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Stashtastic

Crafting The Killing Joke

From the first time I saw the Monty Python sketch about the killer joke, where Ernest scribbler pens the worlds funniest joke and keels over dead. I too have dreamt of crafting such an amazing joke with a punch line capable of incapacitating the audience from all sides.

I unfortunately do not think I am capable of crafting a killing joke. For one I do not wish to murder anyone. Even if I were to make someone lose control of their bowels or pee a little in their pants from my joke. I would laugh at them, but feel a tad guilty for telling them such a good joke.

Not to mention the fact that to have such a hilarious joke it would have to be so long it would be like a continuous comedy set, with no comedic pause and some kind of set story line like it all happened at once and well lets be honest that’s just not believable. It would be so scattered about that if you comprehended it fully they would award you some kind of medal for cognition skills alone.

So, then I plan on washing my hands clean of actually composing and delivering the final draft of the killer joke. But I will however offer some insight into what I think the joke should and should not be composed of:

• The joke should include the word toot, poopy, doodie, or crotch. Any of these words will do. The object here is to draw out the low brow humor with a prelaugh. Much like a pre stroke it is the calm before the storm that is to come. If you can get someone who is drinking a nice glass of water to hear the words, toot, poopy, doodie or crotch, heck they might just choke on it and die right there. Since we have not heard these phrases since roughly kindergarten whereby condom-face was a ghastly insult. These words can catch people off guard, and aid in killing them.
• Excessive stereotyping should take place in the joke. In order to cover all bases here, make sure to either tailor the joke to an audience slightly changing, Or simply come up with a racial blanket to cover many people that could be in the audience. Start the joke with excessive makeup rain bowing yourself in every color of the stereotype rainbow. And instead of being all, in my native ____. Be all my people. The folks in the audience wont even know where the heck your from and for all they know your stereotyping someone other than them or maybe even making fun of them right to their face. This could generate confusion but also some serious lulz.
• Poop should be in the joke. For some reason people find it very difficult to not laugh at poop. Poop is funny. Jizzum can be funny. But only if you say it as a cute name like Jizzum. The only problem is people tend to find Jizzum jokes more icky than poop. This is again for the lowbrow group so we will stick to the poop jokes. Just a lot of talk of corn and toots and massive piles of fecal matter evacuating your body. No matter who you are you can relate. Proper or not you may be sticking up your nose to this part of the joke but that pompous asshole of yours has evacuated mounds of sticky goo that you have been afraid to laugh at because its not, Proper. If delivered correctly a poop joke could slay the mightiest of men.
• Marriage shit. Yeah the joke should probably include some kind of marriage shit. This is for the fogies. By fogies I mean people with established families and such not just the old folks. I mean I am not married with kids or anything so I cant really craft a good marriage joke to be fair. But for those who are married or have been in commited relationships for a long time will lose their shit over a good marriage joke. You don’t really even have to say much. Husband is all “dum dum da” wife is all *long and annoyed stare* “….daa”. At this point every man should be letting out a “HOHOHOHOHO” and nudging their wives continuing to “HOHOHOHO” with an embarrassed wife face. If you do carry out that part of the joke, and at least one person does not laugh. Abort telling the rest of the joke. Its not worth it, no one is going to die laughing to this one.
• Perfect segway into my next point. Womanly shit. Yes there should be lady business in the joke as well. Ladies enjoy making men feel awkward. And they do this especially well by mentioning the subject of periods. If its not hockey related or at the end of a sentence a man, upon hearing the word period in a joke, will automatically tune out. A period is unfortunately a gender specific targeted joke. This will also perk up any women who are listening to the joke as they will be expecting some Kathy Griffin joke. Much like the one where she said she was going to go have her period on Seacrest’s star on the walk of fame. What a lady. With the ladies at attention you can come in with a battering punch to sock both sexes back into a final frenzy of laughter again. A word of warning however. Avoid the C-word. This is a touchy area for some women, although awesome to say and sometimes funny sounding. It can come back to haunt you.
• SEX. oh Jesus I’ve said it bring everyone back to attention to the joke with some talk of randy randy sex. Something about the talk of sexual sillyness, is well very funny. I mean you could even combine poop into this. Look up space docking it’s a real eye opener. No everyone can have a giggle or two about a bad sexual experience back in junior high, or the evening before where you fell asleep having scheduled Thursday night sex in a position where you could both still see American idol on tv. Sex should be included in the joke because it’s a provocative subject. It will bring the men back into consciousness and possibly cause the first few people to drop right there.
• Real old fogies. Everyone has old people. We can all laugh at how twistedly confused and crotchety they have all become and vow how we will never turn into them, but sadly it seems impossible for us to avoid. As a tribute to our elders I feel that they too should be included in the joke. They are of course an easy target, the most they can do is write a strongly worded letter, and they can barely turn on the computer to do this so you have roughly 4 months to pack up shop after telling the joke as to avoid the angry letters at your mailing address. Not that it will matter because if this is done correctly everyone who heard the joke will be dead.

Now I am just spitballing here, I know full well this joke would be like the atomic bomb a feat of human technology and innovation but a horrible destructive force. I would recommend some kind of noise cancelling headphones and blinders when the joke has actually been crafted. It should be pretty potent, especially if all the elements I have listed are included.

As an aside to terrorist groups. I am not funny. Disregard this list and please do not capture me to craft the killing joke. Anything I would work on for you would bomb ten times worse than water world. Save some time, kidnap Jeff Foxworthy and watch every American suffer a huge decline in morale. Craft your killing joke when they are weak. Start a Jihad of laughter.

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An Open Letter to The man on His Laptop in Rush Hour Traffic

Hello sir,

As I was riding aboard a greyhound bus to Toronto the other day I happened to see you in your beat up old rusty van. Normally the sight of such an unkempt dare I say, piece of shit vehicle as that being on the road next to me is a tad concerning as the pieces falling off of it in directions unknown, coupled with the fumes I am surely inhaling could result in an early and forthcoming death on my part.

What jostled me from a hazy half sleep was not the sight of your vehicle, but the fact that you were turned 90 degrees away from a view of the road while traveling somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 kph. This is all well and good, you’re an important man I can understand that. Important enough in fact to not only be concentrating on your laptop in a rush hour traffic situation, but have it mounted on your dashboard for quick and convenient use in any laptop emergency.

This handy brace would probably also serve a greater purpose in maiming you when you do one day succumb to that life changing high speed crash whilst also ensuring you get to tweet your last words. “lol in traffic, lol”. No that would simply be an irony too great to come true.

The saddest part of it all is, you, that brace and that busted ass car that you commute to work in every day, will probably outlive all of us. Nearly sideswiping a bus is no bit of a wakeup call, but simply a funny story to be told round the pub later on in the evening.

Some interesting alternatives to using your laptop in traffic, may be firstly curving that pc addiction of yours. I mean most phones can get the internet on them and it’s a hell of a lot easier that putting a giant Christfucking laptop cradle in your car. Or shoot whatever happened to just driving? Just good old fashioned paying attention showing up on time alive and well after a jolly trip down the highway.

I mean what did our grandparents do? They listened to AM radio and they tapped their mother fucking toes is what they did. I mean yeah they were at least 3 good whiskey drinks deep by their morning commute to the office, but they were in the zone all the same. Eyes on the road, Buddy Holly in the speakers and ready to take on the world. Not to mention driving around in a car that could plow through any small house. Not fly apart like some redneck, rusty, degenerate version of a formula one crash.

I think all I am trying to say is wake the hell up. You and your ancient Chrysler soccer mom, death heap from hell almost ended me because your too bloody important to watch the road and pay attention like the rest of the sad and mostly responsible public who were stuck in the same rush hour traffic. Consider this your cease and desist letter before you end up in some hospital or before something more tragic happens like your Farmville goes unattended for a few mere moments.
In summary, you are a dick. Smarten the fuck up.

Signed, your friend

Scott
(toodles!)

P.S.
If in fact what you were working on was the cure to cancer or some sort of ultimate life changing breakthrough discovery, please ignore the following rant. Alternately if you are some kind of Jack Bauer type and you stopped some bomb from going off by keying in a launch key on your laptop while remaining anonymous undercover in that busted ass van.I salute you for saving lives, godbless you Jack Bauer figure, your daughter is so hot. Also please don’t find me and kill me for this.

Quoting The Real Shakespeare

Working For Food

Hair Crime Fashion Victim

Officer! Officer! I would like to report a hair crime! The mullet I have just seen is in
violation of code number 36 of the government regulated appearance code (possession of mullet).

This is a situation I would like to see happen one day. I’m no crazy Nazi I mean hell I like looking how I want to look. I feel like other people should have the right to do the same.

But some people truly must realize how fucking stupidly they present themselves in public settings.

I am talking of course about what I can only refer to as the ultra-mullet.

I mean mullets are alright, they give me something to do while I am searching for rollbacks at
Wal-Mart.

Joe dirt’s wig fused to his skull yeah that still makes me laugh pretty hard.

But when I am taking public transit and your Kentucky waterfall is rubbing across my shoulder. Fuck this is when your fashion statement becomes my inconvenience.

For some reason, I don’t know if this happens to most folks but It certainly does to me, generally in any social situation I run into a worst case scenario. The strangest weirdest son of a bitch within a 10 mile radius. Feels he or she must put their trust in me, acknowledge me and try and make a new friend of me. I don’t know if I am just wildly approachable or what. I think I am a mullet magnet.

Because of this I must say I have seen some glorious mullets in my time. Dog the bounty hunter looks like a gigantic mound of puppy shit in comparison to what I have seen. I have been in the shit. I’ve seen bald sides, all colors of the hair rainbow, Fake mullets, real mullets, mullets that defy physics, and even the extremely rare, albino mullet.

I have to say, after all this experience and even when the mullet was somewhat in style, It is fucking difficult to look anywhere near respectable or decent, with a mullet.

It is getting to the point that we are even somewhat desensitized to Mohawks these days, I mean shit, it used to be fucking outrageous back in the early punk days for someone to come home rocking a Mohawk. But now its all kind of passé you see them more, they have evolved into the very popular and chic faux hawk and even businessmen can rock those.

No the mullet truly is a one way ticket to becoming an undesirable. Which is where I come back to my earlier point. What in the fuck makes people want to grow them? Is it so folks like me step back and kill part of my day saying to myself, medium front, short sides, long whale tail out the back. WHAT THE FUCK what is this degenerate doing? I’m not saying I am any sort of fashion guru, I mean I barely remember the time when the mullet was indeed a popular and desirable item. I just don’t understand the phenomena that is the mullet.

As an attention seeking device I can see definite merit. A mullet requires far less dedication than piercing your face enough times to ring up a shower curtain on it. But the ultra mullet of legend would rule this out, taking years to grow, sculpt and create.

Much like the lord of the rings, one mullet crafted, to rule them all.

I could also see dead areas in the scalp to be a problem as well or a bad hairdresser, I mean remember when your mom would just throw a bowl over your head and you would end up like Jim Carrey in dumb and dumber? I certainly do. What if there is just a cardboard cutout at the hairdresser fitting the profile of the average mullet. I should hope it’s a cheap haircut.

As for the dead areas theory. I blame cancer, that and balding. I mean fuck if I was getting chemo and I could only grow hair in back in front fuck yeah I’m gonna grow that hair long and proud. I am going to rock that mullet. For this reason I can see an acceptable breach in the hair fashion crime laws. But for cancer only. Some people have funny shaped heads, its easier for them to have a little hair in order to misdirect people away from making Coneheads references.
By all means call me a mullet racist. Call me a bigoted mullet hater. I mean I’m not going to follow some poor working class southern Caucasian family home from Wal-Mart one evening and burn a giant pair of scissors into their lawn. I can live peacefully with the mullet and I believe in its rights.

I would just like the diehards to know. Those of you who have the ultra-mullets. The era of your haircut has ended. Your mullet is keeping you from living a more fulfilled life. Let the sides grow in, cut that whale tail off, perhaps even fiddle with some hair gel. Your hair can only gain the wrong kind of attention. Update your look into a new decade for until you do, you have made me and others a hair crime fashion victim.

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Why I shall not fuck with the wu-tang clan.

Today I decided to come to an informed decision on why I myself will just let the Wu Tang Clan be. For those of you familiar with the Wu Tang Clan, you know by reputation they “aint nothing to fuck with.” I personally have respected this rule for quite some time, the Wu Tang Clan had never been overtly mean or disheartening to my way of life, we both sort of plead ignorance to each other.
However for one group to have an outlying warning, giving others a formal ultimatum they “aint nothing to fuck with.” Well leaving them alone just seems like a smart thing to do. Here is a list of reasons why I shall not fuck with the Wu Tang Clan:

#1. They are a clan: I don’t know if you have ever seen brave heart, but those clans have great organization. I mean if the Wu Tang Clan was able to ally themselves up with say the Wallace’s. I am fairly certain any governmental structure in the area would just have to bow to their will. There would be a mass mooning in front of a parliament structure forming a giant Oreo of asses. Chaos would ensue. The fact that they have taken a step back from organizing into a larger front makes me feel a little appreciative and even less likely to challenge their authority.

#2. I bet they could find out where I lived: Wu Tang Clan fans number in the thousands. If the internet has taught me anything, If I were to ever blog or speak in opposition of the Wu Tang Clan, I would be found within hours and my head would be chopped off. I mean the song itself states they are located in areas all around the united states. I mean shit Detroit is a skip and a jump away. I can well imagine there is a Canadian sect of the Wu Tang Clan which could be outsourced to behead little ol me for my wrongdoings. To long on such facts could lead to many sleepless nights.

#3 Method man has an axe to grind: Lets face it, his career as an actor has not been the greatest. I mean he has done far better than I, but he must be looking for reparations in the form of kneecaps at this point. If someone were to get Method Man into a Don Cheadle kind of role he might be a whole lot more personable to others. Unfortunately this would make him much less threatening. I honestly feel as If I am being watched as I am writing this slight bit of criticism but it is true. Any person who has been type cast in and out of so much shit is bound to snap at the slightest hint of insubordination against the organization he stand’s for. Method man must be a very frustrated with a hair trigger and due to the structure of organization and mob mentality his actions could lead to a feeding frenzy of violence against any oppressor.

#4 They have enough riches to conceal almost any crime.-If RZA wanted me dead he could make a couple phone calls leave some cash In his mailbox and I would be in some dumpster by sundown. The amount of wealth the clan has amassed over the years could silence just about any arm of law enforcement. These gentleman are capable of ruining lives if they are crossed.

#5 I know almost nothing about rap music- As you can probably tell from the majority of this article. I am stabbing wildly into a dark void of understanding on the genre of music the Wu Tang Clan is a part of. It is something unexplainable to me. To judge or speak ill of it would be ill conceived as it is not something I could ever truly understand. I mean I don’t want to pass judgment on the Wu Tang Clan only to be labeled a bigot my by peers. In that case I would not only fuck with the Wu Tang Clan but fuck with my own reputation as well. In that case it’s a superfluous gangbang of fucking, where all sides could simply detract from one another and leave well enough alone.

#6 I like being nice- What the heck ever happened to just being nice to people? I mean tea and crackers, the whole celebrity population is being constantly judged on a day to day basis. The Wu tang clan among them are under the constant glow of the media spotlight and with that pressure do not need one more stressor, the general public, fucking with their shit. With all that media attention and TMZ judging them if they even so much as poop in a public washroom, how badly would they crack if someone like me added to their pile of woes by indeed fucking with them. I wish the Wu Tang Clan well in fact. They have enough things on their plate and certainly do not need more.

#7 They are black- Well some of you knew this was probably going to come. However it is not necessarily for the reason you may have thought. Im not trying to be a racist just hear me out. The problem I face here is depending on how I chose to “fuck” with the Wu Tang Clan. I could be up for charges of a hate crime. I mean depending on my defense I could be labeled as one of those crazy southerners who still lives by the old civil war code. I am trying to be as cut and dry as possible, it is a reason on my list simply because of the extenuating circumstances that may come from me fucking with the Wu tang clan. Lets face it if a lone white man begins to pick on a clan of black men you would come to the same conclusions as many. “oh this guy is a racist asshole, hes fucking with the Wu Tang Clan because they are black.” Horrible assumption and yet another reason to avoid fucking with them.




#8 They have tang in their name- For some reason tang is just a funny word to say. It fits with both the astronaut drink which is cool and tangy and poon tang, which is well very, very cool, confusing and definitely not tangy. I admit it is hard for me not to giggle when I say tang. However this is accomplished when I say something that strikes fear into me like the Wu tang clan.

#9 I feel we have similar interests- Def jam vendetta was pretty fucking tits. Some of Wu Tang Clan are playable characters in this. In fact all nine were featured in an old Playstation game several years ago. Yeah playing these games, and watching the pixilated versions of these men kick many a digital ass on my screen further reinforces that I should not fuck with them. Considering they are into just sitting around playing Playstation and having a good time with friends, yeah I cant really be too uppity about something like that. I mean shit we all hate 50 cent and for that alone I lose my desire to oppose the clan.

I have decided that seeing as I have about 9 reasons that is enough proof for me to never fuck with The Wu tang clan. Treat this examination as both an educational process and a warning. When you are considering fucking with the Wu tang clan read through my findings and heed my warnings, The Wu Tang Clan “aint nothing to fuck with”.

Cashing In On The Time Travelers Wife

Now before I begin, some of you may see the following as mean, manipulative and exploitative. To those people I need only say. If I ever get this to work, whoever it works on fully deserves it. Secondly in the words of Canada’s rock sensation Sloan, it feels good to do it.

When watching the time travelers wife I had a horrible idea.

Or a brilliant one.

As a brief aside no I have not read the book, reading is dull, unless your reading this, in which case its AWESOME. The following therefore will be taken contextually from the movie and not the book so don’t go ahead and write a bunch of hate mail about my inaccuracies, I am just going for the rough concept here. Secondly I’ll find you and shit on your porch.

Anyway back to my idea.

What if I could find a woman so incredibly gullible, attractive and wrapped up in the notion that she too could fall in love with a wayward time traveler. Think of the benefits this sort of arrangement could have, no more dinner with boring old Fred and Linda “Oh god I’m disappearing! I’m time traveling again unintentionally!” No more expensive holidays. No more chores. Hardly any responsibilities, and your partner doesn’t think you’re a dick, they think your truly a time traveler unable to control your affliction and missing out on all of those precious life moments. Sucker.

To wipe my hands clean of my future dinner date with boring old Fred and Linda, and going through a hellish holiday with the in laws I figure the following steps will need to take place to succeed in becoming “The Time Traveler”

Getting started

Meet an attractive and gullible sort of lady that has heard of the time travelers wife. Intoxication could also help with the illusion so I would imagine the best place for this would be at some dancey bar. It will be loud and crowded so I can pull my very first time travel. If I really wanted to drive the point home I may bring some flares or pyrotechnics to add to the effect as well as stashing a grey haired wig, makeup kit and old man clothes outside the bar. With an approach as creepy as “Hey have you seen the time travelers wife? I’m like that guy.” I can only assume many tries will be needed to get past the initial greeting. But once the “In” has been established. I can make up some bullshit about being dragged back to generic events she may be able to relate to. This works especially well if I clean up and shave have a familiar face and blend well in the room. I may be able to pull off that I have seen her in the past and future. I will spend the night being a complete gentleman until the moment where I must time travel away to prove my wild statement.

Time traveling for the first time

I’ll try and make a lot of noise, possibly in the bathroom while slipping out of a window. Or simply crabwalk through the crowd remaining undetected whilst throwing my road flares or setting off my pyrotechnics. When I get outside this is where the magic happens. I’ll step across the street and don my old man disguise. When she comes out I greet her shocked with: “ I told you this was important! Were soul mates!” I plan to not skimp on the costume as it is imperative to the believability of this charade, alternately I suppose I could find a bar in a really dimly lit area.

Choose your own adventure

With any luck I have established some kind of connection to my “mark”. Now I can choose weather or not to use time traveling to have a one night stand and simply time travel out of the room in the morning. (Note to self it is important to save some pyrotechnics and flares for the morning after but not too much as to burn the house down.) I also have to make sure to say things like “Oh no I’m time traveling I could get lost in time!” so that I am absolved from being an asshole. Its my condition not my personality.

Relationship city

If I take the other route and I am in it for the long haul this is where it is time to cash in on time traveling. Oh how romantic it will be, me a man who travels through time seeing things men have only dreamed of. But not matter I will be a liars liar. To keep this up however I think I will need some help, Possibly a makeup guy for my old man flashbacks and a pyrotechnics guy for my amazing time traveling. The relationship would continue as per usual however I would hold my veto card close to my chest. Dinner with Fred and Linda comes around. I’m popping a road flare, saying “IM TIME TRAVELLING” and crab walking the fuck out of there to play lazer tag. Bliss. As long as I come back in my professional old man costume for a bit who knows how long I could be gone for. Oh how happy we would be. Me missing out on all of the events in life that suck. And my lady living her dream of being the time travelers wife.


Unrealistic, yes, Unfathomable, yes. If it ever worked I think I would simply have to see how far it went. For those of you who think it is awful to even think of such a thing out of a romantic story like the time travelers wife I would have to agree that I am tainting the story. But If I can get out of a one night stand awkwardness, skip dinner with the in-laws or boring old Fred and Linda or any other mediocre stupid life event to go and play lazer tag, well shit I will try just about anything.

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Friends Forever

Singing In the rain: The remake

OK, Mr. Producer, here is my pitch to you. Since Hollywood is making so much money off of remakes lately, I have a great money-making idea!
Lets remake that oh so sweet and fun loving 1952 film, Singing in the Rain.

Intrigued? I thought you would be, sir.

First of all, let me just say, although the original quaint little film was a showstopper back then, and probably implored quite a budget for the time, I can remake this film for a very low, low fee. Certainly not the 2.5 million allotted to the original films creation.

How low you ask? Good question.

Well lets just say you can pick between going to KFC for lunch or signing off on this picture. I have all my own equipment and to save money were just going to film on a rainy day. Suck on that MGM, bet you didn’t think of that one back in 1952.

As for locations, it will be mostly guerilla filming in friend’s basements and street corners without express permission of anyone involved. As for effects, I can handle most of the visual and sound myself in my home studio- pictured here.

Yes sir, that is a closet lined with egg cartons and a floor model staples Compaq computer.

All that I ask in return, is your studio to endorse and distribute the picture as you normally would, all for the low price of buying me and those involved a hearty gravy slathered chicken lunch.

As for talent, I can provide this myself.

I have a very manicured friend who can easily pose as Debbie Reynolds. I swear, I have never seen him sprout facial hair longer than your average lady.
I myself can play the Gene Kelly role, any singing I can probably duplicate to a tee in post. God bless auto tune.

As for updating it for a new generation, well, you may want to sit down for this.
The main theme song will no longer be singing in the rain. It will be Insane in the Brain as performed by Cypress Hill. I realize this track itself is dated but I think it could offer a new insight into gene Kelly’s character.

The story would be changed roughly as follows: Gene Kelly would be a pimp, disenchanted with his main hoe and known throughout the city as the king shit pimp he must wander the streets looking for his new “best bitch”. On his journey, he stumbles upon Debbie Reynolds’ character and falls passionately in love.

Some compositions I have for the first half of the film: “Bored o dat snatch”, “Fit like a Whaa and I’m ready to fuck” and “I had a wet dream” just to name a few.

Please sir let me finish, this is going to blow your mind once I get to the ending.

In between the musical numbers, as I feel the kids today identify well with MTV Live, I would like to see an update after each musical scene, whereby an incredibly unrehearsed and unkempt person will awkwardly take us through what we have just seen, of course adding in nonsensical slang and jovial comments whilst constantly blurting out where people can follow him on twitter. I feel that adding this touch will shoot this film far into the present. (Don’t forget, you can follow us on Twitter- @bitterunion)

Getting back to the meat of the story, on their first evening working the streets together, they get caught in a torrential rain shower. As pimps do not think ahead too far as to bring an umbrella his fine pimp clothes begin to get wet. Because of this downpour and the lack of business due to the rain, Gene Kelly begins to go insane in the brain.
The dancing and routines will be roughly the same. Although instead of twirling umbrellas I would suggest we twirl giant pimp canes. This is again a future adaptation of the film. I also see a vision of big smiles and a happy-go-lucky feel to the whole dance number.

The film will round out as pimp, Gene Kelly, discovers he only has feelings for his new best bitch, Debbie Reynolds. He presents her with a diamond necklace to which she cries and says, “thank you, daddy.” Followed by an 11 minute sex scene with full penetration.

Yes, I am serious. You heard me correctly. Full penetration.

Showing full penetration may be a little risqué, but lets be honest, dancing around in the rain like a fucking screwball back in the 1950’s was pretty risqué and fucked up as well. I would say full penetration in a feature length film is right on par with a sopping wet dance number in the rain. I mean that is behaviour reserved for the mentally insane. Showing insane people dancing in the rain back then is fairly equivalent to showing full penetration for 11 minutes. I mean given the proper venue you can see that on any computer with an Internet connection. Kids today are simply desensitized to such things, if done correctly it will be seen as a tender and romantic moment.

Before you outright refuse, please let me pitch the ending.

The final twist of fate will update the story even further. With the divorce rates much higher than when the movie first came out, Instead of the musical scene where the two actors join each other in singing “Good morning”, which will only make the current generation think of sexual aid medications, the Gene Kelly character will turn over in the suns morning rays and begin to belt out a song called “Regrets”. He will awaken from his drunken haze and begin to realize he was only in it for a sweet lay, and is now locked into a committed relationship. The scene will end with him sneakily unclasping the necklace and can canning out the door as he breaks into the last finale lines which are simply “Regrets! Regrets! Reeeeeeeeegrettttttssssssss!”
Quick shot to MTV guy texting.
Fade out.
Credits roll.

So, what do you think, sir?

Ok, I’ll leave. Ill just wait by your car down there until your free. The silver Mercedes. Yeah I saw you get out of it this morning from the bushes over there. I’ve got an even better idea when your free. Here’s a little teaser.

Kazaam 2.

Think about it!

I’ll have the pitch ready when you come out.

Vaginos

Tony Federelli here to introduce to you a new breakfast cereal that is going to revolutionize your day with a burst of energy, excitement and taste explosion.

When we asked the American public if they liked cereal 86% of them said “Fuck yeah!”

But what are today’s modern breakfast cereals missing I ask you?

Well I would say they are missing a comforting and recognizable shape as well as a new taste that will shock your senses like old sparky.

I’m talking bout Vaginos people.

Because so many Americans like cereal we needed something different, something edgy and groundbreaking. But with a familiarity that brings the average consumer back to mamas kitchen.

These tasty slightly oval shaped o’s are modeled after the female vagina to bring you a taste sensation unlike any breakfast cereal before.

The taste of vagina is infused in every O.

Our o’s start out very simply, the dumpster behind the chereos plant where the rejected oval shaped o’s are discarded. The o’s are then loaded into a truck and sent to Nicaragua where our main plant is.

The o’s are each individually sculpted using the reject cheerio is a base. Adding a bran dough , skilled child slaves craft the perfect vagina shape each time. Modeled after the diagram in the latest addition of greys anatomy.

Passing through a large oven fueled mostly by garbage and dead villagers the o’s are heated to a hard state for the first time in production.

The o’s then move on to our flavoring facility where they are soaked in large wooden hot tubs occupied by hundreds of Nicaraguan slave women fed a steady diet of fruits and grains, the Vaginos stew for a week to soak every last drop of the vagina flavor.

We then dry the Vaginos in the hot sun and rub them with coconut oils to give you that sun bathed taste of the beach baby tanned chyach. Without the sandy aftertaste!

Sugars and glitter are then added to give the vaginos a pop!

How much sugar you ask?

Metric Fucktons.

Enough so that your children may slip into a diabetic coma, making this cereal the most friendly for Saturday morning cartoon watching since reese's pieces cereal.

I get a lot of questions about the glitter in vaginos. People say, is glitter harmful to me in cereal Tony? Will my rectum be cut by the shards of glitter Tony?

Although the glitter is mostly indigestible I can promise that our army of quality control technicians rigorously check each individual glitter package to insure that no sharp edges are present.

As a secondary precautionary measure our bran dough base is infused with a mild laxitive allowing any sharp glitter missed in the quality process to evacuate the bowels in an expedient manner. Creating a brown glitter rainbow slightly resembling a Mariah carey video with every movement.

After the production process is completed and the o’s have had time to dry in the sun they continue on a conveyor to our automatic packaging facility where they are packaged and shipped off to you.

After all of this work, you the American public can enjoy a bowl of premium breakfast cereal every morning.

But what does this cereal cost Tony?

I would pay up to $50 for a box of cereal of this quality in my supermarket.

But because of our Nicaraguan labor exports we are able to offer you this product for the low low price of $3.99.

$3.99! Impossible! I feel like I’m stealing!

Yes ladies and gentleman you can march down to your local store and enjoy a box of vaginos for the same price as a regular box of cereal.

Lets hear what people have to say about this great product.

“Vagtastic!”

“It tastes like Friday night!”

“I cant help but have morning wood, for vaginos!”

There you have it folks regular Americans all agree vaginos are fantastic.
But this raises a tough issue as well.

I recently received some mail from Terrence D Winklesteans from Maryland who wrote:

Dear Tony

I am a homosexual, and I am thoroughly disgusted by real vaginas, and I am nervous to sample your cereal, could you describe for me the taste so that I may one day overcome my previous reservations to vaginas and sample your cereal?

Well Terrence I would like to respond to you with this confession. I too am a homosexual.

That’s right folks this bounding portrait of masculinity is in fact a rump ranger. I myself have never tasted a vagina, or even seen one up close.

You may ask, well isn’t it strange for you to be marketing this cereal?

To which I respond, No, it is a beautiful and tasty product. The sugar makes each o taste like a dream, and although I am repulsed by the real thing and compare them to the sandworms in dune, I love the oh so delicious vaginos that come in every box. After tasting vaginos and being assured by many they are what actual vagina tastes like they have mad me even consider changing teams. Oh vaginos with their glitter shining, their fermented secretions tantalizing my taste buds with that sun kissed chyachie taste of vagina in every bite.

So ladies and gentleman if you like me want to wake up to a big bowl of sugary vaginos go down to your local grocer and grab a box today!


“Vaginos! Today, your eating out!”

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