1. Interior: Dogbad Saloon in the late afternoon.
Here we meet the Saloon Landlord, former Olympian bronze medalist
Theodore Simon Alvin David “Discus Ted” O’Neil. Discus Ted wastes
no words in simultaneously describing his mood and his moniker:
“I am Discus Ted. You are scaring my patrons.” These remarks are
directed on the endeaffened ears of Señors Hsss and Hoss, who have
lowered their consciousness by toasting and drinking each other
into a solemn stupor.
2. Having partook Discus Ted’s micro-brewing, Hsss & Hoss
experience his macro-bouncing. This isn’t the first time he’s
drop-kicked them both out, and it won’t likely be the last.
3. Refuse is hurled to underline the point.
4. Hsss & Hoss consider the awakening a coarse one.
Hsss: “Talk about non grata!” Hoss: “How, very, very rude!”
5. Señor Hsss examines his soiled and crushed sombrero.
He sees right away it will require expensive re-blocking.
What an inconvenience! He may have to send it abroad.
What will he wear? It’s the only hat he’s got.
Señor Hoss asks: “Where to now?” It’s getting late.
6. It doesn’t take Hsssy long to think of a plan:
“Less goap the mountain and wash the sun sit!”
7. Hoss thinks this is a Boney Day and says so. Pleased with
his idea, Señor Hsss congratulates himself: “Farm Edible!”
8. The sum is sitting in the distant maghreb, but it may as well
sit right on top of Señors Hsss and Hoss as they pass beyond
the town’s outer limits. If they notice the notice posted by Dogbad
Sheriff D D Divtag, we don’t notice:
“DON’T LET THE SUN SET ON YOU HERE, REPTILE.”