? Don't keep us waiting too long!
Sue! Thanks for making Christmas wishes come true!
I feel like the folks in Victorian England, eagerly waiting for the next installment of Dickens or Trollope...
More More More!!
I can't wait for the rest!
Yes, Sue, I NEED Chapter 3!
Just like Rudolph, this story will go down in history!
I'm patiently waiting . . . . .
Its even better when you pretend Burl Ives is reading the story aloud - "Brrrrrrrrrrr!"
Bah, humbug
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