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Three Assholes – Episode 113

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 01/17/2012

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

Episode 113 – Time To Get Jailed

Judge:  The Town of Freeport hereby sentences you to a year in prison for the crime of loitering in a desert.

Keith:  (scowling)  Objection!

Rollings:  (leans over, whispers)  You can’t do that.

Keith:  Fine. Then you yell it.

Rollings:  (pats Keith on the back)  Sorry, Keith. I lawyered as hard as I could. Time to pay the piper.

Keith:  Are you the piper? ‘Cause I ain’t payin’ you shit.

(Mike and Nate are in the front row of the gallery…)

Nate:  Tough break, buddy.

Mike:  Guess we’ll see you in a year, Keith. Stay strong.  (black power salute, for some reason)

Keith:  (sighs)  I’ll be fine, you guys. Just wish I could serve in Veazie Jail. At least in there, half the inmates are guys we grew up with.

Rollings:  Can’t win ’em all.

Nate:  Do you win any of them, Rick?

Mike:  Maybe it’s time we start looking into getting a new lawyer.

Rollings:  But you guys are like my only clients!

Nate:  Well, maybe we should take that as a bad sign.

Mike:  Always judge someone by the company they keep.

Nate:  And we are some pretty lousy company.

Mike:  Ain’t that the truth.

Rollings:  You guys are really ruining my Friday.

Nate:  It’s Tuesday.

Rollings:  Yeah, but I have nothing scheduled for the rest of the week; so it’s basically my Friday.

Mike:  You keep a schedule?

Rollings:  I’ve thought about it.

Nate:  You’re fired, Rick.

Rollings:  (pouts)  You guys really are assholes.

Keith:  (being led away in shackles)  AVENGE ME!

~~~

(Nate and Mike are exiting the Freeport Courthouse when they’re intercepted by a man in full Army regalia…)

Dilsner:  PFC Michael Miner, I am Col. Phillip L. Dilsner and I am here to escort you down to Camp King in South Carolina for your court martial for going AWOL a year ago in Iraq. If you—OW MY BALLS!

(Nate removes his foot from the Colonel’s crotch…)

Mike:  Whoa, dude.

Nate:  Run!

(Mike and Nate take off down the street as the Colonel crumples to the ground and shouts after them through clenched teeth…)

Dilsner:  You can’t run from the Army forever, boy! We’re everywhere! Even Canada!

~~~

(The two assholes duck into an alleyway behind a My Maine Bag shop to collect their breath…)

Mike:  Can’t believe you kicked that Colonel in the balls, Nate. Clutch move.

Nate:  If Keith was with us right now he’d probably say, “More like ‘crotch move’.”

Mike:  Yeah, he was always so unfunny. I still miss him, though. But seriously, that Colonel’s gonna be really pissed.

Nate:  I already lost one friend today. I’m not about to lose both.

Mike:  You talkin’ about Rick, our lawyer? Because I always saw him as more of an acquaintance.

Nate:  No, you idiot. Keith, our friend who just went to prison for a year.

Mike:  Oh yeah, real bummer.

Nate:  We’ve gotta find somewhere to stash you.

Mike:  (fishes in back pocket)  Okay. But just in case he does find me, can you hold my gun? I don’t think I’m s’posed to still have this.

Nate:  (pockets pistol)  Now where would an Army Colonel never dare to look?

~~~

(At a nearby Freeport gay bar…)

Mike:  My God, this music is deafening. How do the gays dance to this? And why is it so packed in here? It’s noon on a Tuesday.

Nate:  Lunch hour rush, I guess. Kinda like Diva’s.

Mike:  Oh, Minnie. Maybe I should call her, tell her I’m alright.

Nate:  They might have the phones tapped.

Mike:  In a Freeport gay bar?

Nate:  You heard the Colonel. The Army’s everywhere. Even in Canada! Canada, Mikey!

Mike:  Calm down. We just gotta think.

Nate:  Some drugs would help the thinking process. Can’t believe neither of us is holding. And Freeport’s always dry as a bone.

Mike:  Gay bar drinks?

Nate:  Gay bar drinks.

~~~

(Hours later, Mike and Nate are plastered…)

Mike:  How have we been here for this long and none of these dudes are macking on us?

Nate:  Maybe they think we’re a couple.

Mike:  A couple of ugly losers.

Nate:  Now don’t say that, Mike. You’re a beautiful man.

Mike:  I know that, Nate. You know I know that. But all that beauty is on the inside. On the outside I’m just a chubby slob on the run from an Army court-martial.

Jeff:  (overhearing)  You’re being court-martialed? Unbelievable. The Army’s finally gone too far. Richie, do you hear this? This poor soul’s being court-martialed by the Army for being gay!

Richie:  Those monsters!

Mike:  Oh no, I’m being court-martialed ’cause I went AWOL.

Nate:  (chuckling)  Yeah, he’s a huge pussy.

Mike:  Shut up, Nate.

Jeff:  You two are so cute.  (climbing up on the bar)  Men! Are we gonna let the Army make a martyr out of our brother, Mike?

Gay Bar Patrons:  NO!

Jeff:  (resting a hand on Mike’s shoulder)  You’ve got every gay man in the greater Freeport area behind your back, Michael.

Mike:  (turning to Nate)  Well, I guess that can’t hurt.

Nate:  (shrugs) The more the merrier.

Jeff:  Great. Now let’s dance!

~~~

(After an hour of hardcore raving, Mike and Nate straggle back to the bar for more drinks…)

Mike:  Think I pulled something.

Nate:  Think somebody else pulled something of mine.

Dilsner:  PFC MINER.

(Col. Dilsner stands at the door as every man in the bar rushes to stand in front of the two assholes…)

Jeff:  You’re not taking our soldier, you awful man!

Dilsner:  Get out of my way, you fruitcake.

Jeff:  No! Men, Krav Maga stances!

Dilsner:  What is this, a dance routine?

Jeff:  Court-martialing a gay man will put you on every front page in America, Mr. Army Man. Even in the states that hate us!

Dilsner:  Are you serious? PFC Miner isn’t a gay man. He is a straight man who ran away from a war. Did he tell you he was a gay?

(The entire bar turns to Mike, sporting a sheepish grin…)

Mike:  Well…I didn’t tell them I was not gay.

Jeff:  You lied to us, Michael?

Mike:  I bent the truth. Still though, the Army. Bad! Grrrr! Fight The Man and stuff!

Jeff:  Take him away, Colonel.

Dilsner:  Gladly.

(The Colonel handcuffs Mike…)

Nate:  How’d you even find us here, Colonel?

Dilsner:  Your friend Rollings told me you’d be here.

(Mike and Nate see Rick poke his head out from behind the Colonel…)

Rick:  I just said it as a joke to get him off my back, guys. I didn’t think you’d actually be here. Something you’re not telling me?

Nate:  Yeah. That you’re fired again.

Mike:  Guess this is so long, Nate. Say hi to Keith for me when you visit.

Nate:  No. I’m not losing two friends in one day. Who will I hang out with, the guys at the dam? They’re so boring!

Mike:  That one guy with the pet monkey seems cool.

Nate:  That’s his daughter. She has a skin condition. And he sucks.

Mike:  Oh.

Nate:  I can’t let this happen.  (draws Mike’s gun)

Mike:  Whoa, Nate.

Dilsner:  Easy there, son. Think about what you’re doin’ here.

Nate:  They can’t send you back to Iraq if you’re not fit for duty!

Mike:  No, Nate! The war’s ov—AHH FUCK MY FOOT.

Dilsner:  Now you know how my balls feel. Sheriff, arrest this man.

(Sheriff Ford grins and cuffs Nate…)

Sheriff:  Hello, Shoops.

Nate:  Hey, Sheriff. Sorry about your foot, Mike.

Mike:  (cringing)  Shot zero times in Iraq; twice in Maine after one year back.

Nate:  See you in a year, I guess.

Mike:  (limps away with Colonel Dilsner)  See you in a year, bud.

~~~

(The door to Keith’s jail cell opens and Nate walks in and plops down next to his old friend…)

Keith:  Hey, man.

Nate:  Hey.

Keith:  Toilet wine?

Nate:  (smiles)  Sure thing, buddy. Hey, did you know the war’s over?

Keith:  (stirring toilet wine)  No shit.

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