Fool for thought

Last night (April Fool's Day) several Bozeman writers, myself included, performed the fourth annual "Foolish Words," a story we all conspired to write. Well, not conspired, exactly. Poet Sam Louden started it, he passed it along to the next person, and so on, and so on... Fifteen writers and 8,524 words later, the beast was cooked.

I'd love to show you my entry, but it wouldn't make much sense without the rest of it. Actually, it doesn't make much sense WITH the rest of it... which is sort of the nature of the game. I ran into former Foolish Wordster Paul Groueff today, who said it's liking taking the old axiom "too many cooks spoil the broth" and turning it on its ear. Like, spoiling the broth so incredibly that it's actually kinda interesting.

Instead of posting my part, I'll let you see the whole dang thing. My part is at the very end -- I was once again given the role of anchor-man, in which I had to tie together the myriad twists and turns and characters that everyone else had created.

The thing is full of Bozeman (and Butte) specific jokes that not everyone will get, but that's part of the fun. Really, we do it each year primarily to entertain ourselves... although a few spectators did show up, on their own accord, at the Leaf and Bean coffeehouse. Plus, I'm editing it somehow so that it will once again be published over several issues of the Tributary magazine.

Please also note that during the performance I not only read my own part, I also read the part written by Equinox Theatre director Soren Kisiel, who was unable to make it. Which meant I spent a good deal of the evening faking an Irish accent - and, scarily enough, I think I actually did a halfway decent job. I can jest pull the Blarney out of me arse, I tell ye.