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Three Assholes – Episode 112

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 01/11/2012

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

Episode 112 – Flu And Blue

Nate:  (vomits up phlegm)  Ughhh.

(There’s a knock at the door to Nate’s Veazie apartment, before Mike and Keith finally kick it in. They find Nate keeled over his bed, drenched in sweat…)

Keith:  Nate, we were knocking at your door for nearly ten seconds. What’s going on here? Get out of bed, lazy bones.

Nate:  I don’t feel so good. Think I’ve got a cold.

Mike:  That’s all? We’ve got a cure for that.

Nate:  Pretty sure you don’t. Ever heard of the phrase, “Cure for the common cold”?

Keith:  That’s just an old wives’ tale. We’ve got a surefire cure. But you won’t hear that from our friends at the FDA.

Nate:  How’s that?

Mike:  Well, the ingredients are a little…illegal.

Nate:  Whatever. I’ll try anything. I can’t afford to miss another day of work.

Keith:  Oh, and sorry about your door.

Nate:  What happened to my door?

Keith:  Haha nothing, bub.


(Mike and Keith are bustling around Nate’s kitchen in lab coats with pots bubbling as Nate staggers to the couch…)

Nate:  Where’d you guys get those lab coats?

Keith:  Science!

Nate:  Oh.

Mike:  Now Nate, we’re gonna need to know if your family has a history of heart conditions.

Nate:  I don’t think so. Hey, did you guys kick my door in?

Keith:  That was like that when we got here.

Mike:  Drink this.

(Mike hands Nate a beaker of bubbly green liquid…)

Nate:  What is it?

Mike:  Go ahead. Drink up.

Nate:  What’s in it, though?

Mike:  Um…science?

Nate:  I need to know what’s in this. I might be allergic.

Keith:  (grabs the beaker)  Bottoms up!

(Mike holds Nate down while Keith forces the drink down his throat…)

Nate:  (coughs, sputters)  You sons of bitches! What was…..whoa.

Keith:  Just relax, bub. Let the medicine take you away.

Nate:  (groggily trying to keep his eyes open)  You guys are…assho…


(Nate wakes up on a sandy street under the hot sun. He sees Mike and Keith nearby in turbans…)

Nate:  Where am I? Why are you wearing turbans? Where are your lab coats?

Keith:  Whoa, that’s a lot of questions for an Iranian arms dealer.

Nate:  What?

Mike:  Do you have the enriched uranium?

Nate:  How did we get to Iran?

Mike:  Do you have the uranium, or not?

Nate:  What uranium?

Keith:  You’re gonna wanna give my buddy al-Mike the uranium, bub. He was in the Army.

Nate:  Yeah, I know. He went AWOL.

Keith:  (chortles)  AWOL? From the Iranian Revolutionary Guard? I don’t think so, crazy bones.

Mike:  Going AWOL from Iranian Army is grounds for beheading.

Keith:  They’ll cut your head clean off. I’ve seen it.

Nate:  I don’t really know what’s happening right now. You guys gave me something.

Keith:  Yeah. We gave you three million dollars for a vial of enriched uranium so we can blow shit up, Iran-style. And all you’re givin’ us in return is the old runaround.

Mike:  al-Mike does not like runaround.

Keith:  See? Now you’ve got him speaking in third person. You see what you’ve done?

Nate:  Is three million even a good price for enriched uranium?

Keith:  Seems reasonable to me. Now hand it over, chump.

Nate:  Hold on, I’ve gotta think. Last thing I remember, I was in my apartment in Veazie.

Mike:  What is this “Veazie” you speak of?

Nate:  It’s in Maine. In the US, where we live.

Keith:  (whispering to al-Mike)  Sounds like somebody had a little too much Iranian wine last night.

Mike:  (Iranian chuckles)

Keith:  (Iranian chortles)  Oh, Iranian us.

(The three men are suddenly surrounded by a squadron of Navy SEALs…)

SEAL Captain:  On the ground!

Nate:  Yes! Americans! Please help. I’ve been kidnapped and transported to Iran, I think.

SEAL Captain:  (chuckling)  Nice try, buddy. We’ve been tracking you fellas for weeks. You’re coming with us.

Keith:  Iranian dammit!


(In a basement holding cell in the desert, Nate is tied to a chair and being beaten with a rubber hose…)

CIA Agent #1:  Where is the uranium?

Nate:  Ow! I dunno! Are you literally beating me with a rubber hose?

CIA Agent #1:  Enough of your Iranian mumbo-jumbo! Speak English! Where is the uranium?

Nate:  I am speaking English! And I don’t know!

CIA Agent #2:  Maybe the uranium’s inside him.

CIA Agent #1:  You’re right. We better cut him open.


(Nate wakes up in a pile of snow in nothing but his briefs and feels a sharp pain in his stomach. He looks down to see a raccoon gnawing on his belly. He shivers violently as he smacks the raccoon…)

Nate:  Git!

Raccoon:  (hisses, scurries)

Nate:  (passes back out)


(Nate wakes up in a hospital bed that evening with Keith and Mike by his side…)

Nate:  Where am I now? Back in Iran?

Keith:  No, buddy. You’re in EMMC in Bangor. You got pneumonia.

Nate:  That’s worse than a cold, right?

Mike:  There were complications with your treatment.

Keith:  You ran outside in your underwear, yelling something about uranium.

Nate:  What did you give me, anyway?

Keith:  A concentrated dose of LSD and PCP.

Mike:  We call it LSDCP. Usually does the trick whenever we get the sniffles.

Keith:  Also, the doctor said you’re gonna have to lose a couple toes due to frostbite; and that raccoon definitely had rabies.

Nate:  (turns up opiate drip)  You guys are assholes.

Keith:  (pats Nate on the head as he fades away)  We all are, buddy. We all are.

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