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By       Message John Blackstone       (Page 1 of 11 pages)     Permalink    (# of views)   No comments

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As our scene opens, the sun is just about ready to set on the little town of Montague up in North Texas where the Red River separates God's country from Oklahoma. Two sisters are talking on the phone. Wanda, the eldest, is driving her Dodge Ram on the way home from work and Molly, naturally the youngest, is out snapping green beans on her back porch.

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"Hello Wanda, whatcha doing?"

"Hey Molly I'm all done at the mill and headed home to get Marvin Lynn's supper. Say, listen; are we all gonna meet up at your house tomorrow night and watch Obama get his ass kicked?

"Far as I know it's all on.

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"Any idea who's gonna be there?"

Well let's see, besides me and Will, brother Bob and his sh*t ass teenager are going to be there - his wife too, unfortunately."

"Amen to that. That b*tch's hobby is scaring warts off toads."

"What to do Wanda, Bob married her drunk and he's having to live with her sober. That's what crossing county lines at two in the morning will get you."

"Oh Molly, almost forgot, I'm bringing my neighbor lady and her boyfriend. That okay?

"Tommy Jo and Ray isn't it? Okay, just let Ray know we have a bathroom in the house. He doesn't need to sneak out back and pee on the bird bath like he did on the 4th."

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The conversation done, the sisters go about their business. Sister Wanda heads home to fix supper for her second husband, Marvin Lynn, and Sister Molly, (the younger one don't forget) sets herself down to figure out what to feed nine people. Now don't go thinking this is easy. When family and friends gather up in Montague, Diet Pepsi and pretzels don't cut it. Nope, takes real food to feed folks that have grown up on chicken fried steak, fried okra, corn on the cob and fresh green beans.

"Whoops! Did I say nine people? Almost forgot Molly's neighbor across the street. Everybody calls her Ms T because she taught school in Montague for donkey's years. Pensioned off and widowed, her only relative is one son up in New York City. Like all small towns, old people are treated with an extra helping of respect.

Everybody thought Ms T was good people. So it was natural that she be invited to come over on election night and join the party. She didn't talk much and that was to be expected widow ladies weren't supposed to jabber.

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Retired Oil Executive interested in current politics

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