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Lighthearted Scenes
Created for Albert Salmi
By His Fans
Albert had a wonderful sense of humor, but he very rarely had a chance to show it to us. Let’s be his script writers and give him some roles that he could’ve really had fun with!
Ballad of Albert
Albert Settles Actors’ Residuals
Albert on The Beverly Hillbillies
Jonny Cobb Sketch
Cliffordville Sketch
Albert and Dino
Cliffordville Revisited
The Devil and Mr. Feathersmith
Power Play Revisited
Something Big – Revisited
Would you like to write a comedy scene for Albert? Feel free to contribute your ideas. Contact Sandra Grabman at srgrabman@cableone.net.
Something Big – Revisited
By Klaus D. Haisch
Albert’s was a great character in the 1971 movie something big, but it was a supporting role. His story was the subplot. Let’s fix that. Let’s rewrite it so Albert’s character has the lead:
This story takes place in 1870.
Cast of Main Characters, and the Actors who portray them –
1) JONNY COBB, lovable outlaw rogue. 6’2”. Albert Salmi was 43 when this movie was made in 1971, but in this story he is 25.
2) JOE BAKER, outlaw rogue, leader of a gang. 6’0”. Dean Martin was 54 when this movie was made in 1971, but in this story he is 30.
3 & 4) POLLY and CARRIE STANDALL, two man-hungry (to the max) sisters. Joyce van Patten and Judi Meredith.
5) SHIRLEENA the Stagecoach Lady: big, blonde and buxom. Shirleena Manchur.
6) COLONEL MORGAN, the Cavalry was his whole life, except for his lovely wife who lived back East. Brian Keith.
7) MARY ANNA MORGAN, his wife of 30 years, one month each year she’d visit her husband, and let him soldier the other 11 months – now she was going to take him home. Honor Blackman.
8) BOOKBINDER, a scout who is so inept, the Colonel sometimes wonders whose side he’s on. Ben Johnson.
Famous Quote:
On the invention of the Crossbow, a weapon designed to pierce metal
armor: “This is such a terrible weapon, it will surely end all
war.” – the Holy Roman Emperor Conrad III of Germany, 1138
A.D.
New Invention:
The Gatling gun – an early prototype machine gun having a
cluster of barrels that can be fired in sequence as the cluster is rotated.
(patented 1862) Named after the inventor: Richard Jordan Gatling
(1818-1903).
And now, our story begins. . .
OMNISCIENT NARRATOR: The year is 1870 – the Civil War had ended 5 years ago, but New Mexico would not become a state until the next century. The U.S. Cavalry fort at Dry Wells in the New Mexico Territory is commanded by Colonel Morgan, who is just days away from retirement, and his wife is on her way by stagecoach to escort him back East from his desert post.
JONNY COBB: Enough of the omni-shunt narrator. I’ll tell this muh way. As I’m talkin’ to ya now, there’s 48 states in the U.S. of A. But back then, I was gettin’ squeezed out. Cause I couldn’ live in no civilized place, ya see. I was down ta livin’ in a 4-territory area, right where the 4 corners of Utah, Colorady, Arizona and New Mex’co come together. Now, to the east of where I lived then, an’ a bit south, there was the great state of Texas, and that was the problem – it become the 28th state in 1845. I kint live in no state, just terr’tories. To the east of me, and a bit north, was Kansas, but that become the 34th state in 1861. Only place I could hide out, I mean LIVE around theres was the Oklahoma territory, the small panhandle that run between them 2 states. Oh, there was some great folks runnin’ around there, like Belle Starr and her Injun husband Blue Duck, though I don’t rightly knows for shure if’n he was her husband #2, or #3, or if for that matter they was married legal or not atall. But, on muh horse, ridin’ like the wind, through the Oklahoma panhandle, that’s how I come out here.
Yep, Utah, Colorady, Arizona and New Mex’co, the last of the 4 territories in the southern half of the Old West. Now, if’n I went fu’ther west, I’d hit Nevada, which become the 36th state in 1864, and all the way out, next to the ocean, was Califor-nigh-ay, but that become the 31st state in 1850, right after the Gold Rush an’ the 49ers. And, no suh, no ma’am, ain’t no STATE a rightful place fer me ta live. Now, I was stuck in the territories.
I had me some money, which I got. . . well, never mind HOW I got it, let’s just say I had me some money. And a whole lot of time on muh hands, cause I couldn’t go ta no town, nor no place I was knowd. I’d send this guy called Moon, an owlhoot that I was in cahoots with, to get vittles and booze and cigars. He run the errands fer me. All I could do was remember how much fun I’d used to’ve had.
Oh hell, I’d knowd everybody in the Old West – good old Keeno Nash, though he was a sad feller, like he was borned under a Dark Star. An’ I got along great with Sam Gallatin, though he hardly got along with nobody – he was, ya might say, a lone wolf, or even the Last Wolf; kind of a dusty feller, but I liked him. Then there was good ole Brother Thaddeus, named after th’ Patron Saint o’ lost causes. Sometimes he’d try to change my stealin’ and cheatin’ ways, and I’d cuss him out a blue streak, but he never got mad. He’d just say, ‘Why, bless ya.’ Most even-tempered feller I ever knowd.
NARRATOR: Well, at the Fort, the Colonel got a visitor. The Colonel had been at the Fort for 30 years – 10 years as an enlisted man, then 10 years as an officer, and finally 10 years as Commanding Officer. And, at least once or twice a year, for the last 30 years, he’d run into Junior Frisbee and his shiftless partner Bill. This time Frisbee rode into the fort on his horse, with his dead partner tied to his horse. Frisbee cuts the rope, and unceremoniously dumps his dead partner Bill on the ground. Colonel Morgan is watching.
FRISBEE: This here dirty old bag of bones was my partner for 30 years!
MORGAN says he ought to bury him. Morgan doesn’t care who shot him (it was Baker, for kicking his little dog Tuffy), he just asks: “How many men do you suppose Bill shot?”
FRISBEE, taken aback a bit: Why, none that didn’t deserve it.
MORGAN: Aha. . . and how many men have YOU shot?
FRISBEE: None that didn’t deserve it. And I never shot religious folks, neither, I was very particular about that. [short pause while he remembers] Well, a Baptist got in the way once. . .
When Morgan says he will do nothing about it, Frisbee threatens to get someone who can write, and he’ll send a letter of complaint to Washington, D.C. – a letter with fine, delicate handwriting, because that’s all they understand in Washington. (Of course, even with the Pony Express, it would take several months for a letter to get to Washington and back, so this threat means nothing to Morgan.)
Inside his office, Colonel Morgan crosses another day off the calendar, putting a big “X” through Saturday, April 16, 1870. Yesterday was Good Friday, and tomorrow would be Easter Sunday. (There will be a full moon tonight – Easter is always the first Sunday after the first full moon in Spring.) “Thirty years,” Colonel Morgan says to himself. Then he thinks: 30 years of living in the desert, 30 years of serving in this fort, 30 years of the likes of Junior Frisbee and Bill, and the 100s of other outlaws like him – 30 years of being with his wife only one month a year. Yeah, he thinks to himself, time to retire, and move back East. . . time to enjoy his remaining years, living on the small pension he’ll get as a retired officer, and being with Mary Anna, his lovely wife. Morgan sends for Bookbinder. Morgan is concerned that he hasn’t heard any news about Baker and his gang in 4-5 months.
MORGAN: Where does he make his base?
BOOKBINDER: He ain’t got none. Gets around like a fever and lives on a rock. Word has it he’s planning something big.
MORGAN: Bookbinder, you do work for us, do you not? You are employed by the U.S. Cavalry as a scout?
BOOKBINDER: Scout – Cavalry – yeah.
MORGAN: Well, then, do some scouting! Find out what Baker is planning to do!
But, all this doesn’t really have anything to do with Jonny Cobb, except to show the kind of man (Joe Baker) that Jonny was dealing with.
JONNY COBB: Enough nare-ray-shun! Now, let me tell ya th’ important stuff! So there I was, me an’ Moon, out in the middle of nowhere – an’ I mean nowheres – waitin’ for Baker. I waited a coupla hours, with no one ta talk to. Moon don’t talk much. Even when he does, he’s not much fer conversation. He’s a book reader. (I spit, ‘cause I’m chewin’ tobacco.) I onest asked him how he got the name Moon. Said he was borned at night, under a moon. Showed me a book with a picture of th’ moon, and a bunch of writin’. Book said somethin’ about the moon being “Hecate”. So’s I give him the nickname Heck-ett.
Well now, when Baker and his gang of a dozen or so rode up, th’ fust thing Baker did was askt me a stupid question, “Why couldn’t we have met at Badwater, or some civilized place?”
Well now, a lot of towns in th’ Old West had colorful names like Tombstone and Dry Gulch and th’ like. Badwater was kind of a common name, ‘specially round here. There was a coupla Badwaters in New Mex’co, and more in Arizona. And a Badwater in the salt flats of Death Valley, Califor-nigh-ay, where I hear tell it gets up to 134 degrees in the summer, though I’d like to know what kind of fool hangs around there with a thermom’ter to measure it.
Well now, I just told him, “I could get SHOT in a civilized place.” And then we jawed a bit. I told him, “Heard you were plannin’ somethin’ big.”
And Baker says, “Where’d you hear that?”
And I says, “On the wind.”
And Baker says, “You oughtta stay outa the wind, Cobb, you could catch your death.”
That’s the kind of talkin’ ya do in the Old West. Ya bring up somethin’, but don’t say what. Then the other guy tries to get information from ya, and you don’t say where ya heard it. Goes back-an’-forth, and usually ends up with one of ‘em sayin’ somethin’ like, “A fella could get shot – or hung – for sayin’ somethin’ like that.”
So’s I decided to git to th’ point, and I tells him, “I could get my hands on somethin’ that might interest you.” (Now, this was big news, so it required a big spit from that wad of chewin’ tobacco before I said it.) I says, “A Gatlin’ gun.”
And Baker asks, “What are you willin’ to take for this big gun?”
Well now, this was somethin’ I needed ta discuss wit’ Baker, but I didn’t want ole Heck-ett Moon hearin’ this. Course’n he’d find out sooner or later anyways, but I was kinda embarrassed ta say it in front of Baker’s men an’ all. I quickly glanced right at Heck-ett Moon, then straight at Baker, then nodded muh head over to the left, wheres we could talk without’n the men hearin’ us. And then Baker got off’n his horse, an’ we walked off a spell, and we’s had us a palaver.
About 30 paces away from the men, with our backs to ’em, Baker and me standin’ side-by-side, real close, I says to him, “I’ll trade ya that thar big gun for a woman.”
Now, Baker was surprised and says, “A what?”
Well now, that was the 2nd time he’d said somethin’ stupid. So I spit out again, and said it louder fer him, “A woman!”
An’ here Baker says, “What do you want with a woman?”
Well now, I gotta tell ya, I think I coulda shot a man for sayin’ less. But I had ta deal with him, so I just says to him, “Whatta ya mean? Whatta ya mean, ‘Whatta I want with a woman’? What does ANY man want with a woman?”
Baker still give me a stupid look, and then says, “I’ll pay ya for the big gun.”
I tells him, “Yeah, and I’ll spend it all on the fust water hole I come ta.” I didn’t tell him I had a bunch of money anyways – heck, Baker was a’ outlaw, he might wind up robbin’ ME. I says, “You know I can’t leave the territory.” Feelin’ real hemmed in by territories all turnin’ inta states, what with their law-an’-order an’ all. I says, “It’s a woman or nothin’,” and I swears, if he woulda said, okay, then it’s nothin’, I woulda drawd my gun on him, gang of a dozen men or no.
And the story continues. . . . .
Would you like to write a comedy scene or a script for Albert? Feel free to contribute your ideas. Contact Sandra Grabman at srgrabman@cableone.net.
Spotlights & Shadows: The
Albert Salmi Story, by Sandra Grabman, is available through
these on-line booksellers:
BearManor Media
Cover Out
Amazon US
Amazon Kindle
