Robert Wells - Elvis - The Siege of Graceland and Other Stories

The Colonel has hired a hall for the auditions of the new Dixie Chickens and invites Elvis and Bubba to help with their advice and comments. Three chairs face a small stage on which there is a hotplate covered with straw where the chickens will perform their routines. Having sat down, Elvis wonders aloud if the days of music hall and variety are over.

Try telling that to Jack Benny and George Burns, replies the Colonel. He becomes, for him, quite wistful as he recalls how his career in showbusiness really began with his first troupe of Dixie Chickens. He is not just being sentimental when he says he intends to stay loyal to the act and its fans. There is still a good living to be had out there for this kind of entertainment.

“But it sure isn’t rock ‘n’ roll,” mutters Elvis.

The Colonel shouts to someone offstage to start the auditions. ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’ begins to play, a young guy with a few feathers stuck here and there to his dungarees, opens a basket and puts a chicken on the hot plate. It hops about and after 15 seconds the Colonel shouts “Next” and the chicken is scooped up and put back in another basket.

Ten or more chickens go through their 15-second slot before the Colonel suddenly leans forward in his chair and says, “I like this one.” Elvis and Bubba ask what is so special about this bird. The Colonel points his cigar baton-like towards the stage and tells them, “Note the poise and the high kicks. This is a keeper,” he calls out to the guy on the stage who puts it into a different basket, one that is kept for those that pass the audition.

“I’ve got a problem with the bird’s colour. I prefer them to be white like Leghorns. Can we fix that?”

“Sure thing,” comes the reply from the stage. “I’ve got some dye.”

The straw on the hotplate is rearranged, more seed corn is strewn across it, and the next chicken begins its routine. Fifteen seconds later, the Colonel is calling out “Next!”

“Thank goodness I got a lot more than 15 seconds when I auditioned for Sam Phillips at Sun,” remarks Elvis. “I reckon it was more like 15 days.”

“Yes, son, it’s a tough business,” says the Colonel.

When Bubba asks what will become of the chickens that fail the auditions, he shakes his head, opens his arms wide, and tries on his regretful look. “That’s showbiz,” he sighs.

“What are we having for lunch today, Colonel? Roast chicken?” asks Elvis sarcastically.

Some time later, Colonel Parker receives a phone call from his old friend, Colonel Sanders, who wants to feature the Dixie Chickens in some new TV commercials and poster ads for his KFC restaurants; he wants to promote his new slogan ‘high kickin’ finger lickin’ good’. But the new line-up is not ready yet, so it means a final curtain call for the old troupe before they move into their retirement hut in the grounds of Graceland and start work laying eggs for Priscilla.

To applause from everyone on the set at Paramount Studios, Greta Garbo makes her entrance as Queen Christina and sits down on the throne. “Grow a moustache and you’ll look a lot like a film star I used to work with.” she winks at Elvis, who is playing the role of her lover, Antonio, the Spanish envoy. She inhales deeply, flutters her fan, and declares that she is ready.

The director counts them in, the music backing track begins, and the Queen tells Antonio, “C’mon. let’s start the party right now.” She proceeds to tap dance her way down the steps from the throne.

“Cut!” The director calls through his megaphone. “Sorry, Elvis, but you need to move a bit quicker if you’re gonna keep up and hit your spot. Congratulations Miss Garbo, that was terrific.”

“Well you know they used to call me One-Take Greta,” she grins. And Elvis can’t help himself and starts laughing too.

Hal Wallis is awe-struck. Garbo laughs! A still picture of Elvis and Garbo laughing together on the set is going to be worth a fortune in advance publicity.

“You know, I didn’t dance in my films but at friends’ parties, up until quite recently, I used to dance a charleston to a tune called ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’,” she says. “It was my party trick and it would amaze my friends. They’d say I must be a spring chicken to do it.”

Elvis smiles ruefully at her mention of the song and the comment ‘spring chicken’ while Bubba, fighting to control his emotion, blows his nose rather noisily.

Hal Wallis looks round to take in everyone on the set and says, “I’m sure everybody will join me in a round of applause for Miss Garbo. Who’d have thought you were such a good dancer. You continue to amaze your fans.”

She smiles and graciously acknowledges their applause with a wave of her hand.

“Who would have thought I’d be making another movie after all this time. But thank you for giving me my comeback, I’m delighted, and I promise you all that I shall do my very, very best to earn every cent of my $10 million contract.”

There is a loud crash like the noise of a heavy boulder falling off a cliff, caused by Colonel Parker slumping to the ground. Hal Wallis sends for the medics who waft smelling salts under his nose to bring him round; he can be heard faintly repeating, “ten million… ten million…”

It is a task that takes as much effort as getting a beached whale back into the sea, but eventually, the medics, with the help of some of the crew, manage to haul him up and sit him in a chair. Once he has stopped gasping for breath, he asks if he can borrow the director’s megaphone. “Bubba. I need to talk to you. Right now.”

Having sufficiently regained his composure, Colonel Parker is able to start puffing on a cigar; his assistant informs him that Miss Garbo has misread the number of noughts on the cheque.

“You mean there could be more?” he asks, with an edge of panic in his voice. “I sincerely hope you mean there are less”.

“Less, Colonel. Exactly. And remember the cheque is drawn on your account at the Jefferson Davis Bank.”

“Ah… of course. Well done, Bubba.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m learning from The Master.”

Ends

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