One boring Tuesday morning, Dennis Miller woke up as usual, on the floor next to an empty bed. He stood up wobbly-legged, his back aching and his shoulders near dislocated. But he was used to it by now and he had accepted the fact that his wife would never allow him to sleep in the same bed as her.
He waddled into the bathroom and stared into the mirror, wiping the crust out of his eyes and scratching his ass. "Good morning, fucker." He mumbled to his reflection. He pulled a razor out of the cabinet and applied a thick mass of shaving cream onto his stubbled face. He began to shave when suddenly he noticed something so shocking it caused him to gasp and cut himself....A RECEITING HAIRLINE!!! "FUCK!!" he spewed, whipping the razor to the floor. He squinted closer into the mirror to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. "Fuck..." he repeated over and over as he fiddled to try and cover his bald spot. "Why NOW, God!? Why when I'm almost 50!? Why not 20 years ago, eh FUCKER!!?" he hollered, pounding his fist against the mirror. "He just wanted to FUCK around with me is all, the mother-fucker!" He scolded God. He stuck a dab of tissue paper on his cut and stormed out of the bathroom.
He began pacing back and forth, mumbling so low that the only distinct words that came from his mouth were "fuck", "fucker", and "mother-fucker". He stopped and stared at the ground, rubbing his fore-head in deep thought. "What the fuck am I gonna do? I can't get hair plugs, everybody notices fuckin hair plugs, man, fuck..." he rambled on. He stood silent for a moment when an idea suddenly dawned on him. "Of COURSE!" He said gleefully, followed by his familiar high-pitched laugh. "Jon Stewart, Craig Kilborne, Jay Leno, Cher....these men all have thick, healthy, full heads of hair! All I need to do is rip the fuckin scalp off THEIR heads, and sew it on MINE! It's fuckin brilliant!" He squealed, rubbing his sweaty hands together. An evil grin grew on his...evil face and he slowly walked into the kitchen snickering. His silhouette formed a spooky shadow that laughed with triumphant...evil and held up a long, sharp...butter knife, which looked like a butcher knife when reflected as a shadow. Don't worry, I'm sure he'll come up with a better tool...
Meanwhile, in L.A., Craig Kilborne was recording a taping of his talk show, and Jim Carrey was his guest. "So...," Craig began, combing his hair in a mirror. "about your new movie...Ace Ventura is it? How do you prepare yourself-" Craig was interrupted by Jim Carrey.
"Uh, actually, that film was made about 6 years ago. The newest film is called Man On The Moon, and even that came out last year." Jim corrected Craig. There was a pause of silence. Craig put away his mirror and stared at Jim with a puzzled look. "Then why the hell are you here?" he asked ignorantly. Jim looked offended but answered, "I don't know that's a good-" but was interrupted.
"I'll tell you why you're here," Craig began, pulling out a blue piece of paper. "you're here to play Game-O-Matic!" Jim laughed.
"Oh. Alllrighty then. Lucky me-"
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, you're here to play 5 Questions!"
"Even better, my frie-"
"First question, geography; Where were you the first time you had sex?"
"Um, that would be in the back of a dumpster, Craig." Jim grinned widely. Craig shot his hand in Jim's face and shouted, "That is in-correct!" Jim gasped.
"What!? What are you TALKING about!? Only I know where I lost my virginity for God's sake-"
"OH! Times up! 0 out of 5! Sorry, Jim, better luck next time!" Craig said, interrupting once again. Jim just stood there with a confused expressive and his mouth open. "That's it for our show tonight," Craig spoke. "tomorrow we'll have Al Franken on for the 3rd time this week! Goodnight everybody, I'm proud of ya!" He waved to the audience. As soon as they got off air, Jim stood up ready to confront Craig, but Craig just wooshed past by him as if he didn't exist and walked toward his dressing room. He did, however, take time to moon Jim before his exit. He walked into his dressing room and loosened his tie with a sigh. A shot glass of Tequila stood beside a large bottle of it. Craig chose the bottle over the glass and began to guzzle as much as he could take. As he gulped, he heard a faint whisper in the room that sounded like it was repeating the word "chug". He turned around and the whispers stopped. He shrugged. "Oh man...gotta stop popping exstacy pills between commercial breaks." he mumbled, belching a bit of vomit up his throat. He smiled at a picture of basketball player Vince Carter on his mirror which he superimposed to make it look like Vince was wearing a thong speedo. "You rock my world, Carter." He snickered, gulping another shot of Tequila and swallowing it down with a few aspirin pills. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff..." he grunted, his head rushing. He nearly passed out but his body fought the drugs since he was so used to them. Suddenly he heard another whisper, but louder this time. "I'm like a head trip to listen to..." the voice snapped. Craig turned around again, his vision split in 4. "Donnie Osmond? Is that you?" he murmured idiotically.
"I'm only giving you things you joke about with your friends inside your living room.." the voice continued. Craig pulled open the closet door it was coming from. He saw a tiny little tape recorder. It spoke again, and said, "I seeeee you.......FUCKER!!" And at that moment, Craig was pounced on from behind!! It was Dennis Miller! He yanked a telephone cord around Craig's neck and began to strangle him. "Here you go, FAG!! I always wanted to do this to you, every time you played that fuckin game "Yambo" and stuck your foul, unshaven face in somebody else's like some kind of MOTHER-FUCKER!!!" Dennis hollered over Craig's gags, pulling tighter on the cord the more angry he got. Craig was not much of a fight at all, since his system was already close to break down anyway from the consistent drug usage. Still, Dennis was impatient, so he gave up on the choking, pulled out a switchblade and sliced Craig's throat. Craig slid to the floor, his eyes rolling to the top and a stream of blood pouring out his open mouth. A large, proud but psychotic grin formed on Dennis's face. He regained his sense of calm and let go of the cord, which had dug its way deep into the flesh of Craig's throat. An exhausted but relieved chuckle came from Miller's slobbery mouth as stroked the blade of his knife. "Come to me, baby..." he said with lust as he began to cut away at the dead body's scalp, removing the hair. Suddenly a putrid gust of strong, thick alcohol and burned marijuana leaves blew in his nose and he dropped the knife. "FUCK!" he screamed, plugging his nose. The constant day-to-day, 24-hour usage of drugs Craig had performed, had permanently left his hair roots wreaking of the stuff. "Just GREAT! Just fucking GREAT!!" Dennis yelled, kicking the carcass in the ribs. "There's no way in Satan's HELL that's going on my head!" he growled. Suddenly someone knocked on the door. It was Jim Carrey. He had come to bitch at Craig for treating him like trash on the show. "Hey, Cregorss! I wanna have a word with you, mister!" he demanded out in the hallway. Dennis gasped. He quickly glanced around the room and spotted a window. He smashed it open with a whisky bottle and climbed out of it just before Jim opened the door. "Okay, buddy-" Jim began, then stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Craig in all his bloody glory. Silence. "Alrighty," Jim gulped. "I was going to punish you but I see you've punished yourself so...we're even. Okay partner?" Jim grinned. More silence. "I'll just...call 911 then..." he said, talking to himself to calm his nerves. He cringed as he stepped over a pool of blood. He bit his lip and quickly yanked the phone away from the cadaver but as soon as the cord ripped off the body's neck its head fell off, rolling beside Jim's feet. "Ahhhhhh!!!" Jim shrieked in a high-pitched girlish tone, dropping the phone. "I'll use the payphone! Toodles!" he said, his legs shaking like crazy, then scooted out of there so fast his sneaks left a skid mark.
It was night time by the time Dennis finished walking home. His wife and kids were fast asleep. He trotted towards his room, every bone in his body aching from the long walk and the 30-foot fall out the window. He flopped onto the rough floor beside the bed his wife comfortably slept on and closed his eyes. Tonight he would rest well, and in the morning...a lovely Jay Leno toupe.
9:30 in the morning and Jay Leno sat in his plush, comfy chair reading a newspaper and sipping some morning coffee. He chuckled at a particular news article that read; "Man Mistakes Parking Sign For Pee Sign." Leno shook his head. "I'll use that one on the show, how bout it, Kev?" Jay spoke to an imaginary Kevin Eubanks. "Funny article don't you think, Kev?" he asked. He kept giggling at the article until he felt a tickle in his bladder. "Oo! Speaking of pee! Too much coffee!" he mumbled, getting up and scurrying toward the bathroom in his fluffy pink robe. Not bothering to lift the toilet seat, he began to tinkle. He snickered as he did so and tried to share the apparently funny situation with imaginary Kevin Eubanks. "How bout that, eh Kev?" he smirked after leaving a few droplets of urine on the seat. He reached for the handle to flush but knocked over a shampoo bottle by accident. "Oo! Didja see THAT Kev!? Now THATS a good one for the show!" Jay laughed, pointing at the dripping bottle that formed a puddle beneath Jay's feet. "We'll call it... Conditioner Caught Dripping!" Jay said in a snappy voice. He burst into hysterical laughter and hopped up and down. Suddenly his foot slipped on the soapy shampoo and he fell backward, a squeaky fart coming from his ass just before the back of his head came down hard on the edge of the marble bathtub, cracking his skull and killing him. He lay dead in a puddle of soapy goo mixed with his own blood, a smile left on his face. Just at that moment, Dennis Miller snuck his way through the window and entered Jay's house. With slow, silent strides, he tip-toed around the house. He paused and listened for any noise. The mansion was dead with silence. "Sure hope the mother-fucker's home. It took me like HOURS to get that fuckin window open without breaking the fucking thing..." Dennis complained miserably. After searching around the house for an hour (and stopping to slip valuable items inside his coat and eat) he finally made his way toward the bathroom where Jay Leno lay dead, so that he could take a shit. He turned the knob slowly and opened the door. "FUCK!" he screamed, then smiled when he realized fate had killed off Leno and done the work for him. "Wow. What a lovely parting gift..." he said as he stroked Leno's hair. He lowered his chin so that it looked like he had no neck (which he does very often) and smirked. He pulled out a blade to remove the hair when the happy-go-lucky tune of the doorbell rang. "Oh, GREAT. He was expecting COMPANY." Dennis growled, growing impatient. He quickly shoved Jay in the shower and closed the curtains. He ran down the tall stairs toward the door. Too paranoid to answer it right away, he peered through the peep hole, seeing the horrid sight of an open mouth staring him in the face. "Who the fuck...?" he said with irritation in his voice. He unlocked the door and opened it just a crack, peering outside. On the porch stood Adam Sandler with a beer helmet on, and beside him was Tom Green, who had his mouth over the peep hole and was moaning as usual. "What do you fuckers want? I'm busy!" Dennis grouched. He tried to close the door but Adam stuck his foot in the crack. "Hey, ASS-lick! This ain't your HOUSE now let me in or I'll break your fuckin neck in half!" Adam hollered, spitting in Miller's face. Adam had the worst temper in the history of Hollywood. "Don't swear." Tom Green's voice mumbled from behind the door.
"You can't come in until you tell me why you're here, wise-guy." Dennis snorted, trying to control his anger. Adam replied, "The fat man's havin a party to celebrate that star thingy he got on the Walk Of Fame, I dunno...he said there's free beer here so I invited MYSELF!" Miller grew impatient.
"Well, you're not invited so get the fuck out!" he screamed, releasing his temper.
"Neither are YOU, I checked, you FUCK! And besides, we're real party guys, we can turn this bore-hole into a shit-hole! It'll be a nuthouse! I'll order some hookers, Tom can pour shit all over himself and everything, COME ON!!" Adam shouted, his face turning red. Tom turned his head at the mention of his name. "Huh? What? What's going on?" he asked.
"I said you can pour shit on yourself, dick-hole! Keep up!" Adam scolded Tom. Tom scratched his head, afraid to look Adam in the eyes. "Uh..yeah, sure. Fine, no problem, I can do that." he answered. Adam shook his head. "Ass..." he mumbled.
"Okay...," Dennis began, realizing he couldn't win this argument. "...just don't fuck things up and be gone in an hour...TOPS." he finished sternly.
"Alright, alright, I'll try not to get your panties out of order, dick-head." Adam grouched, shoving the door open and welcoming himself inside. Tom was a little more hesitant. "Um, if you really don't want me here, I can leave.." Tom said quietly.
"Get in or I'll kick your scrawny ass, turd-wad!" Adam said, shoving Tom in the door. Adam ran into the kitchen and straight to the fridge for some beers. He yanked out a 24-pack and walked into the living room. He plopped on the couch where Tom sat watching satellite TV and opened up a bottle with the side of the coffee table, scratching it. Dennis Miller narrowed his eyebrows at the 2. "Jay Leno is just...out getting party supplies right now.." he mumbled. Adam and Tom couldn't care less. "I'm warning you two... no bull-shit.." Dennis said, then left up the stairs to clean up his "mess".
"Yeah, yeah, save it, old man!" Adam shouted up at him with a snort and a snicker. Dennis turned around and gave the finger, but Adam wasn't looking luckily. "Put some good shit on, man." Adam ordered Tom. Tom was staring at the confusing remote control like he was concentrating on a crossword puzzle. "Yo, give me that you dumbass Canadian!" Adam said, trying to grab the remote from Tom. Tom pulled it out of the way in time. "I'm tryin to find the discovery channel..." Tom said, clicking all the buttons on the converter. Adam laughed. "You got satellite TV and you wanna watch the fuckin Discovery Channel!? Noway! Put fuckin HBO on or some shit!" he said, grabbing for the remote again. "But there'ss...animalss...humping..eachother..." Tom said. "They're MATING...animals MATING with eachother. Humping animals...humpy humpy humpy!" Tom giggled, grabbing a pillow and humping it while making a creepy smiling face. "Ahman you SUCK! I'm not watchin no animals hump, GIMME THAT!" Adam snarled, pouncing on Tom. Tom shrieked and wacked the remote control over Adam's head. "OWWW!" Adam screamed, falling backward. "You fuckin ball-lickin monkey-fuckin sheep-raper!!" he hollered, holding the bump on his head. Tom flicked a popcorn on Adam and Adam whipped a beer bottle at his head. Tom ducked then grabbed a bowl of candy and dumped it over Adam's head. At what seemed like a perfect time for Adam to go ballistic and attack....he got up and screamed with joy, "FOOD FIGHT!!!!" He hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of food. He started whipping raw eggs at Tom, laughing and having a total wild-on! Tom grabbed a bowl of left-over spaghetti from the pile of food Adam brought out, lifted it in the air and....poured it all over HIMSELF! He screamed while he did this as if he were being stabbed, and shouted "STELLAAAAAA!!!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. Dennis Miller came down screeching tons and tons of profanity, ending his ranting by sternly pointing his finger toward the door and ordering the two goons to "GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!!!!!" Adam, who was nice and clean, continued laughing, finding Miller's anger quite humorous. Tom on the other hand, who was dripping with a variety of different foods, was scared shitless of the angry man. "Can-can-can I just, like....quickly clean up in the shower for, like...one...second..?" Tom croaked quietly. Dennis snorted and flipped him the bird, too distracted by Adam to pay attention to the idiot. Adam was in a hallway knocking things down and laughing. Dennis was trying to stop him so Tom took advantage and hurried off to find a washroom. Dennis shook his head at Adam while he broke all of Leno's valuables. "Is there a POINT?" he asked. "You're just gonna have to PAY for all of this, you stupid FUCKER." Dennis said with pity, giving up on being angry.
"Hey, I've got plenty of money! It's worth it so save the sympathy for yourself when you lose more of that hair of yours, ass-humper!" Adam responded smugly. Dennis gasped in horror. It had just hit him that Tom had gone up the stairs and he had left the dead body exposed! Suddenly he heard Tom Green hollering from upstairs. He gasped. "The body!" He yelped, zooming up the stairs. A curious Adam Sandler followed behind. Dennis found Tom whimping in horror in the corner of the bathroom, Jay Leno's dead carcass laying in a bathtub flooded with blood right next to him. "Ho-ly shit! That's fuckin' awesome!!" Adam said, amazed. "You sick asshole..." Tom mumbled in a queasy voice, then puked. "Ah-HA-ha! Stupid pussy!" Adam mocked. Dennis cleared his throat and tried to play it cool. "Who in the world would do such a thing?" he pretended to say in horror. "Winnie the Pooh, that's who." a voice spoke from behind. Everyone turned and saw Jim Carrey standing in the doorway. "Well if it isn't our good friend, Jim," Dennis said in a phony voice. "Jim, you know who did this?"
"Ah-signs point to YES!" Jim grinned.
"Oh well...you gonna fill us in?"
"I'd love to! But unfortunately you already KNOW who it is...KILLER!!" Jim yelled, pointing a finger at Dennis. "You sick asshole!" Tom yelled, then puked again.
"Oh, you're one little BITCH aren't you!? You have NO proof it was me, OKAY!?" Dennis yelled back at Jim in denial. "Oh, I've got all the evidence in the world...DANNY." Jim said smoothly, pulling out a mini tape recorder. "I found THIS in Mr. Kilborne's dressing room the day he supposedly commit suicide." Jim spoke, then played the tape. "Chug, chug, chug, chug......I'm like a head trip to listen to......" Dennis Miller's voice spoke on the tape. "I seeeee yooouuuu......" the tape continued. Dennis interrupted. "Oh, come on! How do you know the voice on the tape is me!? It sounds nothing like me!" he said in panic. The tape continued... ".....FUCKER!!" the voice on the tape roared, proving for sure that it was Dennis Miller's voice (who can mistake the way that guy uses the word "fucker"?). "That's how." Jim answered Dennis's question and grinned with a toothy smile. "You sick ASSHOLE!!" Tom Green yelled out once again, but Adam kicked him in the stomach before he could barf agai--err--wait, that just made him vomit even more. There was silence as everyone stared accusingly at Dennis. "Okay, fine," he began to confess. "I DID kill Craig Kilborne but I did NOT kill Jay Leno!" he finished with honesty. Jim just grinned even more and nodded his head.
"I know," he began, then took a deep breath and began speaking in one long sentence. "At approximately 9:00 am according to the time on Leno's watch which was broken and frozen at the time he fell backward he began to urinate and after he completed his urination he reached for the toilet flusher and as we can see because of the finger prints on the shampoo bottle that he missed and knocked it over, causing the shampoo to leak out onto the floor THAT'S what he slipped on, THAT'S what killed him, and THAT would explain the shampoo stain on his left foot and the blood stain on the side of the bathtub! Oh YEAH! Can you feel THAT, BUDDY!? Can you FEEL it, Mr. MILLER!? HUH!? DAMN I'm good!!" Jim hollered at the top of his lungs, gasping for air, and thrusting his crotch back and forth. Dennis took advantage and kicked him square in the balls. Jim fell to the floor in pain. Dennis pulled out a knife, grabbed Jim and stuck the knife to his throat. "Nobody move!! I'll kill the FUCKER I swear!!" Dennis wailed threateningly.
"Hey, calm down, PSYCHO!" Adam Sandler shouted.
"FUCK YOU!! All I wanted was a lousy head of fucking hair!! Is that too much to ask!!? Am I asking for fucking world domination or something!!? For FUCK'S SAKE, I JUST WANTED TO HAVE HAIR!!!!!" Dennis bellowed, tears forming in his eyes. "Oh, I see, you haven't got yer pubes yet, eh, fag-face!? Little GIRL!" Adam mocked Dennis. Dennis spit at Adam and missed.
"YOU MOTHER-FUCKER SHUTUP!!!" Dennis continued to scream.
"Hahah look at you ya pussy! Cryin like a DOOSCHE-bag!" Sandler continued to mock.
"I'm WARNING you!! Shut the fuck up or I'll kill this asshole!!"
"I don't give a FUCK! Guy sucks anyways, he's not fuckin funny anymore! I'm the only good comedian around these days, face it!"
"SHUTUP!! I'm funny you FUCKER!! I'm an old man and I'm saying FUCK!! That's FUCKIN...FUNNY!!!!"
"Hahah you don't think George Carlin swears his ass off!? And he's fuckin OLDER than you! Dude, you're fuckin 40 something, you're lucky you still HAVE hair! So calm the fuck DOWN!"
"Noooo!! I just...I wanna look young FOREVER!!"
"You do, you look good for your age, man, I'm serious."
"Really!? You really think so!??"
"YEAH man! I'd be nervous to leave my girl around you! You are one...hip dude!"
"Yeah! I AM a hip dude! I can get any bitch I want! I dont need no fuckin hair! I rule!!"
"YEAH!! YOU KICK ASS!!"
"YEAH!! Thanks, Adam, you've opened up a new light for me..." Dennis was just about to let go of his choke hold on Jim Carrey when suddenly, POW!! A bullet was shot right through his head! Miller dropped to the floor, his tongue hanging out and his receding hairline showing more than ever. Jim screeched like a little girl and ran out of there like the wind. Adam laughed. "Hahahaha stupid old pops! Hahah look at the guy's fuckin hair! Fuckin ridiculous! You nut-licker!!" He yelled in dead Miller's face, kicking it. He turned around to see who had shot the raging psychopath. Tom Green sat there in the corner shaking like a little chihuahua, holding a smoking pistol. "I'm...I'm a sick asshole!!" He whined, then vomited.
"No way man! You rock! That a was a good fuckin shot!! Where'd you learn how to aim like that buddy!? And where'd you get that gun from!?" Adam said enthusiastically. Tom forced a smile.
"I uhhh...found it in your coat pocket..." Tom replied. Adam's smile suddenly faded and his eyebrows narrowed. "YOU FAUCKIN HORSE-HUMPING CUNT!! HOW COULD YOU TAKE MY FUCKING THINGS YOU ASS-LICKER!!!??" Adam bellowed in rage, and before Tom could defend himself, Adam grabbed the gun out of his hand and shot him dead. Adam continued shooting bullet after bullet into Tom's carcass until his anger faded. He stopped shooting, kicked the body in the nuts then put his gun away. He grinned and peered into the bathroom mirror, studying his hairline. "Eh, what the hell..." he shrugged, then grabbed a scalpel out of Miller's pocket and began to cut away at Tom's scalp....
THE END