Randy Rasmussen: Part VI

Opening Crawl

Chapter VI

The Quantum Distortion

It is a period of economic turmoil and uncertainty.

Competing   carriers   and   long-haul   freelancers

in  '08 won a progressive victory, a referendum of

Bush's archaic, failed national transportation policy.

In a seemingly unrelated development, the intrepid

trucker:  Randy  Rasmussen,   speeds  across  the

barren wastes of eastern Nevada, custodian  of  a

high  value  cargo of soy and gum arabic destined 

for north-central Cheyennes eraser conglomerates.

Pursued  by the sinister progeny  of  the  tragically

deceased trucker  Dick Augney, and  stalked by  

voluptuous  long-haul  banshee 'Sweaty'  Negretti,

Randy Rasmussen unknowingly encounters  a tear

in the very fabric of space and time . . . . . . . . . .

(Scene 1:  Pan downward from opening crawl to a custom Peterbilt approaching  a poorly lit UHP weigh station on the southern Utah / Arizona border.  The rig rolls to a stop and after a moment, our hero opens the door and climbs down to the recently repaved tarmac.  Stretching his back and stiffling a yawn, Randy strides toward the weigh station office)

Randy "Dave" Rasmussen: (to the desk clerk)  Hiya doin?

Trooper Clyde Barnett:  Good morning sir, what can I do for you?

Randy:  Well son, I got me a load of soy and gum arabic for one of those eraser factories in Wyoming and I sure as hell mean to see it through by dawn, but I gotta take me a leak.

Trooper Clyde:  Down the hall...to your right.

(Cut to scene 2:  Inside a custom Keworth somewhere in the Arizona badlands, 'Sweaty' Alice Negretti, clad resplendently in a pair of black leather hotpants and nothing else, sleeps fitfully)

'Sweaty' Alice Negretti:  (talking in her sleep)  Sonofabitch.....why wont you take me?

(Cut to scene 3:  moments later inside the St George weigh station)

Randy:  Godamighty my pants fit better now.  Thank you, kind sir.

Trooper Clyde:  (nods)

Randy:  Say, what time you got?

Trooper Clyde:  (checks his watch)  Just about one a.m., sir.

Randy:  (stunned)  What?

Trooper Clyde:  I said it's just about one, sir.  Sir?  Sir, are you all right?

Randy:  Trooper, are you sure about the time?

Trooper Clyde:  Yes sir.

Randy:  But thats impossible.   There's no way...

Trooper Clyde:  Huh?

Randy:  Son,  I rented me a girl tonight in Mesquite and I left as soon as I was done.

Trooper Clyde:  (stares)

Randy:  That was forty five minutes ago....at eleven o'clock.

Trooper Clyde:  (stares)

Randy:  Damn it, man.  Don't you get it?

Trooper Clyde:  (stares)

Randy:  Ever been to Mesquite, son?

Trooper Clyde:  All the time sir,  my sister lives there.

Randy:  How long is the drive?

Trooper Clyde:  Thirty...forty five minutes at most.

Randy:  Don't you see?  I left forty five minutes ago!  AT ELEVEN O'CLOCK!

Trooper Clyde:  (stares and blinks twice)

Randy:  Look at my watch, man!  Look!  It says 11:56!  How the hell do you figure it's almost one a.m.?

Trooper Clyde:  (blinks)

Randy:  Oh I get it.  You're in on this too!

Trooper Clyde:  (stares)

Randy:  God as my witness, I will figure out whats going on here.   It's got to be some sort of quantum displacement.  Some kind of rupture in the fabric of space and time maybe. I dont know much about that kinda stuff but I will figure out whats going on.  And when I do....

Trooper Clyde:  Ok sir.  Have a good night, sir.

(Randy backs out slowly and once out of Trooper Clyde's line of sight, sprints to the safety of his Peterbilt, determined more than ever to see his precious cargo delivered on time to Cheyenne)

Randy Rasmussen and The Temple of Poon

Prologue:

There are strange things done on the midnight run by the men who long-haul truck

Eighteen wheels of steel and behind the wheel are men who love to fuck

(Scene 1:  Camera view fading in from black reveals the dark, smoky confines of a cheesy brothel 35 miles south of Jackpot, Nevada.  Broken men idle impatiently on gaudy red velvet couches while an off screen pianist belts out an off-tune rendition of  The Sting.  Pan to the door which violently crashes open revealing the backlit silhouette of a large angry man...)

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:   (shouts)  Where is that cockmagnet Rasmussen hiding?

DONNA THE PROPRIETOR:  (from off-scene) Close the door, Dick.  You're lettin' all the warm air out.

"BIG" DICK:  (shouts) Where is he?

(cut to DONNA, proprietor of DONNA'S RANCH)

DONNA:  (from off-scene)  Jesus, hon.  You're actin' a site.  Why dontcha take a load off?

(cut to a haggard and obviously drunk "BIG" DICK AUGNEY, his beer stained Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt several sizes too small for his distended gut)

"BIG" DICK: (stares lewdly at DONNA's gratuitous cleavage)  Rasmussen ain't been in tonight?

DONNA:  (from off-scene)  No.  Now would ya close the door, the wind will kill ya!

"BIG" DICK:  (looks over the lounge) Hmmmm.  Can a fella get some service in here?

DONNA:  (moves into frame) Smells like you've had enough to drink tonight, big boy.

"BIG" DICK:  You get me wrong, darlin'.  I'm looking for service for...my COCK.

(cue an appropriately sinister chord, trilling on the word "cock")

DONNA:  (making a cud smacking noise with her chewing gum) You got cash?

"BIG" DICK:  You got ass?

DONNA:  Right this way, baby.

(DONNA grabs "BIG" DICK AUGNEY by the hand and leads him off-scene)

The long, long maze of lonely highways

Driven by men down on their luck

(Scene 2:  Pan down from a dark, starry sky to a poorly maintained gravel lot where a custom Peterbilt Rig grumbles onto the scene and stops with a loud hiss of air brakes.  The engine ticks loudly, cooling in the sub-zero temperatures as the drivers side door opens and intrepid long-haul trucker RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN climbs out.   He strides quickly toward the front door of a seedy, ramshackle joint advertised by a large buzzing neon sign which reads:  Donna's Ranch)

RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN:  (to himself) Oh boy, I've got to get me some goddamn poontang!

(Cut to the interior of the brothel.  The recently damaged door opens with a grinding squeal.  Broken men on gaudy red velvet couches look up at the newcomer before retreating back into the loving embrace of their own sorrows.)

RANDY:  (to nobody in particular) This looks like one o' them establishments where a feller like me could get some goddamn poontang on the cheap.  That true?

(The piano stops playing and is replaced by the gravely, nicotine stressed voice of the pianist)

HOT CARLA, THE PIANIST:  You Rasmussen?

RANDY:  Thats right, I am.  Randy Rasmussen's muh name.  But you can call me Dave.  I got me a custom Peterbilt and a double load of brussels sprouts headin' to Salt Lake City, but they don't gotta be there until morning and right now I need me some goddamn poontang!

HOT CARLA:  Someone was in here lookin' for ya.

RANDY:  Really?  Where?

HOT CARLA:  Down the hall.

(RANDY stares toward a dark hallway)

RANDY:  (pointing with his thumb) That hallway right there?

HOT CARLA:  (resumes playing)  Yup.

Those sodium lights have seen queer sights

But the queerest they ever did see

(Scene 3:  Inside a darkened corridor in a cheesy brothel somewhere south of Jackpot, Nevada a lone figure surveys events unfolding in the lounge.  Clad in a form fitting latex bustier, black thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels and a lacy black thong, statuesque beauty "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI, armed with a bull whip and a small flask of feminine lubricant daintily tucked in the flimsy waistband of her expensive thong patiently awaits her prey)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (under her breath)  There you are, you sonofabitch.  Come to mama.  Come, let me show you what it feels like to be twenty-five again.

(RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN turns as directed by HOT CARLA, THE PIANIST toward the darkened hallway, where sex crazed vixen "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI awaits, quivering with desire)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (under her breath)  Closer you sonofabitch.  Follow your meatlance toward mamas mudhole.  Thats it.  Closer.

RANDY: (stops and stares into the dark intently)  Wait a minute!  My long-haul trucker senses are tingling.

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI: (under her breath) You sonofabitch.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI steps forward from the shadows, silky, jet black hair flourishing slightly in the breeze from an over head fan.  Her ice blue eyes seem to glow with an unnatural light from beneath her leather visor cap)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (spoken seductively) "Dave" Rasmussen!  At last we meet.  Bring that hog leg over here and let me lather it up with my juices.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI cracks her bullwhip and beckons RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN to come forward.  She licks her thick, ruby red lips and motions 'come here' with her index finger)

RANDY:  (gulps)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  I said now!  You sonofabitch.  I will have your cock now!

(Commotion can be heard coming from a room behind "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI")

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled)  Whuzzat?  Did someone just say "DAVE" Rasumussen is here?

RANDY: (staring intently at "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI)  What are you doing with that whip, Alice?

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI leans forward toward RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN, glances at the bulge in his crotch, then arches her back and slides her hand enticingly down the front of her thong.  She withdraws her hand and licks the tip of her middle finger. An exquisitely faint whiff of honey and Atlantic Cod can be detected over the musky lounge odors of smoke and human sweat)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  I've never wanted a man like I want you, "Dave".  Take me now!

(More commotion and then a loud crash from the hallway behind "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI)

"BIG" DICK: (shouting drunkenly) Dave!  Where you been you ass rascal?

("BIG" DICK AUGNEY charges drunkely down the hall toward RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN.  He collides with "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI who, weighing over one hundred pounds less than "BIG" DICK AUGNEY is knocked violently aside.  Her head connects sharply with a tackily papered wall and she collapses in a heap)

RANDY:  Big  Dick!

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI: (before losing consciousness) Sonsabitches.

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR, wrapped hastily in a semen stained bed sheet emerges from the room seconds behind "BIG" DICK AUGNEY)

DONNA: (shouting) The fuck is going on out here?

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR stops and stares in horror as "BIG" DICK AUGNEY drops to his knees in front of RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN, fumbles momentarily with his belt and then pulls out RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN's giant flesh pencil)

"BIG" DICK:  Oh Jeez, Dave.  Its been such a long time.  Oh God!  Whargarblll...

("BIG" DICK AUGNEY's last words are muffled as he wraps his hairy, wind chapped trucker lips around RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSENs swollen meat sickle)

DONNA: (shouting)  Hey you boys gotta get a room for that!  This here's a respectable establishment!

RANDY:  Oh God.  Oh Jesus.  I'm almost there, Big Dick!

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled) wharblgarbl

(DONNA THE PROPRIETOR turns her attention to the scantily clad, unconscious mystery woman laying spread eagle on the floor.  Although not of the lesbian pursuasion, she can not help but feel aroused as she detects the faint, pleasant odor of cinnamon honey and Alaskan king crab eminating from "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI's meticulously trimmed honey pot)

DONNA:  Oh Jesus, darlin'.  Are you okay?

RANDY:  Oh Lord.  I'm coming.  Oh yeah.

"BIG" DICK:  (muffled) wharblgarblgarbl.

DONNA:  (to the still unconscious "SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI) What did those nancy boys do to you, hun?

RANDY:  (yelling) Yaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh

(a loud pop is heard and camera view fades to black)

Was that night in Donna's Ranch, when with a sperm avalanche

"Dave" Rasmussen killed "Big" Dick Augney

(Scene 4:  Montage showing  the aftermath of  "BIG" DICK AUGNEY's sperm fueled destruction.  Epic 1981 ballad Endless Love by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie plays throughout the montage)

RANDY: (yelling)  Yaaaarrrrghhhhhhhhhh

(loud pop)

DONNA: (screams)

(a frothy pink mist of blood, gray matter, and gelatinous jets of man-goo mingle with cigarette smoke in the inadequate fluorescent light)

(Ranch clientele panic and scatter, tipping over chairs)

RANDY:  Unnnnnnnnnnngh

(red and blue lights strobe from every direction.  DONNA THE PROPRIETOR, still wrapped in a semen stained bed sheet holds a styrofoam cup of bad coffee and speaks with a detective, while in the background, the coroner can be seen loading a body bag laden gurney into the back of a county meat wagon)

DONNA:  No.  No sir.  "Big" Dick, he came all cock hungry at "Dave".  Wasn't nowhere "Dave" could go.  No sir.  No sir.  "Dave" didn't look to be fighting back too hard.

("SWEATY" ALICE NEGRETTI, wrapped in a wool army surplus blanket sits alone on the bumper of an ambulance holding an ice pack to her head)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  Sonsabitches!

(red and blue strobe lights fade out)

(cut to the interior of DONNA's Ranch where RANDY "DAVE" RASMUSSEN speaks patiently with another detective)

SIMON FALCO, Elko County Sherrifs Detective:  Yeah.  Yeah.  I can see where the pervasive psychological pressures inherent in the long-haul trucking industry could manifest themselves via physical pressure in your urethra.  I'm no doctor but it makes perfect sense to me.

RANDY:  "Big" Dick...oh God.....he was like a brother to me.

SIMON FALCO:  (stares)

RANDY:   Not that I woulda let that happen with my own brother.

SIMON FALCO:  (stares)

RANDY:  Or my sister, for that matter.  Do you need anything else from me, detective Falco?

SIMON FALCO:  (looks at his watch) I think we have this all wrapped up.  You go ahead and get on out of here.  I believe you got  somewhere you have to be, right?

RANDY:  Yes sir.  Them school children in Salt Lake need this load of brussels sprouts and I plan to see them through!

(...to be continued)


(Apologies to the estate of Robert Service)

The Erotic Adventures of Randy Rasmussen

(Scene 1: Pan from dark, overcast sky downward to reveal a desolate, snowbound stretch of highway. A white sign, half covered in ice reads US 50. Below that, another reads Ely 105 miles. From behind and to the right, brilliant white lights suddenly pierce the darkness, illuminating snow drifts blowing across the blacktop. A custom Peterbilt 18 wheeler growls past. Inside the cab, a toasty sanctuary from the bone-rattling cold, intrepid long haul trucker Randy "Dave" Rasmussen struggles to stay awake as pushes onward through the night toward Salt Lake City.)

RANDY: Gotta stay awake, "Dave". Only five hours to go.

(Randy stiffles a yawn and shakes his head as his radio crackles to life)

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  Breaker breaker one niner any other road doggs howlin' tonight?  Come back.

RANDY:  I gotcha "Big Dick".  Whaddya hear?
 
"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  "Dandy Dave".  Is thatchoo? 
 
RANDY:  Thats a ten four, good buddy.
 
"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  Say-a "Dave", dispatch is hollerin' at me to pull off the road.  Says Austin summit is closed.   Says it wont open 'til tomorrow afternoon.   Is that gospel?  Over.
 
RANDY:  That's right, "Big Dick", the county mounties shut it down right behind me.  It's a dicey go twenty miles on either side too.
 
(Cut to scene 2:  A primer gray Dodge Neon, with an over-sized rear spoiler and mismatched custom wheels rests on the highway shoulder.  A solitary figure sits shivering behind the wheel.  Inside the poorly modified Mopar tomb, Kevin LaFontaine has begun to second guess his decision to not stop for gas in Ely.)
 
KEVIN LAFONTAINE:  Herrrrrrrrrrrrr Derrrrrrrrrr.
 
(Kevin sticks his index finger into his nose. He pulls it out and carefully examines a gummy wad of mucus showing a faint tinge of blood.)
 
KEVIN LAFONTAINE:  Derrrrrrrrrrr.
 
(Cut to scene 3:  Sheltering from the blizzard in her own custom Kenworth,  "Sweaty" Alice Negretti, listens idly to radio traffic while half-heartedly watching an episode from season 3 of her Melrose Place DVD collection.  She flexes her keigel muscles continuously, conscious of an ache deep inside and knowing only the solid thrust of a mans flesh cudgel could ease her emotional and sexual pain.)
 
"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (staring at her radio but speaking to herself)  I'm here, you sonsabitches.  Take me.  I'm here for the taking.
 
(The radio crackles)
 
"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  I'ma pull it over, east side of Eureka.  You up for some comp'ny  "Dave"?
 
RANDY:  Love to "Big Dick",  but I have to see this load through to Salt Lake before 10 am.

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (to herself)  I'm right here, you sonsabitches.  I'll do ya both for a wink'n a smile.

(Cut to scene 4 - Subtitle: 45 minutes later...  Two custom Peterbilt rigs parked alongside the other.  One pointed eastbound idling languidly, the other pointed westbound, rocking violently side to side.  Muffled voices can be heard over the howling blizzard.)

RANDY:   (muffled)  Oh yeahhhh, brother.  Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh.  Ride me like a rodeo champ.

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:   Unnnnngh

RANDY:   Thats it, you big pecker!

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  Aaaagghhhhhh 
 
(Cut to scene 5:  Inside "Sweaty" Negretti's rig.  Melrose Place credits scroll slowly up her video screen.)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  Sonsabitches.

(she reaches for a medium size roll-on deodorant container)

"SWEATY"  NEGRETTI:  I can do this myself.

(she pulls the bottom of a silk teddy up toward her chin, revealing an exquitely trimmed minge, with a tiny "faux hitler moustache" patch of velvety pubic hair  just below her panty line)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  Sonsabitches.

(Cut to scene 6:  Kevin LaFontaine, exhausted, frostbitten, and resigned to his fate remains slumped behind his steering wheel.  Frozen rivulets of snot plastered to his upper lip.)

KEVIN LAFONTAINE:  Hurrrrrrr Durrrrrrrrrrrr

(he farts, shudders, and surrenders to the cold)

(Cut to scene 7:  Inside the toasty confines of a custom Peterbilt, two nude men lie spooning in the sleeper cab.  The wiry hair on "Big" Dick Augney's stomach clinging like velcro to the thick, coarse hair matted generously over Randy "Dave" Rasmussen's ass.  The smells of armpit sweat, feces, anal lube and semen compete for supremacy in the confines of their love nest.)

RANDY:  I'm stretched wider than a bell-bottom pant leg.  Yeah.  Thats the stuff.   Thank you, "Big" Dick.

"BIG" DICK AUGNEY:  Any time pard'ner.  It was my pleasure...

RANDY:  (interrupts)  But I really gotta be on my way.  I have to see my load through to Salt Lake before 10am.

(Outside, a hot pink Kenworth blasts by. From its now slightly cracked windows wafts the faint, pleasant aromas of vanilla and tuna fish)

"SWEATY" NEGRETTI:  (sighs)  Sonsabitches.

(Cut to scene 8:  A custom Peterbilt roars past a stalled Dodge Neon, whose windows are now covered in frost.  The truck driver, Randy "Dave" Rasmussen, does a double take as he thinks in passing that he can make out the silhouette of a person slumped over the steering wheel.)

RANDY:  Sorry pal.  Can't stop now.  Those school children in Salt Lake need this load of pencils and I plan to see them through!

(The custom Peterbilt rumbles on through the night.)


To be continued...

(UPDATE  7:30pm:  title changed)