The entire town was abuzz with excitement and the majority of the excitement was going on right there in the Hoot N' Holler. The place was packed and Wanda was ecstatic. The town had just gotten the news that a big time newsshow from New York City (NEW YORK!!) was coming down to do an hour long show on their little town as part of a series on small town life! Wanda only hoped that they'd come to the Cafe. It would be great publicity."They're gonna be staying at the Inn while they're here," said Ed Garner, the owner of the Brushy Creek Inn. He took a sip of his coffee.
"So I've heard Ed, so I've heard," said Wanda with a smile. She topped off his coffee and moved off to wait on someone else.
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Across the room Frank Gellum and his cronies were not as pleased as the other Cafe patrons. They sat at their usual booth all four of them conversing on the evils of big city influence infiltrating their small town. They followed the motto "Change is Bad, Consistancy is Good". Old timers with a bee up their blue denim overalls.
"It's a bad idea. Before you know it strangers'll be showin' up in town takin' everything over," groused Frank. His cronies nodded sagely.
"Maybe this town NEEDS a bit of big city influence and tourists," said Starla Grant as she refilled their coffee cups. Frank hissed and shut her out. She moved on to the next table.
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17 year old Darla Grant sipped her diet coke in excitement and ignored her mother, waitress Starla, who swept past her and patted her on the cheek. Yeesh, mothers, how embarrasing.
"If I can somehow get on the camera, like an interview or something, maybe producers in Hollywood would see me and "discover me"!" she said to her best friend Mandy Glick.
"This could be your big break!" gushed Mandy.
"Maybe, but first I gotta get on camera. They probably won't want to interview teenagers. I gotta think of a way to get their attention!" said Darla thoughtfully. She bit into her cheeseburger and chewed slowly. "Oh sheesh, JR just walked in. DON'T LOOK! Do you think he can see us here in the corner?"
"I don't know why you won't go out with him," said Mandy, "he's like the most popular, richest boy in school! And he's totally crushing on you!"
"He can crush all he likes as long as he leaves me alone," said Darla, "the last thing I want is to marry some local-yokel and breed a bunch of brats. I got bigger plans for my life!"
"He's not asking you to marry him," said Mandy sipping her diet pepsi, "just go out with him."
"Let's get outta here," said Darla standing up. She pretended not to hear JR calling her name as they left the cafe.
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Across town Buddy Wigham sat fuming. He did not like what his lawyer had to say to him. He was a man who was used to getting his way. He did not like to be thwarted.
"Technically and legally there's nothin' you can do, Buddy," said Bob Freeman twirling his unlit cigar in his hands, "Howard left the Cafe to Wanda all nice and neat."
Buddy scowled dangerously. He never did like his brother's wife. She was too..headstrong. And she wasn't afraid of him.
"The Hoot N' Holler Cafe has been in the Wigham family for three generations," he growled ferociously, "he had no right passing it on to THAT WOMAN! I'm the surviving Wigham heir, it should go to me and my family."
"I'm sorry Buddy, you can try it in court if you want but I'm telling you it's a waste of time. Your father gave Howard the right to do as he pleased with the cafe when he passed it on to him." said Bob, "frankly I don't see what the big deal is. For the amount of money it would cost you to fight this you could open your own cafe."
Buddy's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. His own cafe? No, a restaurant. Wigham's Fine Dining. He'd put Wanda outta business. She'd be forced to sign over the cafe to him. Well, it was something to think about. But he had reasons for wanting the Cafe. He HAD to have it. He WOULD have it one way or another.
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Alice Hamilton sat at her usual table at the Cafe pouring over the letters she held before her. For the past six months she had been writing her column "Ask Alice" for the Brushy Creek Bugle. It was a job she enjoyed. Her brow wrinkled. Her boss was not too pleased with her right now. She had the bad habit of getting TOO involved with her readers. Going beyond replying to their letters in the paper. Most people knew that she sometimes did this. They were okay with it, it was just part of her "charm" but one gentleman had complained to the paper about it. Well she was just trying to help! Isn't that part of her Christian Duty?
She picked up a letter and read it:
Dear AliceI have no where to go. No one will help me. I think my wife is trying to kill me! The police won't do anything about it until a crime is actually committed. I can't leave. We got kids. What do I do?---Anonymous"
It was signed Anonymous. She flipped the envelope over. No return address. She felt her heart leap in her chest. Murder! There was no way she could ignore this! She HAD to get involved before this poor man wound up dead! Surely Mr. Peterman would understand!