"ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE THE ALMIGHTY BUNGHOLE!"
The party slowly died down and came to a halt at the spectacle of sixteen-year-old Beavis standing triumphantly on the rooftop. With the collar of his shirt hiked over his blonde pompadoured coif, and his forearms arched in a right angle, it was clear to all below him that the lad had once again gone on a sugar binge: thus bringing about his faux-Spanish alter-ego, Cornholio.
As Beavis continued to rant and rave from his perch, the mood of the revelers turned from joy to rage. He and his equally unevolved cohort Butthead were clearly not given an invitation owing to the fact that all they did was giggle and grunt stupidly while leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
"Get off the roof!"
"Nobody invited you!"
As some of the irater partygoers hurled cans of soda in Beavis' general direction, Butthead stood like the proverbial eye of this hurricane at the foot of the spread. With a mouthful of Nachos, he shouted emotionlessly at his friend before making a move on a disgusted female within his radius.
"Do a flip, dumbass. Huh-huh. Hey Baby, uh care to score?"
"BUNGHOOLLLLIIIIOOO!" Beavis began to howl. "RELEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE MY ALMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTY BUNGHOOOOOOOLIOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"Shut up, weirdo!"
Below Bevis, the crowd of revelers only continued to get angrier and angrier with his presence, moving on from hurling soda containers to just about anything that could be thrown high enough to try and hit him. Yet their rage was only gasoline to the fire of his act; particularly when a can of soda clocked him straight on the forehead and knocked him on his ass.
"YAAAAAGH!"
Yet rather than fall off the roof, he managed to regain his footing, open the can, drink its contents, and continue his performance.
"Alright that's it!" Said the host as he signals to three other guests before departing from the scene.
"AH! RUN AS YOU MAY! BUT YOU HAVE ONLY MADE MY BUNGHOLE STRONGER!"
Whatever perceived victory Beavis relished in was short lived; exiting the shed with a ten-foot ladder in tow, the host and his friends proceed to ascend the roof and meet their unwanted attendee face to face.
"ARE YOU THREATENING ME?!"
"[You] bet your ass we are."
"FOOLS! I WILL RESIST! I WILL RESIST!" Beavis shouts as he attempts to dodge his captors. "YOU WILL NOT RESTRAIN THE ALMIGHTY BUNGHOLE! GNA-HAHA-urk.
The last feeling Beavis registers is a swift kick to the testicles before one of the host's burlier compadres grab him by his ankles and sling him over their shoulder like Santa's sack of toys. Everything starts to spin, fading in and out before slowly going black. Were it not for the faint groaning noises and a puddle of drool forming on his mouth, one would easily assume that Beavis had died.
"Ugh, dude he's drooling on my shirt." Beavis' assailant whines as they descend from the roof.
"Alright, here's the plan. Once we grab a wheelbarrow from the garage, we'll dump him behind the Maxi Mart." The host says to his squad.
"Think. Again…" came an ominous whisper.