This is another event that took place before Dave and Eddie were 21. Once again, this challenge leads to trouble.
Screeeeeech! Dave Tree’s truck came skidding to a stop in Eddie John’s driveway. Dave laughed as he stepped out of his truck and saw the evidence of many prior skids. He opened the door to Eddie’s house and stepped in, only to be met with a beach ball to the face. Surprised, Dave staggered backwards. Eddie lay on the couch laughing hysterically.
“What the hell? What if it was someone else?” Dave asked, holding his nose.
“You are the only visitor I have that parks with your e-brake every single time. Who else would it have been?”
“Well I hope you enjoyed that because it’s the only excitement you’re going to have all night. The town is dead.”
Dave and Eddie were usually able to find house parties on a nightly basis, but lately their entertainment was starting to dry up. Several weeks prior, a large party had spilled into the street and a several overzealous partiers had dragged a couch and a few pallets into the road to light a bonfire. Hundreds of people ended up in the street throwing bottles and starting fights. It escalated to the point that riot police had to be deployed. Ever since, the police department had been cracking down heavily on the house party scene.
Dave sat down and the two started making plans for the night.
“Do you still have any of those bottle rockets?” Eddie asked.
“No, I tied them all together in a bundle and tried to make one big bottle rocket.”
“Pure genius,” Eddie said condescendingly, but Dave was caught up in the memory and the sarcasm went over his head.
“I know right? It seemed like a good idea, but I couldn’t get all the wicks lit together. A couple went off early and the whole thing just came apart. Rockets were flying and exploding everywhere,” Dave’s arms flapped wildly in gesture as he spoke. “I’m lucky to even have my vision still.”
“What is our beer inventory like?”
“We have two King Cobra’s left, they’re in my truck. I drank all the Budweisers though.”
“What? By yourself? We had at least 15 or 16!”
“How do you think I came up with the bottle rocket idea?”
Eddie shook his head in frustration.
“We aren’t keeping beer or fireworks at your house anymore, Dave,” said Eddie in annoyance.
They cracked open their King Cobras and tossed the beach ball back and forth for a while.
“Do you want to see if there is anything going on at ZGR?” Dave asked as he head-butted the beach ball over to Eddie.
ZGR was a fraternity at the local university and had a reputation for nonstop partying.
“I guess it’s either that or sit around and watch reruns of The A-Team,” Eddie replied.
“Ok, we have to stop and pick up Jared first, he wanted to come out tonight.”
They hopped in Dave’s truck and drove over to Jared’s house. As they arrived Dave pulled his customary e-brake parking move. The tires screamed loudly as the truck slid to a stop.
“Why do you always do that?” Eddie asked, trying not to laugh.
“It’s fun, and it’s kind of like ringing the doorbell with my truck,” Dave replied smiling.
They walked to the front door and Eddie opened it. WHAM! A half inflated volleyball smacked him in the face. His hands went up to his face and he instantly fell to the floor. Jared and Dave doubled over with laughter.
“Sorry Eddie, I heard the tires screech and I thought it would be Dave coming through the door,” Jared coughed through fits of mirth. Eddie moaned and stood up slowly.
“We are going to head over to the ZGR house and see if anything is going on over there, you want to come?” Dave asked.
“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun, but first let’s smoke this,” Jared pulled a tightly rolled joint from his pocket and held it up for Dave and Eddie to see. Its scent permeated the room. “I rarely smoke, but my friend gave it to me and I want to get rid of it before my dad finds it. He‘s on a business trip, but he‘ll be back tomorrow.”
They consumed some more beers and smoked the joint before heading over to ZGR.
On the way there, they began feeling the marijuana. None of them were regular smokers, and it was having a dramatic effect.
“I’m not safe to drive you, guys, we have to stop,” Dave laughed, though he wasn’t sure why. “Let’s stop at Wal-Mart and walk around for a little bit.”
They pulled into Wal-Mart and parked. They walked in and began wandering aimlessly up and down the aisles.
“You could live in here, man!” Dave said quietly.
Suddenly Jared streaked past them on a tiny pink tricycle. Dave and Eddie looked at one another for a moment before sprinting over to the bicycle section. They each grabbed miniature tricycles and began peddling furiously around Wal-Mart.
“Haha, mine has a bell!” Eddie hollered as he sounded it relentlessly.
At first they stuck to the toy section, but it wasn’t long before they ventured off into the rest of the store, weaving past customers and ducking around displays. As Jared rounded a corner, Dave rammed him and sent him into a shampoo display. Jared let out a yelp and shampoo bottles went everywhere as the display fell on top of them. They lay on the floor, paralyzed with laughter.
“Uh oh,” Jared giggled as a disgusted looking employee approached them.
“Get out NOW, or I am calling the police,” he barked.
Just then Eddie slowly pedaled past them staring.
“I don’t know them,” he said calmly and pedaled away ringing his bell.
Twenty minutes later they were back on the road en route to ZGR. They arrived and looked out of the truck windows. They were definitely partying. Music was blasting and red cups littered the premises. They walked up to the house only to be stopped by Mike Wayland, the frat’s unofficial bouncer. He was gigantic and his penchant for violence had earned him the nickname, Animal.
“I have to see your IDs,” he informed them.
“What? To get into a fucking frat house?” Eddie asked incredulously.
“Listen, the cops are clamping down on everyone, so if you aren’t 21 and you don’t live here, fuck off,” he growled and gave Eddie a shove to show he was serious.
They stood staring at each other, before slowly turning and walking to the sidewalk, more determined than ever to somehow get into the house.
“Let’s hop the fence in the back yard and go in through the back door,” suggested Jared.
It made sense, and they made their way down the sidewalk to the back yard. Making sure nobody was watching, they boosted themselves over the fence and tried the back door. It was locked. They were about to call it a night when Eddie noticed a ladder laying by the side of the house. He looked up and spotted an open window. Without saying a word he seized the ladder and began propping it up directly below the open window. Dave chuckled and shook his head slowly. Jared looked over at Dave.
“Is this for real? He’s high if he thinks this is going to work,” Jared mumbled.
“Thanks to you, I AM high. We all are,” Eddie replied. “Wait at the back door and I’ll be down to let you in.”
Dave just looked at Jared and shrugged his shoulders as Eddie began his ascent. He reached the top and peered inside. Dirty clothes were strewn all over the place and several empty containers of Skoal sat on a desk. Other than a poster of a Camaro, the walls were bare. There was an attractive blonde sitting on the edge of the bed drinking straight from a Smirnoff bottle. She looked upset. Eddie eyed her for a moment and guessed she was about 20. As Eddie was about to climb back down, she spotted him. She immediately stood and marched over to the window.
“What the fuck are you doing up here?” she asked, both angry and alarmed.
“Um, I was just going to ask you if you knew what time it was,” he replied meekly.
“Were you spying on me you pervert?” She wielded the bottle of vodka menacingly.
“No! I promise I just wanted to steal shit!”
She slammed her vodka on a desk, grabbed the ladder, and started to push it backward
“NO WAIT!” Eddie grabbed the windowsill and hung on for dear life. “Ok, ok, listen, they wouldn’t let me in because I’m under 21 so I was just trying to sneak in, that’s all I promise!”
The girl relaxed and took a step backward.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just had a really rough night. You can come in. I’m Tammy,” she said as she helped Eddie through the window.
“I’m Eddie, and I’m sorry if I scared you,” Eddie replied, sighing in relief. “But what’s wrong? Why are you up here drinking vodka by yourself?”
“My boyfriend is a fucking dick,” Tammy answered. “I found out he’s been cheating on me.”
Eddie’s pupils dilated and his nostrils flared as he eyed Tammy’s long black boots. Dave and Jared were going to have to wait, Eddie could sense that a session of revenge sex might be a few moments away..
“Wow, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said softly as he picked up the bottle of Smirnoff.
They sat down on the bed and Eddie did his best to console her as they took turns shooting vodka. One thing quickly led to another and Tammy was soon wearing nothing but her panties and boots. Eddie was about to pull off his boxers when a photograph of a smiling couple sitting on the nightstand caught his eye. The couple looked very, very familiar. He paused for a minute and looked around. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he realized he was in Animal’s room, about to have sex with Animal’s girlfriend. As he stared at Tammy’s scorching figure, contemplating if it was worth having every single bone in his body broken for, he heard footsteps approaching outside the room. There was a knock at the door.
“Tammy, baby, it’s Mike. Look, I know you are mad.”
The door began to open slowly and Eddie thought his eyes were going to bulge out of their sockets. In a flash he grabbed his jeans, threw them out the window and ran to the ladder. The door was now completely open.
“Listen baby, I just want to tal…” Animal’s voice dropped off as he entered the room. He looked at a nearly naked Eddie, halfway out the window by now, then over at his topless girlfriend.
“Tammy you fucking BITCH!”
“Fuck you, asshole!” She screamed back at him. “This is your fault, you cheated on me!”
Animal flew into a rage and grabbed a lamp. He ran over to the open window and threw it at the descending Eddie, narrowly missing his head. Eddie jumped the rest of the way down to find that Dave and Jared were nowhere in sight. He had no interest in sticking around to find them. He snatched his jeans, hopped the fence and fled. Animal screamed at him from the window above as he sprinted away.
“If I ever catch you here again I’m going to rip off your fucking arms and beat you to death with them you FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!”
Eddie ran until his feet began to bleed. He took a rest to catch his breath and slip on his jeans.
Several hours later, Eddie was sitting on his couch icing his mangled feet when he heard a familiar screeching of tires outside. Dave and Jared stumbled in drunk as Eddie sent a beach ball whizzing at them. Dave ducked and the ball hit Jared square in the face. “I didn’t even have time to close my eyes!” Jared moaned as he dropped to his knees.
“Dude, where the fuck did you go? We’ve been trying to call your cell all night!” Dave bellowed. “You just vanished after you climbed in that window!”
Eddie related the events of his night to them as they laughed uproariously.
“Dude, now we know why Animal was picking fights with everyone,” chuckled Jared after his laughter had subsided.
Eddie raised his eyebrows enquiringly and they filled him in on how their night had gone. After Eddie had failed to show up and let them in, they decided to take matters into their own hands. They snuck in after a partier had come out to urinate in the back yard. After gaining entrance, Dave and Jared searched everywhere from Eddie, but to no avail.
“We couldn’t even reach you on your cell,” said Jared. “We just hung out drinking looking for you. Then the police came busting in.”
Animal, still furious, had started a fight with somebody on the sidewalk in front of the house. As a crowd gathered, the police happened to drive by. They broke the up the fight and the party.
“It was epic,” said Dave excitedly. “They hauled Animal off kicking and screaming. He’s staying the tank tonight for sure. What do you want to do tomorrow night?”
Eddie laughed, flipped them the bird, and laid down to fall asleep.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
A Cover Charge and Payback
Thursday night is Lady’s Night at Studio Lucky. There is always live music, the kitchen stays open late, and best of all, ladies pay half price for drinks all night. By 8:00 the place has more drunken cougars on the prowl than a Canadian wildlife preserve. Dave Tree and Eddie John never miss it. They love it. Dave views the night as an endless parade of attractive, experienced, yet slightly desperate women that are eager to please. Eddie enjoys seeing how long he can passively insult a horny cougar before she grows angry and moves on to another young man at the bar. Today was Thursday but as night approached, it appeared as though they would miss their first Lady’s Night in several months.
“I can’t believe we got banned from Studio Lucky,” Dave lamented as he channel surfed aimlessly. “I never should have gone along with your stupid plan.”
“It was a good idea, we should have just tried it at another bar,” Eddie replied.
Several nights before, the two were running low on cash. Eddie had convinced Dave to go along with a rather clever plan of raising drinking money. They stood outside the bar and posed as employees. To make them seem legitimate, Dave checked for legal identification. Eddie then charged a $5 entrance fee. They had managed to raise nearly $150 before Martin Laney, the head bartender, realized what was going on. He already hated Dave and Eddie and used the incident to ban them from Studio Lucky for life.
“I heard Last Call Jimmy’s started having a Lady’s Night,” Eddie remarked.
“Last Call Jimmy’s? You mean, The Bucket of Blood and Vomit?” Dave asked with disdain.
“They haven’t had a shooting in over a year and they replaced the carpet.”
“Last time I was there some guy tried to share a bathroom stall with me.”
“Whatever. I’m going. You can stay here and beat your meat all night or you can come with me.”
Dave knew it was time to give in.
“Fine, I‘m in. I hope a transsexual takes you home tonight ,” he muttered.
About twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the bar. A filthy and disheveled looking middle-aged man lay passed out in the parking lot with his head propped against a parking block. A brown paper bag masked a bottle of liquor in one hand and a half eaten Big Mac sat on the pavement next to him. A mustard-covered chunk of burger hanging from his mouth indicated he had passed out in mid-chew
Dave raised his eyebrows and shot Eddie his best, “I told you so,” look.
“What? I told you, they improved this place Dave! Look, they have valet now,” Eddie laughed and pointed at the snoring bum.
Dave shook his head and followed Eddie into the bar. He couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle. Bright orange shag carpet covered the wall behind the bar and several people sat in round vinyl-cushion booths. Through dim light several people could be seen staggering around on the dance floor to disco music. One them was even female.
“We should have worn polyester leisure suits,” Eddie joked.
As they took a seat at the bar, Dave counted how many women were in the bar. He came up with 14.
“I thought this was supposed to be Lady’s Night,” he said as the bartender approached.
“It is! This is almost double the women we have on a normal night,” he replied. “I heard Studio lucky is charging a cover now, so that should help our business.”
Dave slowly turned his head toward Eddie and shot him a fierce glance.
“Ok, ok, you are right,” Eddie laughed. “This is no Studio Lucky but I don’t know any place that can’t be fun with the right amount of alcohol.”
The waiting bartender overheard him and chuckled.
“Everything is fun with the right amount of alcohol. What’ll you have?”
“We’ll take six shots of Jack. Two each for us, and two for you,” Eddie pointed at the bartender. “Then we’ll follow that up with Irish Car Bombs and Sierra Nevadas. We‘re going to make this place fun! ”
The bartender happily went to work. He appreciated the gesture and was grateful for the excuse to toss a few drinks back. Most of the bar’s customers didn’t even bother to leave him a tip, let alone buy him a drink. He lined six shot glasses up on the bar and filled them until they were overflowing.
“If we’re taking shots together, I want to know who to be mad at in the morning when my head is pounding. What’s your name?” Dave asked the bartender
“Matt. And you?”
“Dave.”
“Eddie.”
“Well thanks for the drinks, fuckers. Cheers!” Matt said merrily and the three quickly downed their shots.
As the night progressed, Dave, Eddie and Matt continued drinking heavily.
Matt was delighted at finally having patrons whose energy wasn’t fueled by methamphetamines, and Dave and Eddie were excited to find a bartender that would drink with them. It wasn’t long before all three were slurring their speech, and Matt was spilling liquor all over the bar with every pour.
“Matt, the only reason we came here tonight was because we got banned from Studio Lucky,” Dave confessed as he threw back another shot of Jack. “But I’m glad we did, I’m actually having a good time.”
Matt laughed. “Why did you get banned?”
“You tell him Eddie, it was your idea.”
Eddie took another shot and told the story of how Martin had banned them for charging a cover outside the bar. Beer spewed from Matt’s mouth several times throughout the story as he tried to hold back his laughter.
“So that was you guys huh? I’ll drink to that,” Matt said as he gleefully lined up three more shots.
“It’s a good story, but we’re still banned from there,” Dave reminded them.
“I hear you, Martin Laney is a prick. I know, I used to work at Studio Lucky a long time ago. He got me fired for drinking on the job,” Matt explained “But he was the worst. He leaves drunk every single night!”
“Every night, huh? How drunk?” asked Eddie.
“Not so drunk that he drives crazy, but at least 4 or 5 beers deep,” Matt answered. A light bulb slowly flickered and buzzed to life above Eddie’s head.
“Dave, do you remember when you got your DUI?” Eddie asked thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I wasn’t swerving or anything, I got pulled over because my license plate lamp was burned out,” Dave replied in disgust.
Eddie nodded his head, smiling, and the same light bulb exploded brilliantly above the heads of Dave and Matt
“You want to?” asked Eddie.
Dave pondered the thought as he took a drink.
“Yeah, I do,” Dave grinned evilly as he answered.
Matt excitedly slammed his palms on the bar.
“Fuck yes! He drives a red Ford Explorer. It has a Linkin Park sticker on the rear side window,” Matt informed them. “I’ll call you guys a cab. Hell, I’ll pay for it!”
Matt made the call and they all shared another shot while they waited. When the cab arrived, Dave and Eddie, barely able to stand, slithered off their bar stools and staggered out.
“He parks in the alley behind the bar!” Matt called to them as they left.
On the way to Studio Lucky the cab driver could tell they were both extremely drunk and made several attempts to drive them home.
“I don’t think they are going to let you guys in,” the concerned driver said.
“Wha tha fuck have you heard about us?” Eddie drunkenly demanded.
“What? Nothing. I just meant you two are to drunk to keep drinking.”
“Well I’m not as drunk as I say you am!” retorted Dave and crossed his arms, pleased with himself for coming up with such a timely and clever comeback.
The driver knew it was a lost cause and dropped them off in front of Studio Lucky. Dave and Eddie gazed through the windows. It was packed.
“Look at all those cougars,” Dave hiccupped, nearly in tears.
“I know buddy, but we’re going to get even,” Eddie consoled him. “Look, he’s drinking right now.”
Dave looked over at Martin. He was furiously pouring drinks and taking money, pausing occasionally to take a sip from a tall glass behind the bar. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Fuck you, Martin. Fuck you,” Dave muttered.
They crept into the dark alley where Matt said Martin’s car would be parked, looking around to make sure nobody had seen them. There it was, a red Explorer complete with Linkin Park sticker and all. They circled the vehicle and searched for the license plate lamp. Try as they might, they were just to drunk and couldn’t find it.
“Fuck it,” Dave said and kicked a taillight in.
Eddie laughed and yelled, “This is for Matt!” and kicked in the other taillight. They laughed and ran off.
A few days later Dave and Eddie sat relaxing and eating popsicles at Eddie’s house after a round of golf. They had forgotten all about Martin and his Explorer.
Just then, John’s sister, Karen, walked through the door.
“Hey, did you two ass-clowns hear what happened to that bartender from Studio Lucky?”
Dave and Eddie sat straight up in their seats as the events of the night flashed back into their minds.
“Here, it’s in the paper,” Karen said and tossed a newspaper to Eddie.
Martin, just like every night, had had a few to many at work and had attempted to drive home. The dim light in the alley had prevented him from noticing his broken taillights. When he saw red and blue lights flashing behind him, he didn’t know they were planning on writing him a simple fix-it ticket. He panicked and tried to get away. He only made it a few corners before losing control and slamming into a parked car. He leapt from the vehicle and attempted to flee on foot but was quickly tackled by an officer. When the police searched his vehicle, they realized why he had fled. Inside the Explorer the police found 14 grams of cocaine and an unregistered handgun. Martin would be receiving more than just a DUI. He was going to jail.
Dave and Eddie sat staring at each other in stunned silence.
“Eddie, do you have plans for this Thursday night?”
“No, why?”
“Because we’re not banned from Studio Lucky anymore! We are going to Lady‘s Night!”
“I can’t believe we got banned from Studio Lucky,” Dave lamented as he channel surfed aimlessly. “I never should have gone along with your stupid plan.”
“It was a good idea, we should have just tried it at another bar,” Eddie replied.
Several nights before, the two were running low on cash. Eddie had convinced Dave to go along with a rather clever plan of raising drinking money. They stood outside the bar and posed as employees. To make them seem legitimate, Dave checked for legal identification. Eddie then charged a $5 entrance fee. They had managed to raise nearly $150 before Martin Laney, the head bartender, realized what was going on. He already hated Dave and Eddie and used the incident to ban them from Studio Lucky for life.
“I heard Last Call Jimmy’s started having a Lady’s Night,” Eddie remarked.
“Last Call Jimmy’s? You mean, The Bucket of Blood and Vomit?” Dave asked with disdain.
“They haven’t had a shooting in over a year and they replaced the carpet.”
“Last time I was there some guy tried to share a bathroom stall with me.”
“Whatever. I’m going. You can stay here and beat your meat all night or you can come with me.”
Dave knew it was time to give in.
“Fine, I‘m in. I hope a transsexual takes you home tonight ,” he muttered.
About twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the bar. A filthy and disheveled looking middle-aged man lay passed out in the parking lot with his head propped against a parking block. A brown paper bag masked a bottle of liquor in one hand and a half eaten Big Mac sat on the pavement next to him. A mustard-covered chunk of burger hanging from his mouth indicated he had passed out in mid-chew
Dave raised his eyebrows and shot Eddie his best, “I told you so,” look.
“What? I told you, they improved this place Dave! Look, they have valet now,” Eddie laughed and pointed at the snoring bum.
Dave shook his head and followed Eddie into the bar. He couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle. Bright orange shag carpet covered the wall behind the bar and several people sat in round vinyl-cushion booths. Through dim light several people could be seen staggering around on the dance floor to disco music. One them was even female.
“We should have worn polyester leisure suits,” Eddie joked.
As they took a seat at the bar, Dave counted how many women were in the bar. He came up with 14.
“I thought this was supposed to be Lady’s Night,” he said as the bartender approached.
“It is! This is almost double the women we have on a normal night,” he replied. “I heard Studio lucky is charging a cover now, so that should help our business.”
Dave slowly turned his head toward Eddie and shot him a fierce glance.
“Ok, ok, you are right,” Eddie laughed. “This is no Studio Lucky but I don’t know any place that can’t be fun with the right amount of alcohol.”
The waiting bartender overheard him and chuckled.
“Everything is fun with the right amount of alcohol. What’ll you have?”
“We’ll take six shots of Jack. Two each for us, and two for you,” Eddie pointed at the bartender. “Then we’ll follow that up with Irish Car Bombs and Sierra Nevadas. We‘re going to make this place fun! ”
The bartender happily went to work. He appreciated the gesture and was grateful for the excuse to toss a few drinks back. Most of the bar’s customers didn’t even bother to leave him a tip, let alone buy him a drink. He lined six shot glasses up on the bar and filled them until they were overflowing.
“If we’re taking shots together, I want to know who to be mad at in the morning when my head is pounding. What’s your name?” Dave asked the bartender
“Matt. And you?”
“Dave.”
“Eddie.”
“Well thanks for the drinks, fuckers. Cheers!” Matt said merrily and the three quickly downed their shots.
As the night progressed, Dave, Eddie and Matt continued drinking heavily.
Matt was delighted at finally having patrons whose energy wasn’t fueled by methamphetamines, and Dave and Eddie were excited to find a bartender that would drink with them. It wasn’t long before all three were slurring their speech, and Matt was spilling liquor all over the bar with every pour.
“Matt, the only reason we came here tonight was because we got banned from Studio Lucky,” Dave confessed as he threw back another shot of Jack. “But I’m glad we did, I’m actually having a good time.”
Matt laughed. “Why did you get banned?”
“You tell him Eddie, it was your idea.”
Eddie took another shot and told the story of how Martin had banned them for charging a cover outside the bar. Beer spewed from Matt’s mouth several times throughout the story as he tried to hold back his laughter.
“So that was you guys huh? I’ll drink to that,” Matt said as he gleefully lined up three more shots.
“It’s a good story, but we’re still banned from there,” Dave reminded them.
“I hear you, Martin Laney is a prick. I know, I used to work at Studio Lucky a long time ago. He got me fired for drinking on the job,” Matt explained “But he was the worst. He leaves drunk every single night!”
“Every night, huh? How drunk?” asked Eddie.
“Not so drunk that he drives crazy, but at least 4 or 5 beers deep,” Matt answered. A light bulb slowly flickered and buzzed to life above Eddie’s head.
“Dave, do you remember when you got your DUI?” Eddie asked thoughtfully.
“Yeah, I wasn’t swerving or anything, I got pulled over because my license plate lamp was burned out,” Dave replied in disgust.
Eddie nodded his head, smiling, and the same light bulb exploded brilliantly above the heads of Dave and Matt
“You want to?” asked Eddie.
Dave pondered the thought as he took a drink.
“Yeah, I do,” Dave grinned evilly as he answered.
Matt excitedly slammed his palms on the bar.
“Fuck yes! He drives a red Ford Explorer. It has a Linkin Park sticker on the rear side window,” Matt informed them. “I’ll call you guys a cab. Hell, I’ll pay for it!”
Matt made the call and they all shared another shot while they waited. When the cab arrived, Dave and Eddie, barely able to stand, slithered off their bar stools and staggered out.
“He parks in the alley behind the bar!” Matt called to them as they left.
On the way to Studio Lucky the cab driver could tell they were both extremely drunk and made several attempts to drive them home.
“I don’t think they are going to let you guys in,” the concerned driver said.
“Wha tha fuck have you heard about us?” Eddie drunkenly demanded.
“What? Nothing. I just meant you two are to drunk to keep drinking.”
“Well I’m not as drunk as I say you am!” retorted Dave and crossed his arms, pleased with himself for coming up with such a timely and clever comeback.
The driver knew it was a lost cause and dropped them off in front of Studio Lucky. Dave and Eddie gazed through the windows. It was packed.
“Look at all those cougars,” Dave hiccupped, nearly in tears.
“I know buddy, but we’re going to get even,” Eddie consoled him. “Look, he’s drinking right now.”
Dave looked over at Martin. He was furiously pouring drinks and taking money, pausing occasionally to take a sip from a tall glass behind the bar. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Fuck you, Martin. Fuck you,” Dave muttered.
They crept into the dark alley where Matt said Martin’s car would be parked, looking around to make sure nobody had seen them. There it was, a red Explorer complete with Linkin Park sticker and all. They circled the vehicle and searched for the license plate lamp. Try as they might, they were just to drunk and couldn’t find it.
“Fuck it,” Dave said and kicked a taillight in.
Eddie laughed and yelled, “This is for Matt!” and kicked in the other taillight. They laughed and ran off.
A few days later Dave and Eddie sat relaxing and eating popsicles at Eddie’s house after a round of golf. They had forgotten all about Martin and his Explorer.
Just then, John’s sister, Karen, walked through the door.
“Hey, did you two ass-clowns hear what happened to that bartender from Studio Lucky?”
Dave and Eddie sat straight up in their seats as the events of the night flashed back into their minds.
“Here, it’s in the paper,” Karen said and tossed a newspaper to Eddie.
Martin, just like every night, had had a few to many at work and had attempted to drive home. The dim light in the alley had prevented him from noticing his broken taillights. When he saw red and blue lights flashing behind him, he didn’t know they were planning on writing him a simple fix-it ticket. He panicked and tried to get away. He only made it a few corners before losing control and slamming into a parked car. He leapt from the vehicle and attempted to flee on foot but was quickly tackled by an officer. When the police searched his vehicle, they realized why he had fled. Inside the Explorer the police found 14 grams of cocaine and an unregistered handgun. Martin would be receiving more than just a DUI. He was going to jail.
Dave and Eddie sat staring at each other in stunned silence.
“Eddie, do you have plans for this Thursday night?”
“No, why?”
“Because we’re not banned from Studio Lucky anymore! We are going to Lady‘s Night!”
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Beer Theft
The following story occurred when Dave and Eddie were both 20 years old. Not being old enough to legally purchase alcohol, they usually had to resort to trickery in order get their hands on it, as the following story will show. Enjoy.
It was a rainy Friday evening and Dave Tree had the throttle of his little Ford Ranger mashed to the floor. He was on his way home from work and was in a major hurry. Several nights earlier, he and his friend, Eddie Jon, had managed to pilfer four 30-packs of beer from a house party in preparation for this weekend. Eddie’s parents had left on vacation and the two were planning on partying. As Dave neared home, he decided he couldn’t wait and went directly to Eddie’s house.
Dave barreled into Eddie’s driveway and grabbed the e-brake to announce his arrival. The truck skidded through the driveway, knocked over a portable basketball hoop and slid to a stop halfway in the front lawn. Dave laughed, bounded out of his truck, threw open Eddie’s front door and yelled,
“Who’s ready to get fucked up on some stolen Pabst?!”
Eddie slowly emerged from around a corner and Dave knew instantly that something wasn’t right. Eddie’s shoulders slumped as he opened his mouth to speak, then he shut it again without saying anything. He sighed heavily.
“You better not be flakin’ on me Eddie, we didn’t risk getting our asses kicked to not drink that beer!”
“The beer is gone,” he replied, eyes staring at the floor.
“What?”
Eddie handed Dave a pink post-it note. It read as follows:
“Dear fuck-stick, remember that time you sprinkled cayenne pepper in my panty drawer? Well we still aren’t even but this is a start. Fuck you and have fun not getting drunk tonight. Your loving sister, Karen.”
“She took all four cases and left that note in their place,” muttered Eddie.
Dave was enraged, and Eddie tried to calm him.
“It’s not that big of a deal, you know we did steal that beer in the first place.”
“This is different,” yelled Dave as he slapped his palm with his fist.
“How’s that?”
“Because it happened to us this time!”
“I see your point, but what are we going to do about it?” Eddie asked.
The two stared at one another, waiting for the other to come up with a solution. Eddie scratched his chin with his thumb while Dave continued to angrily pound his fist into his palm. After a few intense moments, Eddie broke the silence.
“Ok, if we are going to party tonight, we are going to need beer. Let’s go play pool while we think of a way to get some.”
The two arrived at the billiard hall to a scene of flashing police lights and caution tape. An old rusty pickup truck was lodged where the front door had once been and broken glass covered the sidewalk. Dave rolled down a window and asked a nearby officer what was going on.
“What does it look like?“ he replied. “Jed Clampett lost control and plowed into the building.”
They gawked at the spectacle for a few moments before driving to a nearby retirement community. Eddie had heard that there was a couple of pool tables in their clubhouse. A few minutes later they arrived and pulled up to the security booth guarding the entrance. On overweight middle-aged security guard peered at them over the top of a copy of Guns and Ammo.
“You gentlemen here to visit someone?” he asked.
Dave stared at the guard and thought about asking him if he was really dumb enough to think that two young men would be doing anything other than visiting a retirement community. He instead politely replied,
“We’re here to visit our grandmother. She’s been sick and we thought a visit would cheer her up.”
The guard looked at Dave‘s white skin, then over at Eddie’s Mexican-brown skin. He thought about asking Dave if he was really dumb enough to think that anyone could think that these two young men both came from the same grandmother. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “whatever,” and opened the gate.
They drove through and Dave started laughing.
“Yeah, I know that was easy, huh?” Eddie chuckled.
“That’s not what I’m laughing at,“ replied Dave, laughing even harder now. “What then?”
“You’ll know in a minute.”
A few seconds later Eddie’s eyes began to water and a putrid smell assaulted his nostrils.
“Holy SHIT! I can taste that!” screamed Eddie.
Beside himself with laughter, Dave reached over and activated the power window lock.
“Let me roll my window down man, either that or I blow chunks all over your dashboard!”
The flatulence was so potent that even though it was his own, Dave could no longer stand it either. He also did not want Eddie’s vomit spewed all over the inside of his truck. He parked and the two shot out of the cab.
“What the hell? What did you eat?” Eddie asked through stinging tears.
“I ate a Mega-Burrito from the taco truck earlier and I’ve been like this since then,” replied Dave happily.
They stood there for a few moments, Eddie’s chest heaving to regain his breath, Dave’s chest heaving with laughter. Eddie looked around and spotted the clubhouse down the street and began walking toward it. They reached the front entrance and were pleased to find it unlocked. There wasn’t a sign of anyone anywhere. Dave and Eddie sauntered down a hallway and around a corner. Sure enough, there were two beautiful pool tables waiting for them. Dave held his hand up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and pulled a cue stick off the wall. Dave shrugged his shoulders and went to rack the table. He looked in the pockets. No balls. He looked under the table. Still no balls. Positive the balls had to be close, the two started hunting around in cabinets and closets. A few minutes into the search Dave heard Eddie let out an excited shout.
“Yatzee!” Eddie whooped from down the hall.
“Did you find the balls?”
“Forget the damn balls! Come have a look at this!”
Dave abandoned his search and hurriedly made his way down the hall and into the storage room where Eddie was. His jaw dropped. Stacked in several rows at least six feet high, were cases of beer. Amazing, delicious beer. Dave’s gaping mouth gave way into an ear-to-ear grin and a warm, cozy feeling filled his chest.
For a brief moment they pondered the moral issues of stealing from the elderly.
“I don’t know about stealing from old people,” Eddie said. “Then again, they probably wouldn’t miss one or two cases, right?”
“To hell with one or two cases. All old people have diabetes. The more beer we take, the more years we add to their lives,” reasoned Dave.
“Yeah, we are actually doing them a favor. Ok, it’s time to get some beer!” Eddie gleefully concluded.
After a few nervous glances to make sure nobody was watching them, Dave backed the truck up, threw open the tailgate and the two went to work. Case after case was loaded into the little truck. The bed began to squat and the tires bulged slightly. It was going well until Eddie’s feet slipped out from underneath him on a wet step. The two cases he was carrying flew out of his arms and exploded on the ground with a tremendous crash. Before the clamor of breaking glass had even left the air, Eddie was back up on his feet and streaking inside to grab Dave.
“Dave, where the fuck are you? We have to go right now!” he yelled.
“Dude, I’m in here.” Dave’s muffled voice came from behind a bathroom door.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
“I told you man, it’s that taco truck. My ass is out of control!”
Eddie felt a tinge of panic creep into his toes, then surge up his calves.
“Hurry up, I just dropped two cases of beer and it was fucking loud!”
Eddie nervously paced back and forth, waiting while the panic continued its upward journey into his thighs and stomach.
Finally, Dave emerged looking like he had just been in the fight of his life. He was breathing heavily and beads of sweat were running down his face.
“Thanks a lot, now I have to finish later,” He moaned.
Nervous as he was, Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as the two raced toward the exit. As they passed through the front doors, all mirth ceased and Dave and Eddie stopped dead in their tracks. There was an old man clad in matching bright yellow sweat pants and sweatshirt standing outside, holding a baseball bat. He was looking at the plundered brew, scowling. Panic shot up into Eddie’s chest.
“Heading to a ball game sir?” he asked innocently.
Silence.
“We had that beer before we got here,” Dave offered.
“Sure you did. And your windshield was broken before you got here too,” the old man spat back. “You two bastards are going to put this beer back and then you’re going to clean up this mess!” The old man motioned menacingly at the glass shards scattered on the ground.
As the panic was about to hit Eddie‘s head, it suddenly gave way to adrenaline. He charged the old man, shrieking the whole way. Stunned, Dave could only watch wide-eyed as the old man raised the bat to swing. But it was to late. Eddie was already there. He grabbed the bat, wrestled it away, and tossed it down the street..
“Dave! Go! NOW!”
In one fluid motion, Dave pulled the keys from his pocket, jumped in the truck and fired up the engine. Eddie didn’t even have his door shut before the truck was sliding sideways across the wet pavement. The old man chased after them on foot but gave up when a case of beer flew out of the truck and nearly leveled him.
“Shit, I don’t remember where we came in!” Dave cursed as he narrowly avoided a bank of mailboxes.
“Just get us out of here before they call the cops,” Eddie quietly replied, jaw clenched.
As Dave drove hot laps through the neighborhood, cases of beer were flying out of the back of the truck. They were leaving a Hansel and Gretel trail of broken bottles and foamy beer. By the time they blasted past the security station to freedom, there wasn’t a single case left in the truck. Dejected, neither one said a word for a few moments. Eddie stared out the passenger window into the pouring rain.
“Maybe we should give up for tonight,” he said thoughtfully.
“No way man. Don’t think like that. Call Chris and see if will buy some beer for us.”
“He’s in Colorado visiting his sister.”
“What about Jeff?”
“He’s still mad at you for drawing gigantic penises all over his face when he passed out last week.”
“C‘mon, everyone does that!”
“I agree Dave, but he had a job interview the next day.”
“Shiiiit, then he shouldn’t have been drinking anyway. Call Brandon, he’s cool, right?”
“He’s still pissed at me for, um, an incident.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. It was his fault for leaving those magazines in his bathroom anyway.”
Dave took a deep breath and sighed.
“Eddie, why is everyone always pissed at us?”
“I’m don’t know or care. Let’s go to 7-11, I have an idea.”
Once inside 7-11, Dave busied himself by rubber-banding the slurpie valve open while Eddie grabbed two 40 oz. bottles of Olde English. He nonchalantly placed them on the counter. The clerk eyed him suspiciously.
“And a pack of reds,” Eddie instructed.
“I’ll need your ID,” she replied in a gravelly voice as she turned to retrieve the cigarettes.
“You got it bitch!” Eddie yelled.
He slammed a 10-dollar bill on the counter, grabbed the beers and bolted. Realizing what had just happened, Dave followed, laughing hysterically. Speechless, the clerk stood staring, one hand still holding the pack of cigarettes.
Outside, Dave and Eddie hurriedly hopped into the truck and sped off, elated in their small victory.
“That was a good idea, my friend,” Dave exclaimed and held his hand up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and took a gulp of his malt liquor.
“Lets go back to my house and mess with my sister’s stuff. I‘m going to put cayenne in her KY this time.”
“Ok, I will give her an over-under.” Dave replied.
“Over-under?”
“It’s when you poop in the tank instead of the toilet bowl. The next time she flushes, the rest of my taco truck lunch ends up in the bowl!” Dave chuckled as he finished off his sentence.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
With their appetite for beer temporarily satisfied, they drove the rest of the way home sipping their beverages in relaxed silence. After arriving, Dave headed straight to Karen’s bathroom. The rest of his taco truck lunch was starting to knock at the door and he had no interest in playing poo yo-yo.
“You need a magazine?” asked Eddie.
“No, I got my Olde English to keep me company,” called Dave as he balanced himself on the toilet reservoir.
Before long, they had completed their revenge and their focus was beginning to shift back to the procurement of alcohol.
“There’s always the ZGR house,” Dave suggested. “That frat is always partying.”
Eddie looked at Dave like he had just emerged from a psych ward.
“Are you crazy? You know we can’t go there! Animal threatened to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them if I ever showed up there again! I’m not sure he wouldn’t do it, he‘s crazy!”
Eddie’s fears were not unfounded. Mike Wayland, known to those around him as, “Animal,” was the unofficial ZGR bouncer and had a reputation for brawling when he drank. Animal had banned Eddie from the property after walking in on Eddie and Animal’s girlfriend half naked, about to have sex. Eddie had managed to barely escape out of an open window and sprint away wearing nothing but his underwear. The event had left him with a healthy respect of Animal’s violent nature.
“C’mooon! He might not even be there.” Dave argued.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Eddie responded.
“Let’s just go drive by and see what’s going on over there,” Dave insisted “It’s the only shot we have of salvaging the night!”
Eddie realized that he had two options. It was either stay at home for the rest of the night and listen to Dave whine about not having any beer, or risk humiliation at the ZGR house. He looked at Dave and stood up slowly, purposefully. A look of stoic resolve came across his face.
“No guts not glory Dave, let’s go to ZGR,” he said matter-of-factly and strode outside.
“Yes!” Dave exclaimed and chased him out, his hand held up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and hopped in the truck.
Dave shrugged his shoulders and followed suit. It was beer time.
They arrived at the ZGR house and parked a half a block down the street. They sat in the truck, quietly surveying the situation. Sure enough, there was a full scale party underway and crowds of people could be seen through the windows and on the front porch. The two were about to try their luck at blending in with everyone when the crowd at the front porch suddenly parted and a man came half crawling, half stumbling, out of the door. Blood trickled from his nose as he paused and attempted to stand up before descending the stairs leading to the sidewalk. A tall, hulking figure slowly emerged from the house and delivered a swift kick to his ribs. The man collapsed in pain and oozed down the stairs.
“An-i-mal! An-i-mal! An-i-mal!” Chanted several people.
Animal laughed, turned around and rejoined the party.
“Ok, so, on to plan B. We throw a Molotov Cocktail in there, wait for everyone to come running out, and we’ll have free access to the booze,” Eddie joked nervously.
There was no turning back. They were here and were committed to making their night a success. They sneaked quietly through the rain past the front of the house and made their way to the backyard fence. Eddie peered over the top of the fence. About 80 feet away two kegs were sitting on the back porch next to a picnic table. A wheelbarrow sat several yards away. Every minute or so, someone would come out, quickly fill up a cup then hurry back inside and out of the rain.
Dave and Eddie looked at each other and realized that their entire night hinged on the actions that would take place in the next few minutes. They were either going to get their asses kicked, or end up with a keg of beer that would last them the entire weekend.
“It’s go time,” Dave whispered and the two sprung into action. They hoisted themselves over the fence. They slid the picnic table against the fence. Dave retrieved the wheelbarrow and it went over the fence. They worked with seamless precision. Next came the keg. They each gripped one side and lifted it onto the table. They jumped up on the table and were beginning to think they were home free when they heard the back door open.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie turned around. It was Animal. The two locked eyes for a split second.
“YOU! YOU’RE DEAD!” Animal’s voice was choked with rage. He ran towards them with a murderous expression on his face. Dave and Eddie heaved the keg over the fence climbed over. Into the wheelbarrow went the keg and the two were off and running to the truck. By now Animal had reached the picnic table and attempted to launch himself over the fence in a single smooth motion. As his foot made contact with the table, it slipped on the wet surface. One leg was already over the fence, and all of Animal’s weight came down heavily on his testicles. His screams of anger turned to screams of pain as he slowly rolled sideways off the fence and landed on the sidewalk with a heavy thud. Dave and Eddie reached the truck and quickly loaded the keg, making sure to shut the tailgate this time.
By the time they arrived back home, it was beginning to sink in.
“We did it! We have beer!” Dave half laughed, half screamed in triumph as they began pumping foamy beer from the keg. He held his hand up for a high-five.
Eddie smiled, took a sip of beer, and returned the gesture.
It was a rainy Friday evening and Dave Tree had the throttle of his little Ford Ranger mashed to the floor. He was on his way home from work and was in a major hurry. Several nights earlier, he and his friend, Eddie Jon, had managed to pilfer four 30-packs of beer from a house party in preparation for this weekend. Eddie’s parents had left on vacation and the two were planning on partying. As Dave neared home, he decided he couldn’t wait and went directly to Eddie’s house.
Dave barreled into Eddie’s driveway and grabbed the e-brake to announce his arrival. The truck skidded through the driveway, knocked over a portable basketball hoop and slid to a stop halfway in the front lawn. Dave laughed, bounded out of his truck, threw open Eddie’s front door and yelled,
“Who’s ready to get fucked up on some stolen Pabst?!”
Eddie slowly emerged from around a corner and Dave knew instantly that something wasn’t right. Eddie’s shoulders slumped as he opened his mouth to speak, then he shut it again without saying anything. He sighed heavily.
“You better not be flakin’ on me Eddie, we didn’t risk getting our asses kicked to not drink that beer!”
“The beer is gone,” he replied, eyes staring at the floor.
“What?”
Eddie handed Dave a pink post-it note. It read as follows:
“Dear fuck-stick, remember that time you sprinkled cayenne pepper in my panty drawer? Well we still aren’t even but this is a start. Fuck you and have fun not getting drunk tonight. Your loving sister, Karen.”
“She took all four cases and left that note in their place,” muttered Eddie.
Dave was enraged, and Eddie tried to calm him.
“It’s not that big of a deal, you know we did steal that beer in the first place.”
“This is different,” yelled Dave as he slapped his palm with his fist.
“How’s that?”
“Because it happened to us this time!”
“I see your point, but what are we going to do about it?” Eddie asked.
The two stared at one another, waiting for the other to come up with a solution. Eddie scratched his chin with his thumb while Dave continued to angrily pound his fist into his palm. After a few intense moments, Eddie broke the silence.
“Ok, if we are going to party tonight, we are going to need beer. Let’s go play pool while we think of a way to get some.”
The two arrived at the billiard hall to a scene of flashing police lights and caution tape. An old rusty pickup truck was lodged where the front door had once been and broken glass covered the sidewalk. Dave rolled down a window and asked a nearby officer what was going on.
“What does it look like?“ he replied. “Jed Clampett lost control and plowed into the building.”
They gawked at the spectacle for a few moments before driving to a nearby retirement community. Eddie had heard that there was a couple of pool tables in their clubhouse. A few minutes later they arrived and pulled up to the security booth guarding the entrance. On overweight middle-aged security guard peered at them over the top of a copy of Guns and Ammo.
“You gentlemen here to visit someone?” he asked.
Dave stared at the guard and thought about asking him if he was really dumb enough to think that two young men would be doing anything other than visiting a retirement community. He instead politely replied,
“We’re here to visit our grandmother. She’s been sick and we thought a visit would cheer her up.”
The guard looked at Dave‘s white skin, then over at Eddie’s Mexican-brown skin. He thought about asking Dave if he was really dumb enough to think that anyone could think that these two young men both came from the same grandmother. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “whatever,” and opened the gate.
They drove through and Dave started laughing.
“Yeah, I know that was easy, huh?” Eddie chuckled.
“That’s not what I’m laughing at,“ replied Dave, laughing even harder now. “What then?”
“You’ll know in a minute.”
A few seconds later Eddie’s eyes began to water and a putrid smell assaulted his nostrils.
“Holy SHIT! I can taste that!” screamed Eddie.
Beside himself with laughter, Dave reached over and activated the power window lock.
“Let me roll my window down man, either that or I blow chunks all over your dashboard!”
The flatulence was so potent that even though it was his own, Dave could no longer stand it either. He also did not want Eddie’s vomit spewed all over the inside of his truck. He parked and the two shot out of the cab.
“What the hell? What did you eat?” Eddie asked through stinging tears.
“I ate a Mega-Burrito from the taco truck earlier and I’ve been like this since then,” replied Dave happily.
They stood there for a few moments, Eddie’s chest heaving to regain his breath, Dave’s chest heaving with laughter. Eddie looked around and spotted the clubhouse down the street and began walking toward it. They reached the front entrance and were pleased to find it unlocked. There wasn’t a sign of anyone anywhere. Dave and Eddie sauntered down a hallway and around a corner. Sure enough, there were two beautiful pool tables waiting for them. Dave held his hand up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and pulled a cue stick off the wall. Dave shrugged his shoulders and went to rack the table. He looked in the pockets. No balls. He looked under the table. Still no balls. Positive the balls had to be close, the two started hunting around in cabinets and closets. A few minutes into the search Dave heard Eddie let out an excited shout.
“Yatzee!” Eddie whooped from down the hall.
“Did you find the balls?”
“Forget the damn balls! Come have a look at this!”
Dave abandoned his search and hurriedly made his way down the hall and into the storage room where Eddie was. His jaw dropped. Stacked in several rows at least six feet high, were cases of beer. Amazing, delicious beer. Dave’s gaping mouth gave way into an ear-to-ear grin and a warm, cozy feeling filled his chest.
For a brief moment they pondered the moral issues of stealing from the elderly.
“I don’t know about stealing from old people,” Eddie said. “Then again, they probably wouldn’t miss one or two cases, right?”
“To hell with one or two cases. All old people have diabetes. The more beer we take, the more years we add to their lives,” reasoned Dave.
“Yeah, we are actually doing them a favor. Ok, it’s time to get some beer!” Eddie gleefully concluded.
After a few nervous glances to make sure nobody was watching them, Dave backed the truck up, threw open the tailgate and the two went to work. Case after case was loaded into the little truck. The bed began to squat and the tires bulged slightly. It was going well until Eddie’s feet slipped out from underneath him on a wet step. The two cases he was carrying flew out of his arms and exploded on the ground with a tremendous crash. Before the clamor of breaking glass had even left the air, Eddie was back up on his feet and streaking inside to grab Dave.
“Dave, where the fuck are you? We have to go right now!” he yelled.
“Dude, I’m in here.” Dave’s muffled voice came from behind a bathroom door.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
“I told you man, it’s that taco truck. My ass is out of control!”
Eddie felt a tinge of panic creep into his toes, then surge up his calves.
“Hurry up, I just dropped two cases of beer and it was fucking loud!”
Eddie nervously paced back and forth, waiting while the panic continued its upward journey into his thighs and stomach.
Finally, Dave emerged looking like he had just been in the fight of his life. He was breathing heavily and beads of sweat were running down his face.
“Thanks a lot, now I have to finish later,” He moaned.
Nervous as he was, Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as the two raced toward the exit. As they passed through the front doors, all mirth ceased and Dave and Eddie stopped dead in their tracks. There was an old man clad in matching bright yellow sweat pants and sweatshirt standing outside, holding a baseball bat. He was looking at the plundered brew, scowling. Panic shot up into Eddie’s chest.
“Heading to a ball game sir?” he asked innocently.
Silence.
“We had that beer before we got here,” Dave offered.
“Sure you did. And your windshield was broken before you got here too,” the old man spat back. “You two bastards are going to put this beer back and then you’re going to clean up this mess!” The old man motioned menacingly at the glass shards scattered on the ground.
As the panic was about to hit Eddie‘s head, it suddenly gave way to adrenaline. He charged the old man, shrieking the whole way. Stunned, Dave could only watch wide-eyed as the old man raised the bat to swing. But it was to late. Eddie was already there. He grabbed the bat, wrestled it away, and tossed it down the street..
“Dave! Go! NOW!”
In one fluid motion, Dave pulled the keys from his pocket, jumped in the truck and fired up the engine. Eddie didn’t even have his door shut before the truck was sliding sideways across the wet pavement. The old man chased after them on foot but gave up when a case of beer flew out of the truck and nearly leveled him.
“Shit, I don’t remember where we came in!” Dave cursed as he narrowly avoided a bank of mailboxes.
“Just get us out of here before they call the cops,” Eddie quietly replied, jaw clenched.
As Dave drove hot laps through the neighborhood, cases of beer were flying out of the back of the truck. They were leaving a Hansel and Gretel trail of broken bottles and foamy beer. By the time they blasted past the security station to freedom, there wasn’t a single case left in the truck. Dejected, neither one said a word for a few moments. Eddie stared out the passenger window into the pouring rain.
“Maybe we should give up for tonight,” he said thoughtfully.
“No way man. Don’t think like that. Call Chris and see if will buy some beer for us.”
“He’s in Colorado visiting his sister.”
“What about Jeff?”
“He’s still mad at you for drawing gigantic penises all over his face when he passed out last week.”
“C‘mon, everyone does that!”
“I agree Dave, but he had a job interview the next day.”
“Shiiiit, then he shouldn’t have been drinking anyway. Call Brandon, he’s cool, right?”
“He’s still pissed at me for, um, an incident.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. It was his fault for leaving those magazines in his bathroom anyway.”
Dave took a deep breath and sighed.
“Eddie, why is everyone always pissed at us?”
“I’m don’t know or care. Let’s go to 7-11, I have an idea.”
Once inside 7-11, Dave busied himself by rubber-banding the slurpie valve open while Eddie grabbed two 40 oz. bottles of Olde English. He nonchalantly placed them on the counter. The clerk eyed him suspiciously.
“And a pack of reds,” Eddie instructed.
“I’ll need your ID,” she replied in a gravelly voice as she turned to retrieve the cigarettes.
“You got it bitch!” Eddie yelled.
He slammed a 10-dollar bill on the counter, grabbed the beers and bolted. Realizing what had just happened, Dave followed, laughing hysterically. Speechless, the clerk stood staring, one hand still holding the pack of cigarettes.
Outside, Dave and Eddie hurriedly hopped into the truck and sped off, elated in their small victory.
“That was a good idea, my friend,” Dave exclaimed and held his hand up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and took a gulp of his malt liquor.
“Lets go back to my house and mess with my sister’s stuff. I‘m going to put cayenne in her KY this time.”
“Ok, I will give her an over-under.” Dave replied.
“Over-under?”
“It’s when you poop in the tank instead of the toilet bowl. The next time she flushes, the rest of my taco truck lunch ends up in the bowl!” Dave chuckled as he finished off his sentence.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
With their appetite for beer temporarily satisfied, they drove the rest of the way home sipping their beverages in relaxed silence. After arriving, Dave headed straight to Karen’s bathroom. The rest of his taco truck lunch was starting to knock at the door and he had no interest in playing poo yo-yo.
“You need a magazine?” asked Eddie.
“No, I got my Olde English to keep me company,” called Dave as he balanced himself on the toilet reservoir.
Before long, they had completed their revenge and their focus was beginning to shift back to the procurement of alcohol.
“There’s always the ZGR house,” Dave suggested. “That frat is always partying.”
Eddie looked at Dave like he had just emerged from a psych ward.
“Are you crazy? You know we can’t go there! Animal threatened to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them if I ever showed up there again! I’m not sure he wouldn’t do it, he‘s crazy!”
Eddie’s fears were not unfounded. Mike Wayland, known to those around him as, “Animal,” was the unofficial ZGR bouncer and had a reputation for brawling when he drank. Animal had banned Eddie from the property after walking in on Eddie and Animal’s girlfriend half naked, about to have sex. Eddie had managed to barely escape out of an open window and sprint away wearing nothing but his underwear. The event had left him with a healthy respect of Animal’s violent nature.
“C’mooon! He might not even be there.” Dave argued.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Eddie responded.
“Let’s just go drive by and see what’s going on over there,” Dave insisted “It’s the only shot we have of salvaging the night!”
Eddie realized that he had two options. It was either stay at home for the rest of the night and listen to Dave whine about not having any beer, or risk humiliation at the ZGR house. He looked at Dave and stood up slowly, purposefully. A look of stoic resolve came across his face.
“No guts not glory Dave, let’s go to ZGR,” he said matter-of-factly and strode outside.
“Yes!” Dave exclaimed and chased him out, his hand held up for a high-five. Eddie ignored the gesture and hopped in the truck.
Dave shrugged his shoulders and followed suit. It was beer time.
They arrived at the ZGR house and parked a half a block down the street. They sat in the truck, quietly surveying the situation. Sure enough, there was a full scale party underway and crowds of people could be seen through the windows and on the front porch. The two were about to try their luck at blending in with everyone when the crowd at the front porch suddenly parted and a man came half crawling, half stumbling, out of the door. Blood trickled from his nose as he paused and attempted to stand up before descending the stairs leading to the sidewalk. A tall, hulking figure slowly emerged from the house and delivered a swift kick to his ribs. The man collapsed in pain and oozed down the stairs.
“An-i-mal! An-i-mal! An-i-mal!” Chanted several people.
Animal laughed, turned around and rejoined the party.
“Ok, so, on to plan B. We throw a Molotov Cocktail in there, wait for everyone to come running out, and we’ll have free access to the booze,” Eddie joked nervously.
There was no turning back. They were here and were committed to making their night a success. They sneaked quietly through the rain past the front of the house and made their way to the backyard fence. Eddie peered over the top of the fence. About 80 feet away two kegs were sitting on the back porch next to a picnic table. A wheelbarrow sat several yards away. Every minute or so, someone would come out, quickly fill up a cup then hurry back inside and out of the rain.
Dave and Eddie looked at each other and realized that their entire night hinged on the actions that would take place in the next few minutes. They were either going to get their asses kicked, or end up with a keg of beer that would last them the entire weekend.
“It’s go time,” Dave whispered and the two sprung into action. They hoisted themselves over the fence. They slid the picnic table against the fence. Dave retrieved the wheelbarrow and it went over the fence. They worked with seamless precision. Next came the keg. They each gripped one side and lifted it onto the table. They jumped up on the table and were beginning to think they were home free when they heard the back door open.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie turned around. It was Animal. The two locked eyes for a split second.
“YOU! YOU’RE DEAD!” Animal’s voice was choked with rage. He ran towards them with a murderous expression on his face. Dave and Eddie heaved the keg over the fence climbed over. Into the wheelbarrow went the keg and the two were off and running to the truck. By now Animal had reached the picnic table and attempted to launch himself over the fence in a single smooth motion. As his foot made contact with the table, it slipped on the wet surface. One leg was already over the fence, and all of Animal’s weight came down heavily on his testicles. His screams of anger turned to screams of pain as he slowly rolled sideways off the fence and landed on the sidewalk with a heavy thud. Dave and Eddie reached the truck and quickly loaded the keg, making sure to shut the tailgate this time.
By the time they arrived back home, it was beginning to sink in.
“We did it! We have beer!” Dave half laughed, half screamed in triumph as they began pumping foamy beer from the keg. He held his hand up for a high-five.
Eddie smiled, took a sip of beer, and returned the gesture.
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