Flo Flanagan

THE OLD PROS

Flo Flanagan, Roller Derby Queen

The Old Broadcaster: Hello again sports fans, and welcome to another edition of The Old Pros! As usual, I am honored to introduce my colleagues, that scrappy and scandal-mongering scribbler, The Old Sportswriter…

The Old Sportswriter: Always great to be here OB, but do you think you could get the management to build a stall around the toilet? Having it out in the open like that kind of detracts from that blissful feeling one usually gets when taking a good, healthy, steaming…

Old Broadcaster: Uh, no need to go into the gory details there, Sal. Also joining us, as always, is that tireless taskmaster and field strategist extraordinaire, The Old Coach!

The Old Coach: Yeah, thanks. Could you not shout so much, OB? I’ve got a hangover that would incapacitate Dean Martin.

Old Sportswriter: If I told you once Coach, I’ve told you a thousand times: Early Times and pickled chicken gizzards don’t mix!

Old Coach: Aw, go wipe your ass!

Old Broadcaster: As much as I hate to interrupt this meeting of the minds, perhaps we should introduce this week’s guest? As you regular viewers know, Sal and Coach have made a habit of disparaging the guests I book for this show…

Old Coach: Fuckin’-A.

Old Sportswriter: I’ll second that. You’ve picked more losers than Cher!

Old Broadcaster: So this week, I challenged them to book the guests! Who have we got, gentlemen?

Old Sportswriter: Well for your information, smart-ass, I booked none other than former Chicago Cubs great, “Mr. Cub” himself, Ernie Banks! Come to think of it, where is he? I just saw him a half-hour ago. He was even wearing a Cubs warm-up jacket…

Old Broadcaster: Uh-oh.

Old Coach: Oh Christ, OB, what did you do now?

Old Broadcaster: I thought he was one of the stagehands. I sent him over to Wetzel’s for lattes and bagels.

Old Sportswriter: You WHAT?

Old Broadcaster: How was I supposed to know? He didn’t tell me who he was!

Old Sportswriter: I don’t believe this! I’m going to fucking kill you, OB! Wetzel’s is a good forty-five minutes from here! We’ll never get him back in time! That does it, where’s my gun?

Old Coach: Hold it guys, hold it! Not to worry! The Old Coach is here to the rescue! I got a ride up here from Flo Flanagan!

Old Broadcaster & Old Sportswriter: Who?

Old Coach: Flo Flanagan, the owner of Flo and Earl’s Main Street Tap in my hometown, Greater Featherstone, USA, and also the main squeeze of yours truly.

Old Sportswriter: What does Earl have to say about that?

Old Broadcaster: And more importantly, what’s she have to do with sports?

Old Coach: First off, Earl’s been dead for years, and second, Flo Flanagan was one of the deadliest enforcers in the history of the American Roller Derby Association when she skated for the Des Moines Hog Butchers. She’s a living legend!

Old Sportswriter: You’ve got to be kidding! Roller Derby?

Old Broadcaster: We might as well go with it, Sal. Any port in a storm.

Old Coach: C’mon out here, baby! Folks, meet a true superstar, a real Hall-Of-Famer, Flo Flanagan!

Flo: Hiya, fellas! What’s shakin’ in this dump?

Old Broadcaster: Huh?

Old Coach: That’s just her way of asking “How are you?”

Old Sportswriter: Those are the biggest breasts I’ve ever seen, and I interviewed Dolly Parton during a Bulls’ game. How do you stand upright?

Old Coach: She’s somethin’, ain’t she? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! She’s got this thing where she fills her mouth with ice cubes, see, and…

Flo: Oh hush, sugar buns, you’re embarrassing me!

Old Broadcaster: Can we get back to the subject of…sugar buns?

Old Sportscaster: Amazing! Forty-four EE, am I right? They’ve got to be EE!

Old Coach: They’re real, too!

Old Sportswriter: You serious? Son of a bitch!

Old Broadcaster: Sports, gentlemen, sports! Flo, why don’t you tell us some war stories? You know, the strategies, the battles in the trenches…

Old Sportswriter: When’s the last time you saw your feet?

Flo: I think when I was ten. Why don’t you tell them butter hips, you know how much you like to kiss my feet, especially when I wear those four-inch spikes you like so much…

Old Coach: Sshhh, darlin’, not in front of the guys!

Old Broadcaster: Butter hips? Why Coach, you old dog, you!

Old Coach: Can we edit that out?

Flo: C’mon Coachie, let’s go have a few drinks and then go back to the hotel for a round of “Death-Row Danny and the Warden’s Wife.”

Old Coach: Later, guys!

Old Sportswriter: I think I’ll go to the bathroom and, um, well…

Old Broadcaster: Don’t get it all over the seat.

Old Sportswriter: Uh-huh. Okay.Yeah. Sure.

Old Broadcaster: See you next week on The Old Pros!

Old Sportswriter: There’s enough tissue in there, right?

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