Totally Radical Sportz!

Three Assholes – Episode 107

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 12/21/2011

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 107 – A Christmas Party

Mary:  Now boys, I don’t want any mischief while we’re gone. We’ll be up in Dover-Foxcroft for the night and we want this place in tip-top shape when we get back in time for Christmas weekend. No more indoor snowball fights.

Mike:  Yes, Mom.

Mike Sr.:  You listen to your mother, son.

Mike:  Yes, Dad.

Mary:  (waving from the station wagon)  You boys be good.

Keith:  (waving, with lit firecracker behind back)  Bye, Mr. & Mrs. Miner!

(The station wagon pulls out and takes off down the road. Keith spins and hucks the firecracker into the Miners’ living room…)

Keith:  Party!

~~~

(Mike plops into his dad’s recliner while Keith battles the carpet fire with an extinguisher…)

Nate:  (on the couch with a cat in his lap)  So. Party?

Keith:  (looks up, sprays shoe with extinguisher)  Yeah yeah, party.

Mike:  No party. You heard Mom and Dad.

Keith:  What are you, twelve? C’mon, let’s party.

Mike:  No party.

Keith:  But MTV taught me that partying is cool.

Nate:  C’mon, Mike. Just a little shindig. It’s Christmas. We’ll buy a keg, stir up a little eggnog, wear Santa hats.

Keith:  Yeah! And put mistletoe on our crotches so girls have to kiss our wieners!

Mike:  Well…maybe just a little party.

Nate:  Great. I got a guy who can get us a keg.

Keith:  And I’ll call up Minnie and get her and her stripper friends over here. Talk about a Yule log! Wait, that didn’t make sense.

Mike:  How ’bout you let me handle the whole calling my girlfriend thing, Keith.

Nate:  Maybe we could invite some old friends from high school. I bet a lot of people are back in town visiting for the holidays.

Mike:  Okay, but let’s try to keep this low-key. Mom and Dad’ll kill me if they come home to an 80’s hair band video.

Keith:  Ooh! Let’s put a Santa hat on the cat!

~~~

(At Punchers, a local dive bar…)

Mike:  How are we going to afford this keg? Collectively we have, like, none money.

Nate:  Trust me, I know this guy. He used to work at the dam with my mom.  (bursts through the double-doors)  Tommy!

(A group of burly leather-clad ruffians turn and stare at the three assholes…)

Keith:  (whispering loudly)  Is this one of those S&M bars?

(A heavily-mustachioed giant makes his way through the bar patrons…)

Tommy:  Is that little Nate Shoops?

Nate:  (laughing nervously)  Well, not so little anymore.

Tommy:  No, no. You’re about the same size. Just as petite as the day I met you. How’s Mom?

Nate:  She’s dead.

Tommy:  Aw. I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. You need a drink?

Keith:  Yes.

Nate:  (elbows Keith)  Actually, we need a lot of them. We were hoping we could bum a keg off you.

Tommy:  Of course! Anything for a Shoops.

Nate:  Thing is, we don’t really have any money.

Tommy:  Well now, that’s a problem. What’s this keg for? Office Christmas party at the dam?

Nate:  No. They sorta outlawed alcohol shortly after you left.

(The men guffaw and Tommy pats his belly…)

Tommy:  Yeah, we had some fun times there.

Keith:  Didn’t you flood the town one summer?

Tommy:  (shoving a finger in Keith’s face)  There was a severe drought!

Nate:  Actually Tommy, we’re just having a little holiday season get-together at my friend Mike’s parents’ house.

Tommy:  A party, eh? I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a keg on the house. And four more on top of that, if my boys are invited.

Keith:  Deal!

Nate:  Now, not so fast. Pardon my judge-a-book-by-its-cover mentality, but you fellas sorta look like a biker gang.

Tommy:  Well, that’s because we are.

Nate:  Oh.

Tommy:  We’re the Old Dogs.

Mike:  Oh, like that Robin Williams laffer.

Tommy:  Hey, we had the name long before that movie which also co-stars John Travolta and a delightful supporting role by Family Guy‘s Seth Green.

Mike:  It really is a great film. And I’d imagine you can most likely purchase a copy at your nearest Best Buy.

Tommy:  Sure would make a helluva stocking-stuffer this holiday season.

Mike:  Sure would.

Tommy:  Great. So we’ll deliver the kegs tonight. Any girls gonna be there?

Keith:  (hanging up his cellphone)  Just got off the phone with Minnie. The entire staff of Diva’s Gentleman’s Club will be in attendance.

Tommy:  Ai chi-wa-wa! We’re gonna have a ball tonight, boys!

(The bike gang hoots and hollers as Mike, Nate and Keith make their way towards the exit…)

Mike:  Um.

Nate:  Just roll with it, Mikey.

Mike:  (sighs)  I just know one of those bikes is gonna end up parked in my living room.

Keith:  Your mom’s living room.

~~~

(That evening Mike, Nate and Keith are mingling with the strippers and their other guests, which are one guy…)

Oliver:  Hey, guys.

Keith:  (pointing directly at Oliver’s face)  Oliver Welsh? This is the best we could do?

Oliver:  Heh. Keith’s still got it!

Mike:  I invited everybody on my Facebook that we went to high school with. Oliver was the only one to respond.

Oliver:  Hehe. First!

Keith:  (sighs)  Oliver, you have always been the worst.

Oliver:  (pouts)

Mike:  (gagging)  Ugh. Keith, what did you put in this eggnog?

Keith:  Ooh, that’s not eggnog.

Nate:  Where the heck are the Old Dogs?

(Oliver gets punched hard and collapses to the ground as the door flies open and the biker gang blasts in with kegs and assorted barfolk…)

Tommy:  (tapping the first keg)  Happy holidays!

(Everyone cheers as Tommy sprays beer foam on the strippers…)

Otto:  Where can I put this keg, Blotto?

Blotto:  Here, Otto. I’ll make some room.

(Blotto raises a sledgehammer over his head and brings it down on the oak coffee table, sending wood shards everywhere…)

Mike:  Oh c’mon, Blotto!

Keith:  Bikers rule!

Mike:  Where’d he even get that sledgehammer?

~~~

(The next morning, Mike wakes up in his parents’ bed with Minnie. He makes his way out to the living room, carefully stepping over bikers and strippers, only to find the Christmas tree on its side and a motorcycle leaking oil in the center of the room…)

Mike:  (sighs)  Merry Christmas, everybody.

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