On a night much like tonight, and similarly much like tomorrow night, a group of shitty college kids all dressed as Scorpion from Mortal Kombat made their way across campus to what was said to be “the most raging party the world has ever seen.”
“Golly, I sure can’t wait to drink beer!” Griff exclaimed while he skipped along the sidewalk like a stupid child.
Gnarly Charlie, Griff’s cool roommate, slapped Griff across the face and sternly said, “Save it for the party, cheese head!”
Griff began to cry like a weak and broken fool. It was hilarious at first but soon came off as more pathetic than anything. Stacerly, who has a cybernetic arm that doesn’t relate to the story, whispered to Gnarly Charlie, “We should ditch the square, he’s just gonna cry all night like a stupid baby.”
Gnarly Charlie concurred and turned to acknowledge the stupid baby. “Hey Griff!” Griff turned to respond, but Gnarly Charlie’s fist got in the way of Griff’s mouth. The punch was so hard that Griff pooped his pants a little bit. Stacerly and Gnarly Charlie rejoiced as they ran away, leaving Griff to wallow in his own filth.
Finally, Stacerly and Gnarly Charlie arrived to the party. It looked sick as hell. People were throwing up out the windows and eating beer cans just like at a real college party. Inside, a band was set up in the living room playing some sort of funk rock or whatever it is the kids are listening to these days, with what was maybe 2.4 million costumed freaks cutting loose on the dance floor.
“Good thing we left ol’ poopy pants behind!” Stacerly shouted over the music.
“Yeah,” Gnarly Charlie agreed while staring at his clenched fist. “We’ve done the world a great service.” After a prolonged silence in which Gnarly Charlie stared longingly at his punching hand, the two party-goers were handed some beers.
“Hey, sick costumes! My name’s Plorf Danielson!” Plorf bobbed up and down while speaking to Stacerly and Gnarly Charlie.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Stand still when you speak to me!” Gnarly Charlie was ready to make Plorf shit his pants with a swift punch. He had never felt so alive after punching Griff.
Before he was even able to clench his mighty fist, the music stopped and Gnarly Charlie heard his name being called from across the room. It was Griff, now soaked in shit for reasons unknown.
“Everybody, my name is Griff.” The crowd very willingly stopped partying and decided to listen to what the poopy boy had to say. “My roommate and former friend Gnarly Charlie, over there in the Scorpion costume, made me poop my pants.” Everybody laughed at the poopy little poop boy.
“Before you write me off as just another college poop,” he continued, “I want to let you all know that I’ve contacted the police and told them all about this party. Gnarly Charlie, ready thine palette for a spicy entree of blue justice!”
The party-goers immediately went into panic mode. “COPS!” one shouted while running up to the third floor and jumping out the window. Everyone ran frantically, trying to escape like a bunch of cows on hamburger day.
Stacerly strategically took to the air ducts, escaping without having to traverse through the endless sea of scared college kids. Gnarly Charlie, however, wasn’t so lucky. Before he could even put down his beer, he was trampled by some smelly freaks as they made their escape.
When the dust had all settled, Griff approached a now mangled Gnarly Charlie, who had shit his pants significantly more than Griff did earlier. “Well, well, look at how the mighty hath fallen. You know, it’s-“
“POLICE! EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” The cops burst through the door ready to rumble. “We got a call from a shit-stained Scorpion that there was a party here with underaged drinking.”
“That’s right officers!” Griff waved his hands in the air like an idiot. “There was all sorts of drinking happening! I made the the call!”
The cops looked at Griff, then at Gnarly Charlie’s motionless body. “They both seem to have popped their pants, Officer McSlappy, my mentor and leader!“ The cops silently studied Gnarly Charlie.
“It could have been either one of them that made the call,” McSlappy stated. “Whoever it was very specifically said that they were dressed as Scorpion and pooped their pants.”
“It was me!” Griff cried. “He probably just pooped his pants to confuse you!”
“Maybe,” McSlappy responded. “But you seem like a whiny little baby so I’m inclined to believe that you don’t even know how to use a phone. If that’s the case, and it probably is, then that would mean that your dead friend here made the call and you tried to take credit for his good deed. You’re disgusting. Book him, fellas.”
Several cops surrounded Griff, each putting him in more and more handcuffs until he became a giant pile of handcuffs. They dragged him out the door as he screamed incoherently through the handcuffs. Officer McSlappy stayed behind for a moment before leaving with everybody else.
“You’re good, McSlappy,” he whispered to himself. “Damn good.”
As he walked out the door, the funk rock band continued to play as Gnarly Charlie laid motionless in a pool of shit and blood. It was the college experience that he and his friends had strived for. The pay off may not have been pleasurable, but it certainly put the “Gnarly” in Gnarly Charlie.
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