Chapter 1: Meet the Hurlies
Mr. And Mrs. Hurly, of #4 Private Part Drive were proud to say they had the largest weed plant in the country, thank-you very much! They were the first people you'd think to be involved in any drug busts or illegal house parties because they were always getting into such nonsense. Mr. Hurly was the director of a company called "Fun-in-tons," which made midnight pleasures more fun. He had a big beefy... You know, but he was always out of viagra, although he had a very large view of wild nights... Mrs. Hurly was fat and scrawny, and was so stupid when she saw a sign that said "Wet Floor" she actually wet the floor... She also spent a lot of her time spying on what the neighbors were doing in their bedrooms at night... The Hurly's had a small son called "Pudgy" and in their opinion, he would grow up to be the biggest drug lord of alllll time! The Hurly's had all the weed they needed, but they also had to keep it a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it and smoke it all to themselves! They couldn't bare the thought of anybody finding out about their secret stash of pot... It came from the most evil family in the world, luckily they were all dead, The Potheads. Mrs. Pothead was Mrs. Hurly's sister, and they hadn't met for 7 years. In fact, Mrs. Hurly pretended she never had a sister that dealt her pot because Mrs. Pothead and her stoner husband were as un-hurliesh as it was possible to be! The Hurly's gawked at what the neighbors would say if they found their secret stash and stole it all to themselves... The Hurly's knew that the Potheads had a small son too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potheads away, because if he ever visited, he was sure to smoke their weed garden!
When Mr. and Mrs. Hurly woke up on the smoky gray Sunday afternoon, our story starts; it was nothing to think that there would certainly be a drug bust somewhere in town today. At least 5000 across the country maybe even. Mr. Hurly hummed as he picked out his most screwed up tie yet and Mrs. Hurly gossiped away, trying not to give away the weed, while trying to wrestle a screaming Pudgy into his chair... Literally. None of them noticed a super giant marijuana leaf fly past the window in the strong winds of Sunday.
At half past 12, Mr. Hurly picked up his briefcase full of beer, pecked Mrs. Hurly on the cheek and tried to slap Pudgy's fat little face so he would stop that retarted screaming. Pudgy threw his "Cracky Charms" across the kitchen and his bowl smashed onto the wall letting his Cracky Charms splutter to the ground. "Little bitch! Heheheee!" chuckled Mr. Hurly as he barraged out the door. He got into his brand new Lamborghini and backed out of #4 drive. As he drove, on the corner of the street, he noticed something... Strange. A cat. A cat smokin' a bowl whilst reading the newspaper. For a second Mr. Hurly didn't realize what he had seen and accidentally drove into the ditch. He backed out and kept on driving, how retarted this man was... Cats couldn't smoke a bowl, and they couldn't read newspapers... Could they? Mr. Hurly pulled out a cigarette, smoked it real quick and washed it down with some moonshine.
As he drove to town, he thought of nothing except a large shipment of weed he was expecting later that day. But on the edge of the town, weed was drilled to the edge of his mind by something else... As he looked he could make out a figure of what was a man in a Barney suit. Then another. Soon he realized everyone on the street was wearing Barney suits. He ignored it and kept on driving. Mr. Hurly couldn't bare people who dressed up like Barney... Surely they could at least dress up like Smokey the clown! "Flabergastic!" he mumbled in a ruffed voice. He supposed this was a new fashion, and he fingered a group of these, "weirdoes," while passing by a stoplight. He ran straight through it to make a break away. He kept hearing them at every light, whispering in their gay tongue... Mr. Hurly was enraged to see that most of them weren't gay at all! Some were straight and still wearing these damn Barney suits... Why, that man had to be older then he was! And wearing a Baby-Bop emerald green suit? "For the love of god... Go smoke a bowl..." he chanted.
A few minutes later, Mr. Hurly arrived back at the "Fun-in-tons" parking lot; his mind cleared and back on drills. Mr. Hurly always sat with his back to the window, in his office on the 13th floor... Just in case things got serious, he could always jump and make things right again. Hehe. Today he never noticed the large marijuana leaf swoop past him across the window in broad daylight, though people down in the street did, and started cheering it on... Hoping it would land in their own hands! They pointed and gazed open eyed at the large plants, yes, plants, sped overhead. Most of them were already stoned, but they didn't care. Mr. Hurly, however, had a perfectly money-raking morning. He yelled at 16 different people, made several arrangements for lunch and then broke his computer screen for no apparent reason.
Things were going great! He was in a great mood, and decided to walk over the McDonalds and buy himself a sausage McMuffin... Even though everybody knows breakfast is over at 10:30 at McDonalds... He had forgotten all about the people in Barney suits until he passed a group of them wandering about the streets next to McDonalds. He fingered them angrily. "You bastard..." he mumbled as he passed. He didn't know why but they made him mad.
It was when he came out of McDonalds that he caught a few words of what they were saying... "The Potheads... Yes! That's what I heard! Their son, Harry!" Mr. Hurly wished he were dead. These damned people were making him fed up. He wanted to shove a wrench down all of their throats! He dashed across the street, ran to his office, and went straight to his porta-potty to let it all out... After an hour-long shit, he came out and felt relieved. He thought for a minute. NO... He was being a jackass; Pothead wasn't an unusual name... He was sure there were lots of people called "Pothead" who had a son called "Harry." Come to think of it... He was sure his nephew's name was in-fact, "Gaylord Pothead." He had never even met the boy! Thank god... It might've been Susie or Bitchface... He didn't know. There was no point in warning his bitchy wife... She always got half-assed with any mention of the Potheads. He didn't blame her, if he'd had a sister like that, he'd probably lose his mind.
When he came out of his building for work at the end of the day, he was so high he accidentally walked into some gayass. "Sorry" he said stubbornly in a 5-year-old child's voice as the tiny old man stumbled and fell. This man was wearing a Barney suit. He didn't seem upset with being knocked to the ground...
"Don't be sorry you half-assed bastard! For you-know-who has been shot in the head 5 times with a 5 caliber! Even huggles such as yourself should be celebrating this happy happy day!" The old man hugged Mr. Hurly around the neck and ran. Mr. Hurly was pissed... Being called a huggle and all. What a bitch.
He drove home pissed. He passed more people in Barney suits and heard more jibber-jabber. As he pulled up to #4, he realized that big fat cat was still there... But he wasn't smokin' a bowl OR reading a newspaper... It was sitting in his garden! He jumped out of his car and screamed: "SHOO! SHOO! OUT YOU BASTARD!! OUT!!" he screamed in rage as the cat got up slowly and waddled away. He carefully checked his garden. Thank god, all of his "stuff" was still there. He puffed in relief, got his briefcase from the car and walked into his humble home.
Mrs. Hurly had, had a normal day and told Mr. Hurly about the gossip she had heard and how Pudgy had learned a new word: "Shit!" Mr. Hurly acted normal and after Pudgy was in bed, he sat down to watch the evening news.
"And our top story today is Marijuana Leaves sweeping the nation! Thousands of sightings have been spotted, swooshing everywhere, whether it be 1000 feet high, or in the streets of New York." The newscaster grinned and smirked as he tripped and fell. Mr. Hurly clicked off the television. Mrs. Hurly came into the living room carrying two cups of "special" tea with "special" tealeaves. It was no good, he HAD to say something to her. He cleared his throat.
"Uh... Petunia dear, you haven't heard from your sister lately have you?" Mrs. Hurly was enraged. "Get over it bitch, I asked you a question!" shouted Mr. Hurly.
"NO! I haven't!" she said sharply. "Why do you ask dear?" she said.
"Funny things on the news... You know. Marijuana Leaves, Barney Suits, Shootings..." he went on.
"And... What does that have to do with my sister?" she asked. She gave the, "the look," oh, how he hated the look...
"Oh... I don't know..." he wondered whether he should say something about hearing the name Pothead come up. He decided not to dare. Instead, he said, "They're son... He'd be about Pudgy's age about now, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose sooooo," she said highly.
"What's his name again? Bitchface isn't it? Maybe Bitchfest?" asked Mr. Hurly.
"Harry... Nasty name."
"Oh yesss... I quite agree with you my love... I quite agree..." his heart started going at 500,000 beats per minute now. He didn't say another word and carried on with the events of the night...
Mr. And Mrs. Hurly, of #4 Private Part Drive were proud to say they had the largest weed plant in the country, thank-you very much! They were the first people you'd think to be involved in any drug busts or illegal house parties because they were always getting into such nonsense. Mr. Hurly was the director of a company called "Fun-in-tons," which made midnight pleasures more fun. He had a big beefy... You know, but he was always out of viagra, although he had a very large view of wild nights... Mrs. Hurly was fat and scrawny, and was so stupid when she saw a sign that said "Wet Floor" she actually wet the floor... She also spent a lot of her time spying on what the neighbors were doing in their bedrooms at night... The Hurly's had a small son called "Pudgy" and in their opinion, he would grow up to be the biggest drug lord of alllll time! The Hurly's had all the weed they needed, but they also had to keep it a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it and smoke it all to themselves! They couldn't bare the thought of anybody finding out about their secret stash of pot... It came from the most evil family in the world, luckily they were all dead, The Potheads. Mrs. Pothead was Mrs. Hurly's sister, and they hadn't met for 7 years. In fact, Mrs. Hurly pretended she never had a sister that dealt her pot because Mrs. Pothead and her stoner husband were as un-hurliesh as it was possible to be! The Hurly's gawked at what the neighbors would say if they found their secret stash and stole it all to themselves... The Hurly's knew that the Potheads had a small son too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potheads away, because if he ever visited, he was sure to smoke their weed garden!
When Mr. and Mrs. Hurly woke up on the smoky gray Sunday afternoon, our story starts; it was nothing to think that there would certainly be a drug bust somewhere in town today. At least 5000 across the country maybe even. Mr. Hurly hummed as he picked out his most screwed up tie yet and Mrs. Hurly gossiped away, trying not to give away the weed, while trying to wrestle a screaming Pudgy into his chair... Literally. None of them noticed a super giant marijuana leaf fly past the window in the strong winds of Sunday.
At half past 12, Mr. Hurly picked up his briefcase full of beer, pecked Mrs. Hurly on the cheek and tried to slap Pudgy's fat little face so he would stop that retarted screaming. Pudgy threw his "Cracky Charms" across the kitchen and his bowl smashed onto the wall letting his Cracky Charms splutter to the ground. "Little bitch! Heheheee!" chuckled Mr. Hurly as he barraged out the door. He got into his brand new Lamborghini and backed out of #4 drive. As he drove, on the corner of the street, he noticed something... Strange. A cat. A cat smokin' a bowl whilst reading the newspaper. For a second Mr. Hurly didn't realize what he had seen and accidentally drove into the ditch. He backed out and kept on driving, how retarted this man was... Cats couldn't smoke a bowl, and they couldn't read newspapers... Could they? Mr. Hurly pulled out a cigarette, smoked it real quick and washed it down with some moonshine.
As he drove to town, he thought of nothing except a large shipment of weed he was expecting later that day. But on the edge of the town, weed was drilled to the edge of his mind by something else... As he looked he could make out a figure of what was a man in a Barney suit. Then another. Soon he realized everyone on the street was wearing Barney suits. He ignored it and kept on driving. Mr. Hurly couldn't bare people who dressed up like Barney... Surely they could at least dress up like Smokey the clown! "Flabergastic!" he mumbled in a ruffed voice. He supposed this was a new fashion, and he fingered a group of these, "weirdoes," while passing by a stoplight. He ran straight through it to make a break away. He kept hearing them at every light, whispering in their gay tongue... Mr. Hurly was enraged to see that most of them weren't gay at all! Some were straight and still wearing these damn Barney suits... Why, that man had to be older then he was! And wearing a Baby-Bop emerald green suit? "For the love of god... Go smoke a bowl..." he chanted.
A few minutes later, Mr. Hurly arrived back at the "Fun-in-tons" parking lot; his mind cleared and back on drills. Mr. Hurly always sat with his back to the window, in his office on the 13th floor... Just in case things got serious, he could always jump and make things right again. Hehe. Today he never noticed the large marijuana leaf swoop past him across the window in broad daylight, though people down in the street did, and started cheering it on... Hoping it would land in their own hands! They pointed and gazed open eyed at the large plants, yes, plants, sped overhead. Most of them were already stoned, but they didn't care. Mr. Hurly, however, had a perfectly money-raking morning. He yelled at 16 different people, made several arrangements for lunch and then broke his computer screen for no apparent reason.
Things were going great! He was in a great mood, and decided to walk over the McDonalds and buy himself a sausage McMuffin... Even though everybody knows breakfast is over at 10:30 at McDonalds... He had forgotten all about the people in Barney suits until he passed a group of them wandering about the streets next to McDonalds. He fingered them angrily. "You bastard..." he mumbled as he passed. He didn't know why but they made him mad.
It was when he came out of McDonalds that he caught a few words of what they were saying... "The Potheads... Yes! That's what I heard! Their son, Harry!" Mr. Hurly wished he were dead. These damned people were making him fed up. He wanted to shove a wrench down all of their throats! He dashed across the street, ran to his office, and went straight to his porta-potty to let it all out... After an hour-long shit, he came out and felt relieved. He thought for a minute. NO... He was being a jackass; Pothead wasn't an unusual name... He was sure there were lots of people called "Pothead" who had a son called "Harry." Come to think of it... He was sure his nephew's name was in-fact, "Gaylord Pothead." He had never even met the boy! Thank god... It might've been Susie or Bitchface... He didn't know. There was no point in warning his bitchy wife... She always got half-assed with any mention of the Potheads. He didn't blame her, if he'd had a sister like that, he'd probably lose his mind.
When he came out of his building for work at the end of the day, he was so high he accidentally walked into some gayass. "Sorry" he said stubbornly in a 5-year-old child's voice as the tiny old man stumbled and fell. This man was wearing a Barney suit. He didn't seem upset with being knocked to the ground...
"Don't be sorry you half-assed bastard! For you-know-who has been shot in the head 5 times with a 5 caliber! Even huggles such as yourself should be celebrating this happy happy day!" The old man hugged Mr. Hurly around the neck and ran. Mr. Hurly was pissed... Being called a huggle and all. What a bitch.
He drove home pissed. He passed more people in Barney suits and heard more jibber-jabber. As he pulled up to #4, he realized that big fat cat was still there... But he wasn't smokin' a bowl OR reading a newspaper... It was sitting in his garden! He jumped out of his car and screamed: "SHOO! SHOO! OUT YOU BASTARD!! OUT!!" he screamed in rage as the cat got up slowly and waddled away. He carefully checked his garden. Thank god, all of his "stuff" was still there. He puffed in relief, got his briefcase from the car and walked into his humble home.
Mrs. Hurly had, had a normal day and told Mr. Hurly about the gossip she had heard and how Pudgy had learned a new word: "Shit!" Mr. Hurly acted normal and after Pudgy was in bed, he sat down to watch the evening news.
"And our top story today is Marijuana Leaves sweeping the nation! Thousands of sightings have been spotted, swooshing everywhere, whether it be 1000 feet high, or in the streets of New York." The newscaster grinned and smirked as he tripped and fell. Mr. Hurly clicked off the television. Mrs. Hurly came into the living room carrying two cups of "special" tea with "special" tealeaves. It was no good, he HAD to say something to her. He cleared his throat.
"Uh... Petunia dear, you haven't heard from your sister lately have you?" Mrs. Hurly was enraged. "Get over it bitch, I asked you a question!" shouted Mr. Hurly.
"NO! I haven't!" she said sharply. "Why do you ask dear?" she said.
"Funny things on the news... You know. Marijuana Leaves, Barney Suits, Shootings..." he went on.
"And... What does that have to do with my sister?" she asked. She gave the, "the look," oh, how he hated the look...
"Oh... I don't know..." he wondered whether he should say something about hearing the name Pothead come up. He decided not to dare. Instead, he said, "They're son... He'd be about Pudgy's age about now, wouldn't he?"
"I suppose sooooo," she said highly.
"What's his name again? Bitchface isn't it? Maybe Bitchfest?" asked Mr. Hurly.
"Harry... Nasty name."
"Oh yesss... I quite agree with you my love... I quite agree..." his heart started going at 500,000 beats per minute now. He didn't say another word and carried on with the events of the night...