I’ma Find Her Cat and Fuck It

December 12, 2012

[GARY 1 and GARY 2 are at the bar drinking gin and tonics. Their unfortunate clothes indicate that they are not busy or vital men.]

Gary 1: BURRRRP!

Gary 2: Yes!

Gary 1: Hey man. I saw something bad. I wasn’t going to tell you but I figure I should because we’re friends.

Gary 2: Tell me immediately.

Gary 1: Are we friends?

Gary 2: Yes, we are friends, of course. Who else am I friends with if I’m not friends with you. Tell me right now please.

Gary 1: I was outside the Skyline, the one on I-75, just carrying on and being a righteous dude, and I saw Angie.

Gary 2: How is that lizard?

Gary 1: Real good, it looked like. Nice clothes, good hair, smiling a lot. She was on a date. With a hangbot. Do you want any more details?

Gary 2: Give me all the details.

Gary 1: Her finger was in his mouth and she was petting him like a kitten. She was wearing a cool-looking hangbot-y jean jacket, it’s his, I’m sure, and they were falling over, so, not sober. They probably just got out of a hangbot party in Trotwood, and she kept whispering things in his ear, probably stuff she wanted to do to him later on, like give him a beej, and he kept saying, Niiiice, like he was real happy about it.

Gary 2: She’s good at beejes. Do you know who he is?

Gary 1: At first, no, I didn’t. All those hangbots look alike. But then Darryl’s Dad came up to him and said, Hey Cody!, or, What’s up, Cody! So it’s probably Cody. Cody actually seems pretty cool, man, I’m sorry.

Gary 2: I am sure he is REAL cool to be eating five-ways with that lizard.

Gary 1: You said you wanted to know.

Gary 2: Well I have to do something about this.

Gary 1: No, you don’t.

Gary 2: I think I do.

Gary 1: You really don’t man, just forget it.

Gary 2: Here’s what I want to do: Angie goes to the laundromat on Sunday nights, after Family Guy usually. I’ll wait there for her, nab her, and put her in my trunk. I’ll have rubbing alcohol on a hanky and I’ll put over her face real hard and say, “You made me do this!” or something cool, and shove her in my trunk and close the trunk door.

We’ll drive to my folks’ old place in Miamisburg. I’ll take her out of the trunk and drag her by her blond lizard hair into the garage.

My pops has miles of rope in there, at least he used to, and I’ll take the rope and tie her to the riding lawnmower so she can’t go anywhere.

Gary 1: So far, so good.

Gary 2: Then I’ll strip her down and cover her with gasoline.

Gary 1: Whoa, whoa dude.

Gary 2: I’m not going to burn her. I only want her to think I’m going to.

Next, I’ll take six feet of rope, grease it up with Skyline, and shove it down her throat, through her stomach and out her little asshole.

And she’ll be like, “I’m sorry, I’ve made so many mistakes, I have been so deceitful and so cruel to you.”

I’ma roll her into a ball and tie her to the tetherball pole in the backyard and punch her face.

I’ma pour ginger ale on her and leave her tied to the pole overnight so the raccoons can gnaw at her.

I’ma shave her head and eyebrows and draw cumming dicks everywhere with a Sharpie.

I’ma grate her tits off with a cheese grater and then sew on two tiny patches that say CUNT where her tits used to be. Everyone will call her “Cunt Tits.” At least until she takes the patches off.

I’ma tie the volleyball net around her and make her real small and squeeze her little lizard face into my asshole and then slowly pull it out like anal beads, and then again, and again, all the while cumming real hard on that framed picture of us at Grant Park she gave me for Christmas last year. That’s when she made me wear that bullshit sweater with huge buttons she gave me that she knew I would hate.

I’ma slice her lips and ears with a broken beer bottle and cover her face with Tabasco sauce, and then leave her tied up outside again so the raccoons can get at her.

I’ma fart on her. She hates that.

I’ma tell her about all her friends I mosted. I’ve mosted six: Lesley. C.C., Dana. Pam. Fat Becca. Andrea.

I’ma find her cat who’s been lost for a year and is probably dead—and if it’s dead I’ma dig it up or get it out of the lanfill—and fuck its dead face in front of her. I’ll call you over and you’ll fuck it too if you want.

Gary 1: Hey man, don’t rope me into this sickness.

Gary 2: You said you were my friend.

We’ll cut it up and sell it on the street in a little lemonade stand-type shack. We’ll say it’s lamb nibblets. She’ll be tied up inside, with her face in front of the garage door window, and she’ll have to watch as her friends and neighbors walk by and eats our nibblets. They’ll say, “How tender!” “What a delicious treat!” And she’ll be thinking, That’s not lamb, that’s my cat, boo hoo hoo, I’m a slut.

I’ma gnaw her abnormally large clit until it’s thin as floss and then floss my back molars, the hard-to-get ones. I’ma floss real hard so blood gets everywhere, all over her vag, and for once her vag will be covered in my blood, and not my dick covered in her blood.

I’ma fill her little asshole with 151 and Coke, and light it on fire and drink it.

Gary 1: That’s called a Flaming Dr. Pepper.

Gary 2: YEAH NO SHIT, I saw it on Real World.

I’ma take her inside and sit next to her on the couch and we can watch some TV, whatever she wants. Princess Diaries, whatever.

I’ma make pour her an Ultra Light.

I’ma make out with her real slow, tell her she’s a gorgeous lady, and then propose marriage.

Gary 1: Would you still marry her after everything?

Gary 2: Of course I would. Who’s better than Angie?



4 Percent

April 5, 2011

[GARY 1 and GARY 2 are at the bar drinking gin and tonics. Their unfortunate clothes indicate that they are not busy or vital men.]

Gary 1: Angie says I need to sort things out before we can attempt a relationship. She thinks it would be best if we didn’t talk for a bit.

Gary 2: I thought you were in a relationship.

-So did I.

-How long is a bit?

-I don’t know.

-Did she find out about the other girl? Cat and fox girl.

-Linda? I hope not. Oh shit, did she? No. No way.

-You never know. They all talk, you know. I have a theory: They have an email listserv where they report things to each other, so if one knows something, they all know. Eventually.

-I don’t think she knows about Linda. So I said, What sorts of things?

-Yeah. What sorts of things do you need to sort out?

-Get this: She says the things are for ME to figure out.

-She won’t tell you the things?


-So you have things to figure out AND things to sort out? Are they the same things?

-I believe so. Maybe it’s only one thing. Or maybe it’s a hundred things. First I need to figure them out and then I need to sort them out.

-It could be a three-step process: first you have to hunt them down, and then you figure them out, and then you sort them out. Hunt. Figure. Sort.

-Is it things season right now? Do I need a license to hunt things or can I just walk around in the woods with my thinking cap on and think about things?

-Once the things are sorted, what do you do with them?

-I don’t know. I’ll bring them to her and she’ll sort through them I guess and see if they’re sorted well enough.

-Where are you going to put them once they’re sorted? A Tupperware container or a shoebox or some shit?

-I think I’ll drop them in Angie’s car with the rest of her garbage. Have you seen her car? It’s like an ashtray, a landfill and a Ford Tempo fucked and had a baby. And that baby is her car.

-What happens if you sort them out BEFORE you figure them out?

-Angie will know, and it won’t count. I’ll have to start all over with the figuring and then sort them again, sort them better.

-And what if you figure them out, but you don’t sort them right? Do you think she’ll know?

-She’ll know.

-Women. Why can’t they just — be better?

-I know. Like, why can’t they just do things that they should do instead of doing things nobody wants them to do?

-Sometimes it’s like this: we have to have them around because if it were only dudes all the time then what would we be doing all day? Well, we’d be having a great time, but only for a few days. After a week it would be terrible. But other times when they’re around it’s like, Good God, who invited these people? Why do we put up with these delicate monsters you can’t hit? What do they want from us? What are they trying to get us to do? Why do they say things they don’t mean to see what we will say? Why are they doing things nobody wants them to do?

-Sometimes it’s like they are lumps of flesh who wreak havoc on everything good in this world.

-They are mean lumps of flesh, aren’t they? With wet holes.

-You can’t forget those holes.

-We need those holes.

-We need the holes to live, but to continue getting the holes we need to do things they want us to do that we would never want to do, and we have to put up with the mean, whiny lumps of flesh that are attached to the holes.

-Exactly. It’s like a video game. We go about our business, doing cool shit all day, like what we’re doing now, but every once and a while we need to power up. And we power up by getting in the holes. But to get in the holes we have to defeat, or at least tolerate, the boss. And the boss is the sack of flesh that does things nobody wants it to do.

-The mouth is a tricky hole. I’m conflicted about the mouth. Because sometimes it’s the best hole. When they feel like it. But other times –

-It’s the worst one. All the trouble with women starts in the mouth.

-At least 96 percent of the time it’s the worst hole.

-But it’s worth putting up with it for the other 4 percent.

-Is it?

-It is.

-But is it?

-I think so.

-But is it? They have blowjob machines you can buy online for not too much money. 96 percent is so much more percent than 4 percent. I’m not sure that hole on a woman is worth it.

-If you’re only getting blown 4 percent of the time, you’re still doing some good living.



A Swamp Inside A Cave

October 26, 2010

Gary 2: I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I sure as fuck have: the fried fish sandwich at Captain D’s is smaller than it used to be. It’s at least two ounces smaller, and it’s the same price. It’s bullshit. The bun is the same size but the fish patty is smaller. I was in there the other day and I got a fish sandwich and it only took me four bites to finish. Usually it’s a six-bite sandwich. So I was like, something is fucked about this sandwich. It must be smaller. I went up to the girl and said, Did your sandwich get smaller? It sure seems like it. And she said, No, I don’t think so. I asked if she could ask her manager. So she asks the manager. He says that it hasn’t gotten smaller. But I know it has. It’s not just a gut feeling. I know it’s smaller. And the worst part is, I always used to tell people that Captain D’s was way better than Long John Silver’s. There was no debate. The fries are better are Captain D’s, the fish sandwich is better and it’s a better place to hang out overall. Long John Silver’s always has a group of loud black kids, and I don’t want to be racist about it, because it’s not like I don’t like them because they’re black, it’s because they’re loud and the girls always start fighting over who paid for what. They always come in right behind me. This has happened five times, at least. It’s like they follow me around town, waiting for when I want to go Long John Silver’s and then they come in and talk loudly and ruin my meal. These kids shouldn’t be allowed to leave school for lunch anyway. Anyway. The fish sandwich at Captain D’s is smaller and it’s bullshit, right? These companies: they sell use the same shit year after year. It’s all the same ingredients, it’s all just corn syrup made to taste like fish or potatoes, and every year they make it smaller, or they sell us more for way more money than it’s worth. Because their profits have to go up and up every year. It’s Wall Street’s fault too. The guys on Wall Street aren’t happy if the profits stay the same year after year so they make the companies make more and more money. Now, these fast food companies can only sell so much food. There are only so many people on Earth and they can only eat so much. But they find ways of making us pay more for the same amount of food or they charge us the same and make the food smaller, or they they make the food bigger and make us pay more. So we eat more and get fatter and after that the companies will make more money and so will Wall Street and we will need to eat even more because once you’re eating that much day-to-day you need to eat even more to keep yourself full. It’s like crack. Captain D’s is a crack dealer and I’m its best crackhead. I’m its most loyal crackhead. I’m a proselytizing crackhead for Captain D’s. But now that their sandwich is smaller I might have to switch to Long John Silver’s. I’ll deal with those black kids. One day I’ll walk up to them and say, When you’re older you will think back on how you’re behaving right now and you’ll be embarrassed.

Gary 1: Maybe the sandwich isn’t getting smaller. Maybe you’re getting bigger so things look smaller. It’s like when you’re small everything looks bigger. So when you’re big everything looks smaller.

Gary 2: No, dude. The sandwich has gotten smaller. And it’s the same price. Don’t go to Captain D’s. I don’t want to hear that you went there.

Gary 1: I like Captain D’s. I’m still going there.

Gary 2: Don’t do it.

Bartender: Another round?

Gary 1: Yes.

Gary 2: Yes.

Gary 1: So Angie’s back in town. We had a long talk.

Gary 2: Oh boy. Here we go.

Gary 1: Well it wasn’t a talk, really. She wrote me a letter and made me read it in front of her.

Gary 2: What did it say?

Gary 1: It’s private.

Gary 2: Come on. I told you what that dermatologist chick said to me that one time.

Gary 1: Fine. [He pulls the letter out of his pocket. He reads from it:] It said: Gary, I hope you realize that I had to leave for a while to take care of Mom. Part of me wanted you to come with me but part of me didn’t want you to because you have a way of making bad situations worse. I don’t know if you know this but that is the truth.

Gary 2: Did her mom die?

Gary 1: No.

Gary 2: Is she going to?

Gary 1: Maybe not. Anyway. [reading from letter:] But now that I am back in town I want to be with you again. My heart wants to be with your heart. I think we have some things to work through but I am excited to work through them with you, together. One of them is that you need to grow up. You are twenty-six years old and you behave like you’re nineteen. You need to get a job that will support us and our family. You need to wear clothes that aren’t ridiculous-looking. And you need to stop calling women bitches. For example, I don’t like it when you call Oprah and Rachel Ray a bitch. I like Oprah and Rachel Ray. They are not bitches. I think you are calling them bitches because they are rich women and you are not a rich man and you don’t want women to be richer than you are. I know you have potential. You just have to work hard at something. When we talked on the phone and you told me about the Michigan football video you wanted to make I became upset, but I didn’t say so at the time. This video is the sort of thing you shouldn’t be doing. This is what children do, not grown men. You won’t make any money from the video. And anyways, it’s very sexist. You know that I am not some crazy feminist person but I can’t have a boyfriend who thinks boys wouldn’t go to a college because the women there are fat and ugly. I know that I have things to work through too. I am not perfect. For one, I need to be more patient with you. These changes of yours will not happen overnight. They will take time. But I’m willing to wait. Our love is worth it. I hope you feel the same way. Love, Angie.

Gary 2: Maaan. This is what I’m talking about. Men can’t be men anymore. So help me God if you don’t make the video anymore because Angie doesn’t want you to.

Gary 1: We’ll see.

Gary 2: Don’t give me that. Don’t say, we’ll see. We’re making the video.

Gary 1: We’ll see.

Gary 2: You’re not actually going to get back with her, are you? Aren’t you with Burger King now?

Gary 1: Linda. You can’t call her Burger King anymore. You can’t call a girl by the goofy name you gave her when you first met her after you’ve been dating for a month. And that’s the thing. I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to choose.

Gary 2: Want me to help you choose?

Gary 1: Not really.

Gary 2: I’m going to anyway. Choose Linda. She’s sooo much cooler. She loves you for who you are. She’s not trying to make you into something else.

Gary 1: Not yet. Give her a few more months and she’ll be all like, When are you going to law school? Why don’t you make dinner sometimes? You shouldn’t eat hamburgers for breakfast. That kind of stuff. That’s what Angie says and I know that Linda will start saying it too.

Gary 2: Maybe you should dump both of them and find a ladybot to run around with.

Gary 1: Maybe I should. Maybe I’ll try to get back with Josephine.

Bartender: Another round, gents?

Gary 1: Yes.

Gary 2: Yes. Tell me more about Josephine’s vagina.

Gary 1: There’s a gooey nub that pulsates against your tip.

Gary 2: You’ve already told me that.

Gary 1: There are feathery pads that buff the sides of your dick. And it’s warm in there. It’s like a swamp inside a cave in there. A bear could hibernate in there.

NEXT: Do We Need Cynar? 9



You Can’t Un-Call The Cops

September 27, 2010

GARY 1 is at the bar drinking a gin and tonic. His unfortunate clothes indicate that he is not a busy or vital man. There is a tire iron on the bar next to Gary 1’s drink.

Bartender: The next thing I know, she’s calling the cops. And I’m like, Jesus, cut it out. Come back to bed. She says it’s because I hit her. But I didn’t hit her. She had bruises on her arms from God knows what but it wasn’t from me. She was so drunk that she convinced herself that I had beaten her. So she calls the cops.

Gary 1: That’s some shit right there.

Bartender: I’m telling you, these Huber Heights girls are the worst. That was the third crazy one I picked up. Actually, SHE picked up ME. I was talking with her friend all night and at two in the morning I say we should get out of here and she tells me she has a boyfriend, right, seven free drinks later. So this other girl, bruisey-arms, comes over and chats me up and drives me to her apartment and the minute we’re inside she’s grabbing my junk. Anyway. So she calls the cops. Now I have two options: stick around and deal with the cops or bolt.

Gary 2: You bolt. You have to.

Bartender: Right. So I put on my clothes and she’s like, Where are you going? You can’t leave. And I’m like, Watch me. And she says, You’re gonna leave without your wallet? I check my back pocket. No wallet. She’d taken it.

Gary 1: That is some shit.

Bartender: It gets worse. You need another g and t?

Gary 1: Please.

[Bartender pours gin and squirts tonic from the gun and slips a lime wedge on the rim.]

Bartender: So I say, Where is it? Give it to me. She says no. I’m like, I swear I will leave you alone forever. You will never hear from me again if you just give me the wallet right now. She reaches in her purse and pulls out the wallet and goes into the bathroom. I’m like, What the hell are you doing in there? She says, and I quote, Teaching you a lesson. Then I hear the toilet flush.

Gary 1: You got to be kidding me.

Bartender: The fucking bitch tried to flush my wallet down the toilet. I run in there and she’s laughing maniacally. She’s naked this whole time, by the way. I push her aside and reach in the toilet. What kind of lesson was she teaching me? God knows. I didn’t even ask. I pull out the wallet. I had like eighty bucks in there, and it’s all soaked, all my cards are soaked, it’s a disaster. I’m screaming at this bitch: You are such a fucking whore! All you Huber girls are fucking disgusting! It’s real bad. She’s crying now and begging me not to leave. She’s like, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll call the cops again and tell them not to come. I’m like, Honey, you can’t un-call the cops. Once you call the cops and tell them a guy is beating you, the cops are coming.

Gary 1: That’s the truth.

Bartender: So she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me into the bedroom and begs me to lay on the bed. And she’s grabbing my junk with both hands, just begging me to stay. I ask her what she’s trying to do and she says I think you know what I’m trying to do. Relax. She starts taking my pants off. I’m like, Jesus, the effing cops are gonna be here any second and you’re trying to fuck me again? Are you nuts? Which was a dumb question because I already knew she was crazy, and crazy-drunk, I don’t know why I stuck around that long. Maybe part of me wanted to fuck her again, I don’t know. Long story short [the phone rings] hold on a sec. [Bartender answers it.] Oh hi. Listen, I can’t have you calling me here. No, it’s not that. I just. Please, listen to me. I’ll be over at two. I know it’s late but that’s the earliest I can be over tonight. Are you gonna be awake this time? You promise? Good. Wear whatever you want; I don’t care what you wear. No, it’s not that I don’t care what you look like. I’m just saying I don’t care what you have on, we’re not going out to dinner or anything. I said I’d take you out sometime, and I will, just not tonight because it’s gonna be two in the morning by the time I get over there. Wear a tank top. And jeans. The ripped jeans. What do you mean you don’t know what I’m talking about? The jeans with the rips in the ass. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. See you later. [he hangs up]

Gary 1: What was that all about?

Bartender: I better not say.

Gary 1: Come one, what does it matter?

Bartender: It’s just. It’s a little weird I guess.

Gary 1: How is it weird?

Bartender: Promise you won’t be upset?

Gary 1: What, are you fucking my sister?

Bartender: I’ve been seeing Josephine, the bot.

Gary 1: Are you serious? She is such a little fuckbot. At least five people I’ve talked to lately are either seeing her right now or they have been with her.

Bartender: I know. She has Dayton’s favorite pussy. You know what I’m talking about. YOU KNOW. God damn, it’s a soggy carnival in there. It’s a mushy gash from heaven, a pudding made of ground up angel hearts, and I’m addicted to it. And I know she’s going to break my heart. This bot will flat-out ruin me, I know it?

Gary 1: Hang in there, it’ll be fine. Have some fun with her and when she stops calling, just find another one. Ladybots are part of the journey, not the destination. Remember that.

Bartender: I know, I know. But sometimes I think Josephine may be my destination. She says stuff to me. She talks about fate and how humans aren’t meant to be with humans; they’re meant to be with bots. She says every woman should have a hangbot and every man should have a ladybot because, anatomically, they work together better. Hangbots don’t get tired and they take forever to cum, and ladybots, or at least hybridbots, have vaginas that are infinitely more enjoyable than human vaginas.

Gary 1: You are preaching to the converted, my friend. But you can’t settle down with a bot. Your family would disown you for sure.

Bartender: I’d rather be with Josephine than be invited to cousin’s birthday parties and Easter egg hunts.

Gary 1: Fair enough. Tell her I say hi. She won’t remember me but say I’m the guy who watched Elf while she jacked off on my kitchen table. So what happened with the Huber girl?

Bartender: Right. So she’s on top of me, furiously riding me, like she’s trying to win a contest, and we hear a knock on the door. It’s the cops. So I’m like, Alright, cut it out. And she says, No, don’t stop. And she pins me down hard, nails in my shoulders. I’m fucking bleeding here and she balls her other hand in a fist and jams it in my mouth, gagging me, no joke. She is fisting my mouth and rage-fucking me like it’s the apocalypse. The cops knock again and shout, Open up, police! I say, Listen, we have to stop. And she says, Never stop, never stop. It’s like porn. We can hear them picking the lock. They’ve got a tool and they’re jimmying the door open. She turns around and says, Yes, yes, they’re coming in. Come one in, boys. She likes it. She’s getting off on this. I’m thinking, Oh Christ, this is her kink. She needs to fuck while cops break in her apartment or else she won‘t get off. And right as the they open the door, bingo, bango, this girl is all eeeh, eeeh, Jesus, Jesus, fuck, fuck: the loudest, shrillest orgasm you’ve ever heard. I look up and two cops are right next to the bed laughing their heads off. They ask if she called about the domestic violence complaint. And she says O hi boys, we worked it out. One of the copes says, Yeah it looks like it. So one cop takes out his radio and radios back to the station: Hey, we just came in here and the happy couple was fucking. Thought I’d let you know. The cop on the other end starts laughing. He says, Oh shit, this could be the girl. Ask her if her name is Dana. The cop turns to the Huber girl and says, Is your name Dana? And she says, Yeah, it’s me. The cop says, Yeah, her name is Dana. And Dana says, I didn’t know I had a reputation.

Gary 1: Unbelievable.

Bartender: She didn’t know she had a reputation. The cop tells me this is the sixth time this has happened. Each time she calls and says a dude is beating her but by the time the cops show up, she’s fucking him. The sixth time! And she didn’t think she had a reputation.

Gary 1: Did you guys get in trouble, like a fine?

Bartender: No. They said it’s worth driving out there for the stories.

Gary 1: And how’s the wallet?

Bartender: Totaled.

NEXT: The Fox in the Garage Part 12: The Fear



Who Let The Dogs Out? Woof, Woof, Woof, Woof

September 24, 2010

GARY 1 and GARY 2 are at the bar drinking gin and tonics. Their unfortunate clothes indicate that they are not busy or vital men. There is a tire iron on the bar next to Gary 1’s drink.

Gary 1: Did you hear about the hangbot who wouldn’t leave Denny’s? It was in the papers. It’s crazy. He said he wanted to have a permanent Denny’s hang. It’s open 24 hours so he thought he could stay there forever, ordering coffees and waters and playing hacky sack outside. He doesn’t have a job, of course, so what’s stopping him? During the fifth day of his hang Denny’s employees called the cops. This hangbot must be especially stupid. When the cops came and said he had to leave, the hangbot still wouldn’t go. According to the story he said, Hey, let’s all hang here for a while. I love a good policeman hang. And he tried to play with a cop’s gun. The cop was not amused and he tased him. As he was being tased the hangbot said, Aw man, I just hanging. I was just hanging!

Gary 2: Effing hangbots. You should have showed up and beat him with your tire iron. How many hangbots have you dealt with so far?

Gary 1: Only one.

Gary 2: What happened?

Gary 1: Last night I was at Darryl’s dad’s house, and it was me and Darryl’s dad and a hangbot named Opie playing cricket and drinking. It was a bad hang from the get-go. Every time it was my turn Opie would say woof woof to try to distract me. And if I landed something good, like a triple whatever, then Opie would say, Who let the dogs out? ‘Member that song? Sometimes he would sing it too: [singing] Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof, woof, woof. Talk about a bummer and a half. At one point I said, Opie, cut that out. What are you trying to do? Annoy the hell out of us? And you know what he said? I’ve had that song stuck in my head for ten years and I can’t get it out. But I think if I sing it all the time then one day it will leave my brain. I said, How do you still have that song in your head? And Opie said, I don’t know. I used to listen to it a lot when it came out and now I’m paying for it. Dearly. I saw a doctor about it, he was a head doctor, and he said I should drink more, that the drinking would help me get rid of it. So I drink all the time, but it’s still there: woof woof woof woof. Woof woof woof woof. He said he thinks about that song when he’s playing darts; he thinks about it when he’s doing it with a ladybot; he thinks about it when he’s dreaming; and he thinks about it when he’s shitting. The only time the song isn’t in his head is when he’s fighting someone.

Gary 2: I see where this is going.

Gary 1: So I said, That’s interesting. If you need someone to fight up, it would be my pleasure. I’m actually Dayton’s unofficial hangbot sheriff. And I pointed to the tire iron, which was leaning up against the wall. I make sure hangbots behave themselves, and if you keep singing that song while I’m throwing darts, you might just get that song out of your head for good. And then Darryl’s dad said he didn’t want any fights: Let’s just have good clean hang, please. So long story short, Darryl’s dad whooped us. It was sorry. He won three matches in a row. Having a dartboard in your basement is an obvious advantage. By midnight I was pretty drunk and needed food so I said I wanted to go to Skyline. So me and Opie drive to Skyline, the one near I-70. We’re eating coneys and no one’s saying anything and it’s weird because he knows that I would love to kick the shit out of him. And shit, I really want to. It would be my first hangbot beating. I was psyched. And then the weirdest thing happened. Do you know Cody, that hangbot?

Gary 2: The one that works at Teddy’s Laundromat?

Gary 1: Yeah. He’s always wearing that t-shirt that says LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD and sometimes he has beads in his hair like he just back from Jamaica.

Gary 2: I know him. One time in Darryl’s dad basement we talked about Little Feat for two hours. That guy’s OK with me.

Gary 1: So in walks Cody with his arm around Josephine. The hybridbot. MY hybridbot. The one with the wondrous vagina.

Gary 2: You never told me about her vagina.

Gary 1: Oh man, that’s right. OK, so real quick, then I’ll get back to the story: think of a regular girl’s vagina. From the outside, that’s what it looks like. But once you’re inside it’s a whole different ballgame. There are these tiny mechanisms, gooey machines, that vibrate and rotate and work your knob. There’s a flap that opens ever so slightly and sucks you in, and it’s like you’re on a spaceship and you’re in an air-tight room, that’s how snug you are. On the sides there are soft and foamy buffers that polish your dick. I’m telling you man, it’s a heavenly box, that’s for sure. And once I was in all the way I could feel a small pulsating nub against my tip. It’s a funhouse in there. As much as I hate hangbots, those scientists did something right when they made Josephine’s vagina. So anyway, in walks Cody with Josephine. Now I could give a rat’s. Hangbots are part of the journey, not the destination. But Opie breaks down, head in hands, red-faced, it’s a full-on sob. So I say, hey buddy, what’s wrong? Josephine, he says. She’s over there with some hangbot. I can’t take it. I just can’t take it. Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof woof, woof. Who let the dogs out? Woof, woof woof, woof. Turns out, they went out for a few months and it ended badly. Real badly. I swear, he sang that shit maybe four times. I say, Whatever you have to do, buddy. I’m sorry. The worst part was, Cody and Josephine sat at the booth directly behind us, and they’re cuddling and kissing and Cody’s making her laugh and he’s petting her hair and feeding her coneys. Meanwhile, Opie has his face in his coney and his whimpering, Woof, woof, woof, woof. It was a sad scen.

Gary 2: So, did you beat his ass?

Gary 1: I’m getting to that. I asked him if he wanted me too. I said it would get his mind off the song and off Josephine. Now, I didn’t say that I had had Josephine, too. Seems like every dude and hangbot in town has been in her funhouse. That would’ve only made things worse. But I did say that he could do a lot better. I said he should shoot for a human someday and that I knew a few human ladies who would love to take him out. He said he didn’t want to do better. He wanted to do Josephine, again and again and again, for a week, until he destroyed those tiny machines in her pussy. Then he wanted to reach into her pussy rip out the gooey machines and eat them in front of Cody and any other hangbot who had fucked her. He was very upset. I tried to console him. I said, hey, how about we go out back and I kick the shit out of you? He asked if I thought that would makes things better. I said definitely.

Gary 2: You’re good at this stuff.

Gary 1: My mom was always falling in and out of love so I’ve been there before. So we go out back. We’re standing near the dumpster, and it reeks, and I’m thinking, Is this really how I spend my time now? This is it what it’s like to be in my twenties? Beating up lovesick hangbots behind a Skyline? He asks if he should do anything, if he should fight back. And I say, no, just stand still. Don’t move. And I hit him in the face, right in the eye to be more specific, and there’s blood everywhere. And that was it.

Gary 2: Just one punch?

Gary 1: That’s all he needed. He was crying like a babybot. I asked if he wanted to back inside and finish his coney and he was like, yeah, I do. I grab a few napkins from the counter wipe blood off his face. By then, Cody and Josephine had left, which made him feel alright.

Gary 2: Effing hangbots. They are such emotional wrecks. And so over-sexed. Oh man, did you hear that the state is now letting ladybots collect welfare? If they have kids. It doesn’t matter if the kid is all bot or half human and half bot. When you buy a gallon of gasoline for a hundred dollars, some of those taxes are going towards a babybot’s new skateboard. How does that make you feel, Mr. Sherriff?

Gary 1: This country is begging for people like us to take over and run shit the right way.

NEXT: You Can’t Un-Call The Cops



They Go To Michigan

September 3, 2010

GARY 1 and GARY 2 are at the bar drinking gin and tonics. They are drunker than usual. Their unfortunate clothes indicate that they are not busy or vital men. Gary 1 is reading from a football team’s roster.

Gary 1: This year alone there’s Jordan Kovacs, Fitzgerald Toussaint and Jake Ryan. Ryan’s a linebacker, too. That’s three. Jibreel Black. Pace and Omameh on the offensive line. Jerald Robinson and D.J. Williamson. Wide receivers. Brandon Moore. Kevin Koger. Curt Graman. Roy Roundtree. He’s from right here in Trotwood. So is Michael Shaw. Who am I not seeing here? Terrence Talbott. And Bell, another linebacker.  And that’s just this year. The point is, all these kids grew up in Ohio. They played high school football in Ohio. They were nurtured by Ohio’s fucking phenomenal football programs and when it came time to pick a college, what did they do? Where did they go? Of all the schools in the world, where did they go?

Gary 2: Michigan.

Gary 1: They go to Michigan. Ohio high school football is so good they’ve written books and made movies about it. Next to Texas, I don’t know who else is up there with Ohio. All these kids get world class, and I mean world class, football instruction. They could not have been luckier. To be born here and want to play football, you couldn’t ask for a better home state if you want to play for the NFL. But when Michigan comes knocking they forget about a hundred years of history and rivalry and say, Eh, fuck it. I’m gonna go to Ann Arbor and check out that scene. Why bother giving a shit when I can go to Michigan?

Gary 2: It is a problem. It’s a serious problem.

Gary 1: And it’s getting worse. Because some of these parents, they don’t care; they think Michigan is a better school because those magazine say it’s a better school. Prescott Burgess. He’s from Ohio. And Shawn Crable. He’s another traitor.

Gary 2: They should start a program in Ohio schools that teaches, no, that brainwashes kids into going to OSU. The coach would take them aside after practice, the best players, the ones who are going to play in the NFL maybe. The coach takes take them aside and shows them a video about Ann Arbor and how all the girls there are nasty and have herpes or whatever and also that the dudes on the team will haze the shit out of you in the locker room if you’re from Ohio. Stuff like that.

Gary 1: I’m with ya. There’d be pictures of rancid food from the cafeteria. And then it’d show a fat Michigan girl eating it and pointing at the camera and licking her fingers all nasty-like. I’m not sure if the state would sponsor this. But we could make it. It would be easy.

Gary 2: And we could sell it to the schools. Not all the schools. Only the best ones. The best seven to ten.

Gary 1: There’s Solon and St. Ignatius up north. Massillon and Dublin Coffman. We could hit all those in a weekend. Maybe even stop at Cedar Point too, we’ll see if there’s time for that. We could make a weekend out of it. Go on a little bender up north, spreading the good word to the would-be traitors.

Gary 2: And then down here you got Xavier, Moeller, Anderson. We could do those in an afternoon. We should make the video first and then plan the distribution route. Who do you know who makes videos? And I mean good videos, not home videos. This isn’t an American Funniest Home Videos video. This is a documentary. A useful documentary.

Gary 1: My buddy Devin used to make videos for the public access channel so maybe he’d be game. I’ll give him a call sometime.

Gary 2: Sometime? Call him right now. Get this shit rolling.

Gary 1: You want me to call Devin Jeffers right now and ask him if he wants to make a video?

Gary 2: It’s a short documentary film. It’s not a video, man. Yeah. I do it. I’ll call him. [he takes Gary 1's phone and find Devin’s number and calls him.] Hey. Is this Devin? Hey, man. You don’t really know me. I’m Gary Pollan. I’m a friend of Gary Welles’. Anyway, I’m calling about making movies. I got two questions: Do you still make them? And if so, would you be willing to help us out with one? No, we don’t have money to pay you, but it will be a fun couple of days and we will buy all the food and the beer. We’ll be shooting in Michigan and maybe in Dayton too. We haven’t planned all the logistics yet but it’s gonna change the lives of a lot of kids. You probably want to know what it is. OK. So you know how every year a few kids who play high school football in Ohio go to Michigan? And how it’s sacrilegious. I know, it’s bullshit. Well. Me and Gary are gonna make an instructional video that warns these kids about going there. It might be a little exaggerated but we’re gonna scare them into going at OSU. We’re gonna need shots of gross Michigan girls in Michigan sweatpants with the UM logo on the ass. So they associate the UM logo with nastiness. I’m talking about those baggy sweatpants college girls wear to class and when it rains the sweatpants drag in the water and they get all wet and it looks like shit. We need a few of shots like that, with the wet sweatpants clinging to Ugg boots. And these girls should be real big too. Like I said, we can’t pay you money but we’ll buy all the beer and food. I don’t know when it will be; let me ask Gary. Hey, when can you do this?

Gary 1: Early August maybe. Shit, I can do it whenever, man. What else am I doing?

Gary 2: We can do it whenever. We don’t have a whole going on. Oh, I see. And how often do you have to go to your work? Monday through Friday. Every week? I see. So it’s like a job job, like an adult job. Do you get direct deposit for that or do they give you paper checks? The money just goes right into your checking account, no questions asked, huh? That’s good stuff, Devin. I’m happy for you. So what would work for you, then? A weekend, I’m guessing. Alright. Let us know and we’ll look forward to hearing you. I won’t be as drunk next time we talk and we can really get down do business and start planning these shots. And hey buddy, you’re in charge of finding the big girls. That’s your job. I’m putting that one on you. I’ll buy the beer; you find the big girls. See ya. [hangs up]

Gary 1: What’d he say?

Gary 2: He said maybe.

Gary 1: We’re gonna have to take that as a yes. When you start a project like this you have to be in Yes mode. No downers, no bummers. I saw this thing on PBS once about painters and how artists have to persevere and they have to be optimistic deep down, maybe not about the world but about their own life, so if we’re gonna make this movie we have to be optimistic about everything. If Devin backs out then we’ll find someone else to hold the camera. I’ll learn how to if it comes to that.

Gary 2: Brandon Harrison. Another asshole. He was from Dayton. Mike Massey. Tight end, I think.

Bartender: Another round, gents?

Gary 2: Yes please. And no fruit this time.

Gary 1: Same.

Bartender: Not to butt in, but I couldn’t help but notice you were talking about high school football players who leave Ohio to play for Ann Arbor, and I gotta tell you, nothing pissed off my old man more than hearing about another kid from Ohio suit up for Michigan. He would yell at my mother about it. He would blame it on her. And she’d say, I’m not in charge of these kids’ lives. And neither are you so shut up about it. Now how about put all that anger into cleaning the gutters real good.

Gary 1: It is a serious problem in this country.

Bartender: That’s the truth. Same goes for kids who don’t play football. Just regular folks who want to get good jobs. Ohio has great public schools; kids here get great educations. And lot of them go to Ohio colleges, which are also great. OSU: great school. Miami: great school. OU: good enough. And when they’re 22, 23, 24, what do they do? They leave. See ya, everyone, I’m off to Chicago. I’m off to New York City. I’m off to fucking Atlanta. We have three large cities but all these kids think they’re hot shit and that they’re entitled to live wherever they want. Anywhere but Ohio. Ohio can’t keep its young people, and I’m talking about the young engineers, the kids in med school, graphic designers, what have you. All those engineering kids go to OSU to get a world class engineering education and then they have to move away to find work, and what does that do to the tax base? What does it do t0 the education system? What will it mean for the next generation? Think about that. Alright, that’s enough bullshit out of me.

NEXT: The Fox in the Garage Part 11: The Rake



The Hangbot Sheriff

August 20, 2010

GARY 1 and GARY 2 are at the bar drinking gin and tonics. Their unfortunate clothes indicate that they are not busy or vital men. There is a tire iron on the bar next to Gary 1’s drink.

Gary 1: It was the best weapon I could find in my dad’s garage.

Gary 2: It’s super-rusty.

Gary 1: I’ll wear gloves then. No big whoop.

Gary 2: So what’s your plan? You’re gonna go around town beating up hangbots?

Gary 1: No, man. I’m not going on a rampage. It’s just in case I see a hangbot doing something… something bad. The cops just look the other way. Somebody’s got to keep shit real.

Gary 2: What do hangbots do that’s bad?

Gary 1: Noise pollute, for one. A lot of them play music loudly while they’re hanging out. And they hang out with girls and corrupt them and then don’t call them back.

Gary 2: You hang out with girls and corrupt them and don’t call them back.

Gary 1: Not anymore. I’ve got a lady now. I’m done hanging out.

Gary 2: Who? Burger King?

Gary 1: Her name is Linda, and we’re giving it a shot I think.

Gary 2: How many times have you hung out with her?

Gary 1: Three.

Gary 2: Woah. You’re settling down with a girl you’ve hung out with three times?

Gary 1: Why keep hanging out with other girls when you know you want to hang out with one?

Gary 2: I guess that makes sense. So what you’re saying is, you’re done hunting trim and now you’re gonna hunt hangbots?

Gary 1: I’m not hunting hangbots. I’m keeping shit real. I’m gonna be Dayton’s unofficial hangbot sheriff. You want in? You want to be my deputy?

Gary 2: What would I have to do?

Gary 1: First you’d have to get a tire iron, or another weapon. No guns. And nothing weird, like a Samurai sword.

Gary 2: How about a putter?

Gary 1: A driver would be better.

Gary 2: I’ll see what I can do.

Gary 1: And then you gotta come with me when I go on patrol.

Gary 2: Where are you gonna patrol?

Gary 1: Downtown. Carillon Park. The Oregon District. Wherever hangbots are hassling people.

Gary 2: You think you could take a hangbot?

Gary 1: I’m sure I can.

Gary 2: What if the scientists made them really strong? That ladybot I got with wasn’t a dainty lady. She was cut.

Gary 1: Every hangbot I’ve met has been a pussy. And hangbots don’t carry weapons so I’ll be fine.

Gary 2: What if you get jumped by a pack of hangbots?

Gary 1: That’s why I’ll need my deputy. For back up.

Gary 2: I’ll consider it. How often are you gonna go out on patrol?

Gary 1: Whenever I’m not hanging out with Linda or drinking here.

Gary 2: Alright. I’m considering it.

Gary 1: I asked Linda if she wanted to help too and she said she’d make badges. She’s very talented.

Gary 2: Oh? Is that why you’re hanging out with her, because she’s good with her hands?

Gary 1: No. Not only that. She’s funny and she has a cool cat and she’s kinda like a whatever girl.

Gary 2: What’s a whatever girl?

Gary 1: A whatever girl is a girl who’s whatever about everything. She doesn’t hassle me about shit. She never says I can’t go out and hunt trim, but I’m not going to anyway. And she just takes shit as it comes. There’s no drama with her. Her effing house burned down and she’s been living in the garage but she’s been pretty whatever about it.

Gary 2: How did her house burn down?

Gary 1: She says a fox did it. She says there’s a fox living in the garage but every time I go over I never see it. She’s a little crazy. But the crazy ones are always crazy in the sack too.

Gary 2: Oh yeah? You guys do weird shit?

Gary 1: Oh yeah. She’s also whatever about TV. She lets me watch what I want to watch. Angie was always putting on the Bachelor or the local news or some shit.

Gary 2: Well that’s good. Maybe I’ll find myself a whatever girl. Does Linda have any whatever friends?

Gary 1: I don’t think so. All her friends are dudes and they’re not really her friends anymore because they’re friends with her ex-boyfriend. But I’ll ask.

NEXT: The Third Hang At The Other Laundromat



« Previous Entries  

ryanthomasgrim [AT] gmail
Published Work

Page 1: The Fox in the Garage

How I Started a Family

Do We Need Cynar?

Gary 1 and Gary 2

I Work at a Fashionable Hotel Called the Hudson

C.O.D.Y. the Robot Who Hangs Out

Ann and Her Birdhouses

Luke and His Bobber

The Fox in the Garage in 3-D

105 Stories About Ohio


The Slugman of Herbert Street

Harold and the Purple Women


Dos Factotum

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