JHF: OU Episode (Bob Likes To Party)
Category: News Published on Friday, 04 May 2012 16:30 Written by Travis Ray (SuckMyTake) Hits: 485
This is the messy afterbirth of an idea which might become an offseason series if I can put the bottle down and give a damn.
Iffy...Very Iffy.
The JOKE is that its as outrageous and ridiculous as possible, imaging the characters behaving so crass and uncouth.
Its offseason and this isnt about football: This is just a joke people. Laugh sometime, its good for you.
Four flavescent lines of fish scale are divided up across the mirror. Poison blares on the boom box while both Stoops brothers rock the air guitar, head banging and singing along with Bret Micheals. Bob Stoops waits for the guitar solo and then grabs the 7-11 straw.
“Im going to do a whole gram, right now, bro!” Bob declares defiantly
“Man…. You better hold up Bobby, remember last time you got too wasted? You almost drowned that hooker in the toilet. Fucking Tijuana, man” Mike Stoops cautions as he moves into the slow groove of an epic rock ballad.
“That was just a misunderstanding! She over reacted like a real bitch” Bob turns his OU tennis visor sideways then inhales the rail of boom-boom dust and exhales loudly, “WHOOOOO!!! YEAH! BOOMER GOD DAMN SOONER!!!”
“Yeah! Boomer Sooner!!” agrees Mike as he holds a high note on the air guitar
A knock at the door shocks both of them but before they can gather the wits to begin hiding illegal substances they hear Barry beckoning them to open the door, “Hey you shitters! Open the door! I cant be seen in the hallway of a hotel with escorts!!” Switzer looks at the blonde, “Im going to do all kinds of freaky shit to you, sugar. Have you ever used a strapon?” before she can answer Mike opens the door.
“Get in here, what the fuck Barry!” Mike checks left and right down the hall way after they parade into the room, hastily closing the door and latching all the locks.
“You said you were going to get god damn ice, Switzer! What is this?” Bob asks gesturing toward the 3 very young looking escorts. “This isn’t 1980, Barry! We cant have whores in here!” His visor bill still cocked over his right ear.
“WHORES?!!” Switzer objects, “These are Oklahomas Finest Working Girls!!” corrects Barry, watching Bob razor scrape together a line of woogie boogie. Stoops prepares him self to finish his gram.
“Aint that right darlin’?” Barry asks one, slapping her ass
“God damn right! BOOMER!”
“Sooner!” the occupants of the hotel room call back.
"Turn that cuntracket off! Jesus yall listen to the worst god damn music" Switzer bangs on the boom box knocking off the Iphone.
"Take it easy, Barry. You always show up and act like a dick..." Mike picks the phone up and finds some Merle Haggard he keeps on the phone to shut Switzer up.
Bob finishes his gutter glitter and lets out a wolfs howl “YES! YES! That’s it! That’s fucking IT” Jerking his visor back facing front, He throws a four piece combo, expelling loud gusts as he shadow boxes
“Bob…. Calm down… Remember, no fighting?” Switzer says settling into a recliner and pulling two of the escorts into his lap
“FUCK YOU SWITZER!!!” Bob punches the air some more and tries to do a flying roundhouse, falling against a desk before crashing to the floor. He gropes for his visor and stuffs it back on his head before trying to get up and failing.
“Mike… isn’t this what we brought you back for?? To make sure this shit doesn’t happen like before the Baylor game and Bedlam??” To punctuate his question he gives one of the escorts a nasty titty twister, making her squeal.
“Yeah! Grab a titty!” Bob shouts getting back to his feet, his bloodshot gaze swings to the last girl. She recoils, backing away slowly.
“Bobby…. Cmon, now. She doesn’t want a swirley, ok?” Mike says before deciding he needed more Bolivian Marching Powder if he is going to keep this in check.
“I had this great idea!” Bob starts bouncing on his toes like he is jumping rope, “Check it out: A mechanical vagina you can plug into the wall” He pauses for dramatic effect waiting for the brilliance to sink in around the room.
“Bob, you dumbshit, they already have those” Switzer says pouring himself a scotch
Bob turns his tennis visor backwards while he hops, “No, see they don’t have any like *I* am going to make..” Bob says landing on his feet in a karate pose “Im going to make vampire and werewolf plug in pussies. BAM. Fuck you!” He gives a dramatic front kick followed by a few jabs “Its what all the kids want now. Vamp poon.”
“That’s a good idea, you should make dongs too” Mike says sarcastically. He holds his head back while alternating clasping each nostril and inhaling every bit of coke he can.
“I would buy one” says the blonde on Barrys lap
“Ill buy you one sweetheart if you promise to give me show with…. Ummmm… whats your name sweetie?” he asks the other.
“MarieClaire Daisy”
“That’s a stupid fucking name.” interjects Mike, keeping an eye on Bob who is settling into a crouching matrix-horse stance. Bob reaches up and makes robotic sounds as he slowly pulls his hat around, making transformer noises as he "locks it in".
“I know Kung Fu”
“You don’t know SHIT” Barry tells Bob then takes a long drink of his scotch and proceeds to shove his tongue down MarieClaire Daisy’s throat. She pushes against an invisible wall like a mime, restraining her self from shoving away.
“Loosen up, Darlin’. The party is just getting started!” Barry promises. “Hey, Get out of there bastard!” Switzer demands, noticing Bob riffling through his bag.
“He likes when we…” starts the third one
“Shut your hooker face!!!” Barry says leaping to his feet, almost sending the two escorts on his lap sprawling on the floor.
Bob turns his visor backwards again then presses the back of the dildo-crotch against his forehead, points the floppy cock in Mikes direction and starts stomping his feet like an enraged bull.
“Gross, Bobby. Get that shit off your head”
“Get the towel Mike, like a matador”
"You look like Freddy Mercury reincarnated as a Unicorn" one of the escorts observes.
“Hell no. You aren’t coming near me with that shit…. That things been up Switzers ass” Mike starts backing away, disgusted.
“They don’t use it on me, dickhead! I like them to use it with one another while I wait for the next Viagra to kick in!”
“Sure, B.” Mike says, catching Bob rushing him out of the corner of his eye. He side steps his brother and sticks his foot out tripping Bob and sending him stumbling into the closet. “I said don’t touch me with that thing!! UGH!” Mike checks himself and his clothes, not sure what he was looking for or what a strapon sideswipe looks like anyway.
Bob rolls out of the closet and makes a clumsy spectacle getting to his feet, leaving his visor on the floor and instead throwing the strap on at Mike in frustration.
Mike easily ducks the floating dildo and turns watching it sail over his head and strike Barry Switzer right in the fucking in the eye while he takes a drink of scotch.
“OHHHHH!” He snorts the single malt up his nasal cavity and cries out at the burning and his eye that just got hit with a dildo. Barry coughs, dropping the glass of scotch, flinging his hand up to his cock-struck eye, holding the other out palm forward as if to ward off any more flying rubber dicks.
“You motherfuckers!”
The girls giggle and Bob draws his knee up into a karate-kid crane kick anticipating Switzers attack.
Still protecting his swelling eye he rushes the older Stoops. Despite being in the indefensable crane kick position, Bob cant manage the coordination to land while kicking with the other foot and Switzer smashes into him. Stoops falls to the hotel floor again, his right foot he had tried to kick with still hanging up in the air, tripping Switzer.
For a minute Switzer thinks he will keep his balance, but then Stoops' foot catches his ankle, his last prayer of staying standing. He takes a final lunging step....
Before crashing through the window and plummeting 3 stories.
“AWESOME” all three girls say at once.
“BOOOOMER!” Switzer cries out before crashing onto the sidewalk below
“SOONER!” everyone answers
“Shit….” Mike says looking out the billowing drapes at the shattered window.
“I can dodge bullets” Promises Bob.
“Shit.” Repeats Mike
They look around at one another, hearing Barry groan from the pavement below, something about calling 911, but he was ok to party still.
“Well…Fuck. You girls want some Booger Sugar?”
“Boomer!”
“SOONER!”
The End?