Thursday, September 22, 2005

Dougie and the Mixed Nuts Part 2 - Dougie Style

If you're arriving a little late, you should really reading at Dougie and the Mixed Nuts Part 1 - The Adventure Begins.

So where were we? Ah yes, Dougie was on all fours, on the top bunk of a bunk bed, poised to insert three inches of the wide end of a vaseline-lubed pool cue into his rectum.

The football players broke out cameras to commemorate the moment, shooting frame after frame of film. I can only imagine how proud Dougie's parents would have been of their boy at that moment. All we really needed to complete the moment was the theme from 2001 in the background.

Unfortunately, it was at this point that the whole enterprise hit a snag. Dougie couldn't get the leverage to insert the pool cue. Apparently a lubricated pool cue is difficult to manipulate from behind with one hand. I pray I never share this bit of knowledge and have to explain how I know.

As Dougie patiently explained, it was a matter of angle and leverage and weight. Somebody else would need to... um... drive.

This new development was met with a lengthy silence, followed by a lot of throat clearing and looking around. Rob and paused in our efforts to jimmy the window open. What would happen next?

It was at this point that the football players lost their nerve and backed out of the deal. Nobody was willing to be known as the guy who put Dougie behind the eight ball.

They took their money back and said that they wouldn't pay. Dougie then refused to jam a pool cue up his butt. And everyone was a little embarrassed.

Like many such tales of alcohol-fueled freakiness, the next morning was a touch awkward. Nobody really much wanted to talk about it. No one except, strangely enough, Dougie.

Dougie took great pains to point out that it wasn't his fault that the probing fell through. That he would have jammed that pool cue up is butt, no doubt about it. And that he remained prepared to do so for a price.

I think his logic was that he would make it clear that he didn't wuss out. That he was more of a man than the football players. Unfortunately, the result was that everyone made a mental note to never, ever, ever, be in the same room as Dougie, ever again.

Epilogue: Dougie now teaches elementary school. Really. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

LM

4 Comments:

Blogger Sara said...

Is Dougie a teacher on the west coast? No reason... Just wondering.

7:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's like I've always said: watching a man penetrate himself with a pool cue is nothing but good, clean fun that only hurts the health insurance company paying for your therapy bills seven or eight years up the road, and maybe the divorce lawyer you need to hire because no sane woman will spend longer than six months being awakened by your pitiful night screaming.

However: helping a man penetrate himself with a pool cue is Assault With a Dangerous Weapon at best, Aggravated Conspiracy to Commit Felony Mayhem with Intent to Permanently Disfigure (charged as a Hate Crime) at worst, with a time spread of between seven and seven thousand years in federal pound-me-in-the-shower prison, where they never haggle over money up front. So the right choices were made by all.

Thanks for finishing the story, and sorry I was so harsh in the comments a couple weeks back. In my defense, I was drinking. In my defense for any rude comments I post later, I'm drinking now. Pray for Mojo.

Okay,
Rob

7:33 PM  
Blogger Lance Manion said...

Sara, he was east coast when last I checked, but my info is a little dated.

Rob, thanks for the legal counsel. I appreciated your comment weeks ago. Sometimes you need a swift pool cue to the ass to get moving.

9:51 AM  
Blogger V said...

I should have heeded your warnings. Now neural networks have been fried in the name of this.

3:55 PM  

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