Me and Charlie in the Jungle: Pt 2 (783 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 0.36 on 19 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Tigre (View user info) at 2004-11-07 00:37:19 EST
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/47903
---
The ride there wasn't bad in the slightest. After we got out of the quiet part of town, all the pretty girls lined the street and waved. Tony had a cigarette pinched between his teeth, his hair slicked(courtesy of the comb he always kept in his asscrack), and a big smile on his face. He was lovin' it. Everyone else just waved, enjoyed the girls, and Joe who tried to jump on the truck. It was Tony who finally stood up and looked down at Joe, who was red in the face, and completely spent. Tony picked the cigarette from his mouth into his hand as he stood,
"Gedda fuck outta here! Go home! If you're too pussy to hop on, get the hell outta my sight."
He saw it. We all saw it. Joe got the look in his eyes. Joe got pissed. He took one breath, and made a giant leap onto the back of the truck, both arms spread out in the gap of the hub. He pulled himself up, but not before everyone heard his pants rip.
Right down his ass.
This isn't the kid that wears tighty whities, or even the underwear with the day of the week on them. This kid wears bright pink old granny panties. This bitch didn't care. He walked right up to tony, gave him a front flinch, and proceeded to towards the back to me. Tony slapped his head as he sat, "Fuggin ayeishole."
-
Not many of us had been out of the town, because everything was to be had there. There was the general store, where old Mr. Burkette sold everything you could think of but paperclips. The old bastard refused to order paperclips. He said it was a sign of laziness, because "You can just hold papers for Chrissake." This came from the man that ordered Fifty fannypacks, 20 wrist cupholders, and 5 firewood dollies a week, and couldn't give them away.
Then where was Porky, the drunken town asshole. Nobody knew his real name, but his trademark was that he always had a pork sandwhich in his hand. His right hand, I swear to God, was for nothing better than yeilding his unholy trademark.
Then there was Benny, the awesome retarded guy. This guy was renoun for the ammount of tea cooler he could drink. He'd sit outside the Grocery store, a gallon of tea cooler in-hand, sipping. Big tony one day made the mistake of daring Benny to a tea chugging contest. The aftermath was horrible. Benny's father owned the Grocery, so he got everything free. Big Tony came out with two gallons of Tea. Benny came out with four. two gallons in each of his massive hands, as he sat down on the wooden bench next to Tony, with the biggest damn smile I've ever seen.
"H-yew wredd-ee bee to-nee?" He asked as he turned to the poised half italian. Tony had a gallon on his knee, as he threw the metal cap to the ground.
"Yeah.." Was all master of wide-assity could muster. He was going down, and he knew it, but he wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Go-wuh!" Squealed the Tea master, as he gave Tony a head-start. Benny took one deep breath, exhaled, and let the entire gallon of tea slide down into his stomach all in one fluid movement. We were stunned, to say the least. He picked up another, and repeated the stunt. Then another. Then a fourth. Tony struggled to finish the last of the first, as he gasped for breath, falling into a heap of fat, tea, and asphyxiation. The man with the giant glasses, long lanky legs, bushy eyebrows, and special shoes beat Tony at his own Game. Just when we thought it was over, Benny reaches over to Tony's second gallon, and Chugs it, in the exact same fasion. We all shook our heads in disbelief.
"You..bastard..uugh" It was the last we heard of Tony that day, before we rolled him under the bench. He passed out from a mixture of mid-summer heat, supersweetend sugar sludge, and Defeat.
-
Then there was the blacksmith. Sure it was the industrial age. Sure we had machines, welders, hole boring machines, and all that jazz in the sixties, but only we had the blacksmith. His job when I we were around wasn't out of need, as much as it was of other people's wants. No longer did he make the wrought iron knives, and scythes, but he made the coat hangers, the doorstops, and the occaisional dinner bell. Some days we'd just watch him. We never knew what he was making, but it was always totally cool to watch the sparks and slag spit in a 340' around the guy, red hot steel in a flood on the floor. Nobody knew the guy's name, only the A.J.M. on his doorway. I had gotten a letter while at base a few years back from my mother. In it, she told us that he had died, sofar known as natural causes. As it turned out, for the past two years prior he had been building a hollow iron cross in his backyard, piece by piece. He hung himself on an iron chain he made arms impaled on spikes welded to the arms, with a note scrawled in his pocket;
"Fuck the corporashins. Fuck the big guy. I'm sick of making yor coat hangars and yor usless shite. If Im worthlis to fiks a knife, Im worthlis to live. Fuck the corporashins."
His shop stands today just as it did the day he died. Nobody has touched it.
I was in the middle of recalling all the people from my past, as I realised the voices of the girls were gone. The hankercheifs of the girls were gone. The town, the people, and the happiness was gone. I was snapped to attention with a stiff
"AtteeennTION!" It was the end of the line. "Get off the truck, form a line, and DO IT NOW!"
The man's neck looked as though it was about to burst. His face was angry. His ears were angry. Hell, his short blonde hair was angry. He was not a force to be reckoned with; except for Joe, that stupid bastard. Joe stood immediatly, gave a half-assed saluted with the wrong hand, and proceeded his attempt to walk off the truck. To all of our amazement, the Officer who we would later refer to as Shufer headbutted Joe in the testicles. HARD. No ordinary headbutt, either. The man got his ankles in fullswing, all 285lbs of him, right into Joe's jewels. He was unscathed. The man screamed into Joes balls, "You will salute with the other hand, you STUPID NIMROD LOSER BASTARD-CHILD. DO YOU HEAR ME!?" Joe looked fullfront, with a,
"YeSSIRR!"
"Good! Get off the truck, NOW! ALL OF YOU" We all did as we were told, all of us planning to have children. We instinctively walked single file to a row of wooden tables, behind them assortments of supplies, including soaps, sleeping bags still in the burlap, and the finest woman I've ever laid eyes on. This woman would later be my wife.
We waited in line, hearing the Drill sergent scream into the faces of other lanky boys, the massive veins in his neck unrelenting. I then laid eyes on her. Her indentity patch read 'Howell'. She barely took notice to me, as she asked, "Name?"
"Uhh.."
"NAME."
"McMichael. Aaron McMichael." She looked through the page, and pressed her finger beside it, jotting down the number.
"Get your bags from bertha. Get your other supplies from Jimmy."
I nodded as I walked over to the massive black woman. I was surprised they allowed a woman, letalone an african american woman into the corps.
"Whassyo name, boy?"
"Aaron."
"My boy's name is Aaron, whatta coincidence. He'ys yo shit." she tossed me a burlap bag full of a bar of ass-scented soap, a razor, and the sleeping bag. I walked then over to whom I assumed was Jimmy. I looked at his long stubbly face and roman nose for only a second before he began his barrage of million-mile-a-minute questions,
"Whatcha need, who sentcha, whatcha gotta get, I can get it for you, c'mon spit it out, ya want some shoelaces, I got some shoe laces, need some shaving cream, I got some shaving cream, OUT WITH IT BOY!"
"Uuuh.." I stammered, "..Yeah! Just..gimme whatcha got."
"Thats the spirit boy. That dipshit over there just wanted three cans of shaving cream." Sure enough, there was joe, wearing a beard..of shaving cream. Jimmy dumped the last of my stuff into my sack with both of his hands, as he motioned me off. I shook my head as I passed Joe, who gave me a thumbs up. Big tony was limping towards me, obviously with sore testicles. I looked at him and grinned,
"This is gunna be fun."
User Reviews
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-11-28 19:19:26 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by hollygolitely (user info) at 2004-11-25 06:28:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Holy horse shoe!
This was SOOOOOOOOOOOOO excellent.
Submitted by Zoidberg (user info) at 2004-11-10 03:20:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
you two need to keep fighting. The superpowers crack was gold
Submitted by Zoidberg (user info) at 2004-11-10 03:19:07 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:52:23 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:51:04 (#)
Ranking: 1
"The ride there wasn't bad in the slightest."
Where can I get me a slightest?
----------
I'm assuming thats all you read.
..and if you want, I have a bottle of it listed on ebay.
Bitch.
HAha Chronicles that was funny
And Tigre, he gave you a 1, don't be such a rude cunt. Here's a -2 spanking
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 10:31:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You're mean methedethodedly. *Lesniff*
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-11-07 04:10:07 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by bravo_foxtrot (user info) at 2004-11-07 03:48:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Marines have Drill Instructors, Army has Drill Sergeants.
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:35:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:24:10 (#)
Ranking: 2
Tigre is a sexy beast
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:24:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Tigre is a sexy beast.
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:11:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:10:25 (#)
Ranking: 0
"I imagine you talk with fetish."
I imagine you talk with a lisp.
----
Touche', College Guy. Touche'.
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:10:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"I imagine you talk with fetish."
I imagine you talk with a lisp.
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:05:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:02:41 (#)
Ranking: 0
"Perhaps you're underestimating the size of my penis."
Come now, I don't have super-powers. How could I do something as fantastic as that?
--------
I imagine you talk with fetish..
His ass is a bit too tender for my liking. I prefer rough pirate assholes, callous from lonely nights at sea.
Arrrg.
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 01:02:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"Perhaps you're underestimating the size of my penis."
Come now, I don't have super-powers. How could I do something as fantastic as that?
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:59:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:56:40 (#)
Ranking: 0
"I'm assuming thats all you read."
Perhaps you're over-estimating me.
-------
Perhaps you're underestimating the size of my penis. Did you ever consider the people that would be hurt in the process?! The massive trail of hate and destruction you'd leave behind?
Get out of my office.
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:56:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
"I'm assuming thats all you read."
Perhaps you're over-estimating me.
Submitted by Tigre (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:52:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:51:04 (#)
Ranking: 1
"The ride there wasn't bad in the slightest."
Where can I get me a slightest?
----------
I'm assuming thats all you read.
..and if you want, I have a bottle of it listed on ebay.
Bitch.
Submitted by AsshOly (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:51:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good shit!
I cant wait for part three, you magnificent bastard.
Submitted by Chronicles_of_College_Guy (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:51:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
"The ride there wasn't bad in the slightest."
Where can I get me a slightest?
Submitted by Libra (user info) at 2004-11-07 00:46:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Hmmm, it had its good points, I'd try to stay away from using the southern dialect so much, it kinda got old in Tom Sawyer.