Disclaimer: God knows I've tried but I still don't own a thing. The spoils of this war belong to Harris, In Living Color and Austin Powers people.
The freaks come out at night…well, actually all day long in this case.
"Jesus Christ! How the fuck are we supposed to concentrate with these fucking freaks in our line of sight?" Now, this question goes out to anyone because I'm just not that picky anymore.
"Where the fuck did Bill get these people? Is there some 1-800-GET-AFREAK hotline? Is there a website that employs these nut cases for special events? Is being a freak with questionable to zero sanity a recognized occupation by the IRS? Please tell me some of you are thinking these questions, and I happen to be the only vocalizing my concerns? Please?" Can I get an 'Amen'?
"No. I'm right there with you. I'm just in shock." Thank you my WIFE. Is this stupid tournament over yet? I'm ready to get married. I think 3 children sounds like a good number. One word…HONEYMOON! How long does it take to plan a wedding anyway? Like a week? Vegas?
Let's see…venue, caterer, cake, flowers, DJ…
Now, I understand.
I completely understand why so many people have decided to converge into this abyss of hell…or arena…whatever you want to call it.
No matter whether your drug of choice is illegal or experimental, whether you can walk a straight line or not, if your gene pool is very tiny with larvae filled water, or even if the woman in your life is also your best friend/ mother/ girlfriend/cousin…you can walk freely in this building and no one would be the wiser.
Maybe if I take my allergy medication everything will seem better?
This shit just scares the fuck out of me.
I really hope most of these people are from out of town.
"I knew I should have worn my utility belt! Damn it!" She's a sick, sick woman.
Just then, the lights go out throughout the whole arena. Someone didn't pay the bill. Hallejuah!
"Yeah, let's turn out the lights with all the crazy people in the building and the wild animals. That sounds like a great idea."
The Star Wars theme music begins to blare as a spotlight shines onto Bill's box seat and a dramatic lightshow begins.
Shit. Who's going to die now?
The next moment, 6 spider monkeys propel themselves from the ceiling of the arena to the box seat area.
This is going to be fucking awesome!
I think they're dressed like Star Wars characters. Forget the freaks…Star Wars monkeys are in battle.
I wonder if they will re-enact the scene where Luke's loses his hand. That's a good one.
"Freaking Moose is Darth Vader. It looks like The Dark Side is nicely represented by The Emperor and a Storm Trooper, as well. Yoda, Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca are the line-up for The Republic. Very interesting, hopefully an even match."
"Look at monkey Chewbacca. He's so cute. And that baby Darth Vader is adorable."
"Sookie, I believe they're going for a menacing vibe."
"How the hell can spider monkeys dressed in Star Wars costumes with baby light sabers be menacing in any way? It's the cutest thing I've ever seen." Silly woman, wait until you see our babies. All 5 of them.
"Holy shit! These monkeys are really getting into this. They're going to fight alla Jedi style! Where's the kettle corn, Eric?"
"Of course they're going to fight, Stan. Vader just insulted Yoda."
"Look at them go!"
"Luke, that's your father, damn it!" Laf, this isn't exactly a featherweight boxing fight we're witnessing here. The man is going to blow a vessel.
"The Emperor just smacked Yoda upside the head!"
"Oh my god, Clancy! Get up Yoda! Chewbacca get your hairy ass over there and help Yoda for Godsake!"
So apparently spider monkeys saber fighting will bring the ass-kicker out of Appius, but a ball to his sack, not so much. That's too confusing.
"Master Yoda, kick that wrinkled old monkey's ass!" Didn't these guys see The Star Wars Trilogy? Nobody messes with Yoda.
That's Star Wars 101.
"There are no wrestling moves in Star Wars. Right, Eric? I don't remember Vader body slamming Luke."
"Sookie, this is turning into a smackdown. We're talking cage fight shit."
Oh no. Not the idiot EMT guy?
Is he really going to do what I think he is?
Oh for the love of all that's holy, he can't seriously think he can stop this monkey brawl?
Some people never learn…Darwinism at work here. He still has the little monkey paw print on his face.
Why come back for seconds? It's just a bunch of tiny critters letting off a little tension.
Who the hell are they going to hurt…besides dumbass?
"You little monkeys, I'm tired of your sassing. Now stop your fussing and behave." Oh yeah, genius.
SMACK!
SMACK! SMACK!
SMACK!
"Kick his ass Vader!"
"AAAAGH!"
SMACK!
RAWWWW!
I didn't realize spider monkeys had a Viking battle cry. Who knew?
Oh here comes the announcer guy.
Yeah, I think it's time to change the spotlight to the stage floor. Leave the monkeys a little privacy.
Looks like they're going to drag that guy outside and settle their shit.
If William Shatner wasn't standing in the center of the dodgeball court, I'd be outside in a heartbeat.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentleman! I'd like to welcome everyone to the first annual Louisiana Area Dodgeball Tournament. I'm William Shatner and I'll be your announcer for the tournament. I'd like to introduce you to your commentators for this tournament…Quinn "The Big Tiger" Jones and Alcide "Papa Bear" Smith."
First Annual Louisiana Area Dodgeball Tournament?! I'm only doing this shit once!
Wow.
There are no words to express how epically disturbing watching these two men walk to their booth is affecting my brain.
First, I think they both are allergic to wearing shirts, which really isn't a big deal but the nipple bars and rings are throwing for a loop.
Secondly, the bald Quinn guy has on some shiny purple, gypsy MC Hammer pants, purple elf shoes, tiny black vest and fucking tiny ass black monkey top hat.
His partner is just as fucked up.
Papa Bear is sporting some way too tight black dress slacks, red suspenders and a black bow tie.
This scene is taking me back to In Living Color's Men In Film sketches.
If they start snapping their fingers in a Z and "It's Raining Men" starts playing on the loud speakers, I'm going to lose it. This shit is so bizarre it's great.
Are they wearing lip gloss?
At the rate this is going, I half expect Wanda to come running out onto the court. Although I'd really hope "Fire Marshall Bill at The Magic Show" would make an appearance instead.
"Those two guys look like the movie critics from In Living Color. The bald guy even has a tiny monkey top hat." You got that right, Clancy.
"What's 'In Living Color'?" Sacrilegious, Appius! How…can you…I can't even…oh my God…awful.
I take back every sympathetic thought I had when your balls met its maker during training. All of them!
Where are the damn screwdrivers? KICK HIM AGAIN, PAM!
"Thank you gentlemen. Next I'd like to introduce our judges. I don't know how we managed to trap, I mean bribe, I mean borrow, such esteemed judges for our tournament but I'm honored. This man needs no introduction. He put the karate in Karate and the cowboy hat in Texas Ranger…Chuck Norris!"
I guess his infomercials aren't doing so well? Maybe blackmail?
"Our next little judge comes straight from the spawn of evil and genius. Let's give a warm welcome to Mini-Me!" I wasn't expecting him.
Wow. I wonder if Dr. Evil is in the crowd?
"Our last judge hails from Scotland. He's a kilt wearing beast of gassy burden. What he lacks in manners he makes up for in nothing else. We give you…FAT BASTARD!"
Jesus H. Christ! He's like Jabba the Hut with limps and a kilt, sort of. That's so fucking gross…it's pure genius!
"Hmm, isn't he teeny tiny." Fat Bastard says licking his lips as he smirks. "Baby! It's what's for dinner. Yummm."
"You listen to me you fat fuck!" Mini-Me snarls. "I'm only telling you once. You stay on that side of the table and I won't beat you with your turkey legs." Pointing his stubby little finger at him.
"Now, now little guy, don't get upset. I'll sit between you. We have a tournament to judge."
"Yeah, don't get your pull-up in a bunch. You're a wee bit cranky this early in the day. Do you need a change? Do you have a turtle head poking out? Do you need a titty? I got two." Blowing a kiss to him.
Mini-Me flies out of his high chair, knocking it over, jumps onto Chuck Norris's lap and proceeds to wrap his body around Fat Bastard's head.
Chuck Norris attempts to disengage Mini-Me from his head/body lock.
Finally, Shatner comes over and tasers Mini-Me in the neck…which in turn sends a volt into Fat Bastard and Chuck Norris. All sorts of God awful noises escape Fat Bastard's body, immediately sending Chuck Norris into a kung-fu frenzy.
Luckily Shatner is able to re-tase Norris…and all is momentarily calm.
"Dear God, what died in his colon!" Thanks for the heads up, Clancy. I haven't taken a breath in about a minute. I'm running out of oxygen.
"This is some fucked up shit, even with Chuck Norris as a judge." No kidding Stan. Thanks for stating the obvious.
"Is that really Fat Bastard? Or just a fat bastard in general? Is he wearing a kilt or a plaid tarp?" Laf, I don't even want to speculate on the tarp thing.
God knows what he is wearing under that thing.
"I don't know, but he looks like a fat bastard." Always straight to the point, Pam.
"Shit, Shatner. You made my ass twitch. I can still feel it puckering."
"Shut it, you fucking bastard. Now sit down and behave. Leave the toddler alone and stay on your side of the table."
"Captain Kirk, you burned my neck with your damn taser."
"I'll make you sit by that bastard. So don't tempt me, little boy."
"Norris, get it together man. Stop slobbering and fix your hat."
"Please excuse the technical difficulties, ladies and gentleman. Now where was I? Oh, yes…now you have met the judges let's meet our teams for our round 1 matches. In our first round 1 match, we have the meat heads of WWE…'We're Meaty!'. Their competitors are the men in black who see no evil…'We Can Still Hear You!'."
My money is one the blind guys. I wonder if they get to use their sight canes.
Are those throwing stars?
"In our second round 1 match, we have the grateful dead from the nursing home up the street…Greener Pastures. Please be aware that are only EMT has suffered severe injuries due to an earlier altercation involving little fuzzy mammals, so in the event of possible death, please make sure your wills are up to date. Their competitors are ever so slight Vulcan wannabe shorties. Yes, they're violent and no they are not on a leash…'The Vulcan-Oompas'."
"Alright teams. Let's get it on."
A/N Thanks everyone for taking the time to read, review, favorite and alert. I really appreciate it.
Until the next time,
TMart
