FFWD Weekly
Copyright © 1998 All Rights Reserved.
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| MR. SMUTTY Ever since I've been rubbing Viagra into my scalp, my imagination has been a rock-hard pillar of pulsating, throbbing creativity - which is good 'cuz (other than you, Sweet Reader) I don't gots no friends. So, whaddaya wanna do today? Well, we could play "Paranoid Shut-In," but that's more a rainy-day game. "Alien Probe" is always fun-in-the-sun, but I'm still a li'l sore from last time. And Dad took all his empties to the depot this morning, so that means we can't play "Spin The Bottle" or "Bar Brawl." How 'bout "Poke That Scab" or "My Many Smells"? Maybe we could build a shanty-town in the backyard. (Gee, it's too bad we've already cut Ginger outta all yer Spice Girl posters.) Wanna play "Gilligan's Island" instead? You could be the Professor and build a bamboo car while I slip behind a hut and get really fuggin' stoned. No good? Oh, I know: let's play "Good News/Bad News." I'll kick things off. OK, in maybe Florida or someplace, some guy was driving around and he was really hungry. The good news: he was near a Burger King, so he pulled into the drive-thru, ordered his lunch (burger, fries, soda pop), pulled up to the second window, received a paper bag, then drove off. The bad news: there wasn't any food in the bag. The good news: the bag was fulla money (somewhere in the $1000s). (Always one step ahead of the criminal mind, the BK grease jockeys were in the crafty habit of placing the day's bank deposits in a take-out bag, thusly creating the deceptive-but-ludicrous appearance that each day at 4:15 p.m. sharp a bag of burgers was delivered to the bank across the street.) The bad news: the guy was effin' starving and ya can't very well eat money, so he swung the car around and sped back to Burger King. Alrighty, now it's your turn. So you say something like, the good news is the hungry Samaritan then received the correct bag (burger, fries, drink) and, as a reward for returning the cash, got to "upsize" his fries - on the house! Then I'd say something along the lines of: but the bad news is the guy was driving along eating his burger and not paying attention to the road, so he drifted across three lanes of traffic, jumped the meridian and smashed head-on into a busload of hard-done-by-yet-cheerful orphans en route to DisneyWorld's new wild animal park. The good news: the orphans were pretty excited about the trip and probably would've had a blast if they hadn't all been killed on impact. Whoops, maybe that's more like bad news. OK, good news: the guy climbed outta the wreckage unscathed. The bad news: some gangstas drove by and pumped him full of lead. The good news: that stuff about the car crash, orphans, etc. didn't happen, so relax ya crybaby. That was fun. Whaddaya wanna play now? How 'bout a rousing game of "Cancer Treatment" using those syringes we found in the river? I'd be up for a quick round of "Soccer Riot," except we used up all the kerosene during this morning's Tony Danza effigy burning. ("Don't like poplar fluff in the air, hey Mister Hollywood? Well, who's the freakin' boss now, huh Taxi-Boy?!?") Gee, we haven't played "Mommy's Special Friend" in a while. (I think I've still got the "uncle" outfit somewhere.) Oh, I know the perfect game! Let's play "Jerry Springer"! You be the trash-talking hermaphrodite and I'll be the unfaithful bisexual long-haul trucker boyfriend (& I've come on the show to tell ya I've been ploughing America like Johnny Appleseed). Bust that chair upside my head like ya mean it, buddy ol' pal. |
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