Tarnation: expression of confusion or inquiry.

Merle Dixon hosts a public access TV show.

Merle, in jeans and a wifebeater under his shirt, sat upright in a recliner in the studio space. A matching chair was empty beside him. Between the two was a small table with a cube refrigerator beneath it.

"I'm Merle Dixon and this here is Tarnation. Rednecks get a lot of grief these days. I'm hoping the abuse keeps getting heaped on so we can become a persecuted group and obtain all kinds of special privileges. Until that happens I'm gonna represent for rednecks in Georgia. I've kept step with these politically correct times and I ain't your typical ignorant, racist, homophobic redneck."

"My very first guest is my brother Daryl. Come on out."

Daryl ambled into view. His brown hair was shaggy and almost clean. His workpants and shirt were decent. The shirt had sleeves.

"Have a seat," Merle invited.

Daryl sat. Both men reclined.

"These are better than our furniture at home," Daryl said. "Why can't we have nice things?"

"You never cared about décor before. Is this a gay thing manifesting?"

"Christ sake, Merle! I didn't know you were going to out me on TV."

"You been out for years."

"Not on TV."

"Shouldn't you be loud and proud instead of ashamed?"

"I ain't ashamed. I'm just not advertising."

"Maybe you should. You might get laid."

"I get laid when I want to."

"You must not want much. Tell you what, I'll help."

"No thanks."

Merle looked at the camera. "You see my brother here. He cleans up pretty well. Hunts with a crossbow. No particular bad habits except that gay thing. I'm gonna put a form on the show's website. It'll be like Tinder but I only got to make one match. Tell me about yourself and include a picture. I'll narrow it down to three and meet with you and you better be queer and your picture better match your face. Serious applicants only. The winner comes on the show to meet Daryl."

"No he won't, I won't be here. I'm done." Daryl got up and left.

"He's not a drama queen usually," Merle explained. "But he don't like surprises. I shouldn't have sprung it on him. Don't worry, I'll talk him around. The offer still stands. It'll be on the website …" Merle called offstage, "When, Glenn?"

Merle turned back to the camera. "I got a Chinese webmaster."

Glenn's voice from offstage: "I'm Korean. From Michigan."

"Whatever. He takes care of the technical shit."

"I'm not putting a form on the website."

"Come out here. You might as well fill in since Daryl run off."

Glenn appeared wearing jeans and a tee shirt.

"Sit. I didn't get a chance to offer Daryl refreshment." Merle pulled a beer can from the little refrigerator. It was hidden in a koozie. He spoke to the camera: "I'm not giving free product placement so you don't get to know my beer brand."

"Do you have soda?" Glenn asked.

"You know I do since you stocked the cube. Help yourself."

Glenn pulled the tab on a soda can also hidden in a koozie and settled back in the recliner.

"What's this about not putting a form on the website? You don't know how?"

"Of course I do. But your brother doesn't want it."

"I hired you to do what I want not what Daryl wants."

"You're not paying me. I volunteered for the experience. I get course credit in my computer and film classes."

Merle scowled. "I'm trying to help my brother and you're denying him an opportunity."

"Okay. Can I apply?"

"What?"

"I'm gay. Daryl is attractive. I didn't expect that from a brother of yours. He seems interesting. I'd like to know him better."

Merle grinned. "Well, my work is done. I set my brother up without leaving my chair. I'll give you his number but it's up to you and him after that. I'm staying out of it."

"I'd appreciate that. The number and you staying out of it."

They sat and drank in silence for a moment.

"These koozies are practically falling apart," Glenn said.

"They were old ones laying around the house."

"You should have koozies made to advertise your show."

Merle looked pleased. "I knew it was a good idea hiring you."

"Hiring implies compensation."

"You're welcome for that course credit."

"My guest this week is Hershel Greene, retired veterinarian and neighbor. How do, Hershel?"

"I'm well, Merle. I brought a little sipping whiskey."

"Thank you kindly." Merle called offstage, "Glenn, bring some glasses." Glenn appeared with two glasses.

"You can have some, too," Merle offered.

"I'll stick to soda." Glenn poured a generous measure in each glass and disappeared.

"You're a credit to your generation, Hershel. One that thinks a guest shouldn't show up empty-handed."

"My mother instilled that notion."

"I don't remember her."

"She remembered you. She chased you with a carpet slipper."

"That was her? Glad she didn't catch me."

"I have to ask, why is your show called Tarnation?"

"You've heard the expression 'What in tarnation'?"

"I believe that's what my mother said when she saw you in her flowerbeds before chasing you with the slipper."

"I heard that a lot growing up so I thought I'd use it. This show asks the question and answers it."

"Did you know that tarnation is an abbreviated form of 'eternal damnation'?"

"I did not. Guess that fits, too. Hey, that gives me a idea. Glenn!"

Glenn appeared.

"Make a note. When we order the koozies, I want them black with red and orange flames of eternal damnation below Tarnation."

Glenn started to walk away.

"Aren't you gonna write it down?"

"I'll try to remember it for ten seconds until I get back to my desk."

Merle turned his attention back to Hershel. "I got you on here tonight to talk about the new medical marijuana laws in Georgia. I understand you got a prescription."

"That's right. I've got Crohn's Disease."

"Crone? Sounds like an old lady sickness. You inherit it from your mama?"

"It's a different spelling. Crohn's is an inflammatory bowel disease."

"That happens to me after eating Mexican. What makes yours special?"

"Mine is a chronic condition."

"So you get to take 'the chronic' for a chronic condition?"

Hershel chuckled. "I'd rather not have the condition but yes, I suppose you could put it like that."

"Who's your dealer?"

"Right now I have to get it from out of state."

"Well, that's not convenient. I can hook you up."

"Should you be saying that on TV?"

"Maybe I'll get licensed so I can distribute."

"Oh, dear Lord."

"Exactly. Jesus would want me to help suffering folks."

"With me tonight is Andrea Harrison. She's a lawyer and she heard about last week's show and offered to keep me out of jail, pro bono, if I get into trouble."

"Prison, not jail. And I'd like to get paid but my expectations are realistic."

"I'm not fond of most lawyers but there's things about you I like."

"Do they begin with the letters T and A?"

"Don't be vulgar, Sugar. I like your face and legs, too. And speaking of legs, no need to display your goods to any perverts that may be watching."

"I wouldn't be surprised if no one but perverts are watching."

"Well, how did you find out about my show?"

"From a pervert client."

"What's his name? Might be a friend of mine."

"I'll keep that confidential."

"We got off the subject of your legs. Glenn! Bring out the modesty drape."

Glenn appeared with a throw which he spread over Andrea's lap. It was black with the yellow and orange flames of eternal damnation below 'TARNATION' in red which was below 'What In' much smaller in white. Andrea reclined and Glenn tucked the throw around her ankles but was careful to keep her suede pumps visible.

"That turned out real fine," Merle said admiringly. "It matches the koozies. Every guest leaves with a koozie but you get to keep the throw, too."

"I'm overwhelmed."

"That's the reaction of a lot of folks I meet," Merle said with satisfaction, apparently unaware that it might not be a compliment. "Glenn, order another throw in case I get another female guest in a skirt. And make sure Hershel and Daryl get a koozie."

"I already gave one to Daryl."

"Big spender with your gifts, huh? All right, order an extra throw for you and Daryl to snuggle under. How's it going with my brother, by the way?"

Glenn blushed, remained silent and backed away quickly.

"That good, huh?" Merle turned to Andrea. "He turned awful red, didn't he? I'd call that color Gettin' Some."

"Why am I here? I already agreed to represent you."

"Thought you might like to take a shot at changing folks' attitude to lawyers. You gotta know by now you rank lower than DMV workers."

"People are glad to have us when they need us."

"But they don't love you for it even when you get 'em out of a jam. I know from experience."

"I'm aware. I looked up your record."

"Don't hold that against me. I was young and stupid."

"You're almost forty and your last arrest was a year ago."

"See, this is why folks don't like lawyers. Very judgmental."

Andrea sighed. "You may have a point. Very well, what is your suggestion for improving the image of attorneys?"

"You need to be seen as regular people, not above mixing with us common folk."

"And how do I accomplish that?"

"We could go on a date."

Andrea stared at Merle. She inclined the recliner, tossed aside the throw and stalked offstage.

Merle addressed the camera. "She'll be back."

Andrea marched back to her chair, picked up the throw and a koozie and left again.

"I guess she don't mind being thought stuck-up."

Tonight's guest is Theodore Douglas. Long time no see, T-Dog."

"My Gran got sick and I been helping her."

"She better now?"

"Not really. Jesus is with her."

"Sorry about that. Was it peaceful?"

"What?"

"Her passing."

"She's not dead."

"You said she's with Jesus."

"Oh, I meant Paul Rovia, that dude everybody calls Jesus. He does home health care. Gran needs somebody professional so he goes in every day."

"Happy to have cleared that up. I asked you here to discuss a business opportunity."

"I could use one. I'm between jobs."

"How about going in together growing pot?"

"No, man, I promised Gran not to do drugs."

"This is medical marijuana. We can get licensed to grow and sell it. In a shop, not on a corner."

"Legal weed?" T-Dog was astounded.

"We live in a great country. Hey, what's wrong with your Gran? She might be able to get a prescription."

"Here tonight is a member of law enforcement, Sheriff Rick Grimes. Thank you for your service, sir."

Rick looked startled. "Uh … thanks, Merle. I didn't expect … Well, I admit I wasn't sure this was a good idea."

"Then I'm doubly obliged that you showed up."

Rick relaxed.

"Tell me, sheriff, does this count as a check-in with my parole officer? Because I was hoping we could cancel tomorrow morning's meeting."

Rick looked disillusioned. "I suppose so."

"Fair enough. Let's talk about you. You're the sheriff of small-town Benford outside Atlanta. Any family?"

"You know I have a son and a daughter."

"You're a widow man since Lori died when the girl was born."

"Yes. Where is this going?"

"Ever think about a new mama for your kids?"

"What?" Rick looked confused about the turn the conversation had taken.

"I've had some success in matchmaking lately so I took a look at your situation."

"Don't put yourself out on my account. Please don't."

"It's been two years. You date much?"

"No," Rick said uncomfortably. "I'm sure the whole town knows it didn't work out with Jessie and me."

"No surprise there. She was the rebound. Now you can get serious. Anybody in mind?"

"No. And I don't think it's appropriate …"

"What about the black chick?"

Rick looked stunned. "Michonne?"

"That's her name."

"I don't think you want her to know that you called her a black chick."

"Accurate description, ain't it?"

"Technically, but there are other ways to say it."

"She's a fine-looking black woman. Is that better?"

"Yes."

"So, what about you and her?"

"We're friends."

"That's half the deal right there. Just add 'With benefits'."

"I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship with sex."

"You got an odd idea of sex. How'd you get two babies, anyway?"

"This conversation is over." Rick got up and walked away.

"Remember," Merle called after him. "I don't have to check in again until next month."

With me tonight is Michonne, a fine-looking black woman who speaks softly and carries a big sword."

Michonne looked suspicious. "What are you up to?"

Merle looked innocent. "Helping my fellow man. And woman."

"I don't need help."

"Satisfied with your life, are you? Nothing missing? No need for romance?"

"It's hard to meet people, especially in a small town."

"Have you looked around for an eligible single man?"

"Did you invite me on your show to hit on me?"

"I'm off the market."

"No, you're not."

"She don't know it yet but it'll happen."

"Just because you've got an imaginary relationship doesn't mean you should start fixing people up. You hardly know me."

"I was thinking of the sheriff."

Michonne glowered for a moment. "Has he said anything?"

"He's afraid sex might ruin being friends."

Michonne bit her lip. "But he seemed interested? I thought he liked blondes."

"That tramp is out of the picture. You got a clear field."

"Hmmm."

"Tonight I'm not so much hosting as babysitting. This here is Judith."

A small girl sat in the guest recliner wrapped in a Tarnation throw.

"Say something for the audience."

"Juice," Judith said obediently.

Merle took an apple juice box from the fridge, unwrapped the straw, stabbed it into the box and handed it to her.

"Intake is followed by output," Merle said. "Are you potty trained?"

"I wear pull-ups."

"Got extras with you?"

Judith nodded. "Daddy gave them to you."

"That's right." Merle picked up a backpack beside his chair. "I guess we're set."

Judith finished her juice and curled up. Her eyes closed.

Merle addressed the camera. "Her daddy and Michonne are on a date. Her brother Carl is fifteen and should be watching her but he's studying for a test, I don't believe. Glenn's not even here to help. Him and Daryl are off somewhere doing God knows what."

Merle was feeling low, abandoned by brother and friends alike. His phone rang. "It's Andrea. She's out of town taking a deposition." He answered the call. "Hey."

"I finished early. I'll be back tonight after all. But it'll be late."

Merle's spirits lifted immediately. "I'll be waiting. Late is the best time for what I got in mind."

He had just clicked off the call when Daryl and Glenn arrived. Glenn was bursting with excitement. Daryl looked happy, too.

"You get engaged or something?"

"Not yet," Daryl said. "When the time comes, you can be my best man."

"But we've got great news for you." Glenn was practically bouncing. "You got nominated for a Hometown Media Award!"

"Say what?"

"It's like an Emmy for community and local cable programs. Tarnation is nominated in the Entertainment & Arts category."

"Is this a insult thing like them Razzies or Screenies?"

"It's a completely legit honor," Glenn assured him.

"How did it happen?"

"I submitted a tape."

"Who do I have to sleep with to win?"

"You'll have a better chance if you don't sleep with anybody," Daryl said.

Judith woke up and whimpered. "She needs changing," Merle said. "That's woman's work." He handed the backpack to Glenn.

"Come here, sweetie," Glenn said, but Daryl scooped her up.

"I'll go with you. I fed Lil Ass Kicker a time or two when she was a baby. Might as well help with the other end this time."

Merle addressed the camera: "To wrap up tonight I'm gonna give you one of my rules for better living: Don't be too nice when you're driving. I don't mean road rage, I'm talking about well-meaning idiots that fuck up traffic. If you got the right of way, take it. Don't sit there motioning other folk to go first. You're screwing up the natural flow for everybody who knows the rules. If you wanna feel all warm and fuzzy and self-righteous, take it off the street and go read to the blind or something. Although they probably don't want you neither. They got books on tape. I'm Merle Dixon and this is Tarnation. Tune in next week."