Selected WorksBooks
A World Made of Fire
Stella and Jacko, a witchy night of the soul V for Victor
Victor finds a monster in Mobile Bay, 1944 Tender
A boy (not Elvis) and his twin, and a magic guitar... Crazy in Alabama
Peejoe and Wiley, Uncle Dove, Aunt Lucille... Gone for Good
Superman isn't careful what he wishes for. One Mississippi
All about high school Movies
Crazy in Alabama
Sometimes you have to lose your mind to find your freedom. Billy and Jimmy
A movie project currently stuck in Development Hell Read to me, Mister!
Books for Kids
Two Joshua stories, one Bobbity story |
Billy and JimmyINT. WHITE HOUSE EAST ROOM - NIGHT Billy, in a powder-blue tux, bows deeply to the tiny KING, who wears a glittery chestful of medals and braid. KING: In my country the name of Billy Carter is well-known. Most famous brother of the esteemed President. BILLY: Well thank you, King, good to see you too. Y’all having fun in Washington? KING: Always. A beautiful city. BILLY: Just don’t try to buy a beer. You know some these hotels want four bucks for a goddamn Schlitz? The king looks quizzical. Sybil steps in to move Billy along. SYBIL: An honor to meet you, Your Highness. LATER Sybil strains to hear Jimmy’s speech from their table way at the back. Billy’s showing Amy how to shoot spitballs. Amy keeps missing, but Billy lands one on the neck of a dowager at the next table. Amy and Billy crack up. LATER Amy’s asleep. Billy’s tipsy, reared back in his chair. A proper MATRON at the table is going on about her trip. MATRON: I will never fly commercial again. You wouldn’t believe it, even in First Class! The woman next to me was up and down, up and down every fifteen minutes. BILLY: Hell, lady, give me a break! Did you ever stop and think maybe she just had the squirts? Everyone spits food across the table. INT. WHITE HOUSE CORRIDOR Two Secret Service agents help Billy down the hall. BILLY: What the hell is all the fuss, I didn’t say nothing! That old bag was going on and on -- SYBIL: That old bag owns the Washington Post! Excerpt (c) 2003 by Mark Childress. All rights reserved. May not be reproduced in any form without written permission of the author. |
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