(Courtney) Love somehow managed to single-handedly get herself out of the bind she was in -- sans-Hole.... thereafter she somehow managed to make it to Omar Mohammed's Kandahar digs....... as per prior arrangement -
upon arriving she saw that a woman in pink military fatigues with a pink machine-gun was all but leaving --- all butt leaving.......... some african child soldiers with black machine guns milled around her gayly:
'tap that, bitch - yeah!' cried one 11-year old and slammed his hand against her buttcheek....
'um, ... yeah,' responded witherspoon/simpson/woods and bid adieu to omar mohammed's brother and their (respective 7 wives - Kadeetha, Mohammed's youngest wife, if you will recall, obviously was not present as she had morphed into a giant ant like unto some 1950s american horror movie - four each -- and sundry children)... witherspoon marched out proudly, or at least with dignity, with her elbows slightly raised from their normal dangling position -- she remembered her dream about Thomas Jefferson and the greatest fighting animal, pound-for-pound, the weasel, and wondered where the gerbal ranked on the list.
'ploopsie in my bottom,' she greated Love
'ploopsie in my bottom,' responded Love
and off went witherspoon/simpson/woods -- out of our story, to attend to a meeting marking the arrival of general petraeus in early july 2010 (for it was just then that this ocurred) and then to return to virginia beach to nate-dogg-mad-homey her sweetie back home to help him through veterinary school.........
upon witherspoon's departure, Omar Mohammed's family took to welcoming Love --- come in come in, darling... they said....
after much tea and an offering of a hookah and some heroin to shoot up -- much to Love's delight...... Mohammed's eldest 2 wives, from Pakistan, both cricket players brokered business........
'look, Love, here's the thing -- the last Hollywood starlet we had here -- she can't sing -- she's a great lawyer and all, everyone in Afghanistan just loves her to pieces, the way she graduated from Harvard and all and just being a West Coast so-cal beach blonde bimbo and all, it's something that speaks to all of our Souls after a decade of long and miserable war with the Russians all thru the 1980s: just imagine how we missed out on all those great American sitcoms of that decade!'
Mohammed's 2nd wife just shakes her head at the thought and clucks disapprovingly, Mohammed's 1st wife continued:
'the thing is Love...'
'call me Courney,' said Love as she untied a tournique from her arm and rubbed her arm to restore blood circulation there.....
'the thing is Courtney,' continued Mohammed's first wife, 'is that Omar, my husband, he is a very important Taliban commander, right now, he's busy warring here in Kandahar, but when he has free time in his campaign, he wants you to sing for him.'
'well, sure, i can do that, the only thing is i can only stay 2 weeks, i have a movie that starts shooting back home and i have to make that happen,' said courney.
'a movie?' said Mohammed's 1st (cricket playing) wife
'yeah, a movie, you know: lights, cameras, action! a big budget, producers, a director, a post-production schedule, a shooting schedule, assistant directors, caterers, trailers, a movie!'
'we don't understand,' said Mohammed's first two wives at once.
'well,' said Courtney, starting to enjoy the rush of heroin in her system, 'you know when you watch TV, like Baywatch, you like Baywatch, right?'
'uh-huh! yep!' agreed the two women, in fact, Baywatch was one of the biggest winners amongst American TV shows in the middle east before 9/11 and the scanty clothing was not frowned upon as it was taken to be wholesome, non-sleazy entertainment
'okay, well they have to shoot Baywatch, right?' said Love. Mohammed's first 2 wives weren't getting it -- but maybe it was because of the shock of seeing Kadeetha turn into a giant ant and squirt face-burning liquid from her back.
'we,re not sure what you mean about directors and producers and shooting schedules and such,' said the two wives.
'casting agents?' prompted Love.
'nope, we don't get any of that stuff, sounds like chinese,' concurred the two wives, 'well anyway, look about the singing, 2 weeks is fine, the thing is, we know you do the whole screeching harpie seattle/malibu west-end thing and we love your music, but Omar wants you to do country.'
'country?' asked Love
'and western,' responded the two wives.
'i don't do country,' affirmed Love.
'you'll do country,' assured her the two wives, 'or Omar will shoot you in the womb: with a gun.'
and there it was! the two wives ushered Love to a little kareoke set-up on Omar's lot and gave her a bunch of dvd's with different country themes like: square dancing, billy ray cyrus, etc
'don't worry,' said the two wives, 'just learn a little Shania Twain, shoot up heroin whenever you feel like it, drink some gin and have a good time -- we have all the hash your heart could desire.'
And true to their words, the two wives kept Love company in the ensuing days while she tried to master the subtleties of square dancing and dosie does:
"you gotta shimmy shake - make the earthquake
kick, turn, stomp
then you jump
heel to toe
dosy doe
til your boots want to break
til your feet and your back ache
keep it moving, til you just can't take:
anymore"
sang Love while she mastered the turns, stomps and steps of southern jigging... the heroin was great and the hash was just fine
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