Time me!
- Started
- Last post
- 97 Responses
- ********0
stay tuned im typing up the story
- ********0
So there I was in my boxers, gently fapping a rubbery one all the while clicking googley-eyed on the QBN chick of the day thread, when I realized it was high time to hit the old dusty bus route to work. Not one to let a chubby go to waste, I tried "roughing" it but I didn't have enough time... I had to get on the road.
I took a quick glance at the dishes piling up in the sink. One or two ephemeral flies darting about over it. Slammed the door, chunka chunka chunka down the stairs bang zlip into the street hup! Too far almost get his by the landlord's parents in their huge pickup pulling out of the driveway.
Ipod in pocket, headphones, I'm pounding pavement up past the Citibank and across the treacherous Geary St. to the coffee shop for the stimulus. It's that coffee shop all the mongs form the local "home" go to... you might know it. Mexican chick with the pumped up face is all making conversation to them and in my head I'm screaming "Yeah I get it, youre the chick thats nice to mongs. Hurry up an get my coffee". One of them sort of freaks out a little bit cause I'm standing too close to him and then starts patting his own hair.
Cut to the bus stop. Theres some chich there with bug eyes that just refuse to blink. I mean I was totally expecting her flap to pop open and lick a bug from the bus shelter wall if I wasn't so preoccupied with vision-snatching gravity of her massive cleavage. It was like she trained two pigs to stay quiet under her jacket.
crap my brother is here, and I have to go for a beer.sorry. Ill be back later.
- I have no idea what "roughing" it is, or what a "mong" is.TheBlueOne
- mong-oloid
roughing it = speed fapping with disregard to friction******** - thank you for the clarification.TheBlueOne
- kingjulien?_salisae_
- Douglas0
tick tock tick tock...
- ********0
That was without a doubt the worst "go get a beer" event ever.
- TheBlueOne0
You sir, are off of my Christmas card list next year.
You had us all worried sick and all you can say is "Oh, I forgot about this..." and thenshoot soda pop out of your nose.
Well mister, that simply is not good enough. Not good enough at all.
- benfal990
this is the best story ever. We want the rest of the story CANNONBALL.
i deserve you the
- marychain0
sooooo...what abou the laser sharks then?
good story thus far
- Jaline0
I'm never touching cannon's iPod. I know where his hands have been.
- ********0
Tits. They were glorious. She must have been smuggling something.
Boy, it was cold out. The 38 limited pulls up, and a billion old chinese ladies get on and off, bottlenecking through the entrances. Finally I get on, and find my place beside an old guy that smells like he shit some chemicals into his diaper. It must have been the reason there was a place for me, everyone were keeping a wide berth of the old coot.
One stop. Two stops. Three stops. Four. The back door pops open and some asshole with the worlds largest backpack propels it into my coffee as he swings around and down the stairwell. Everything unfolds in slow motion.
The lid on my coffee placed on loosely due to the poor attentiveness of the mong loving beancounter detaches, and a mini tidal wave of scalding holiday peppermint latte splashes into the old mans face. He screams.
Doors open, and the whole crowd heave-ho me off and onto the curb. My empty coffee cup follows suit, lightly bonking me on the head as I lay sprawled out on the curb.
I get up, spin around, and flip open my trenchcoat, and unholster two double barrel automatic shotguns strapped to the sides of my legs.
"You just fucked with the wrong commuter, compadres."
I spit a loogie and start hammering the sides of the bus with buckshot. The but tries to make a break for it but it's slow, encumbered by idiots and running on a motor not designed for fast getaways. All the wheels on the right side of the buss blow out, sending everyone careening to one side. A kid with a gameboy comes crashing out the window.
"Please sir! I haven't saved the game yet!"
Too late. I level a barrel and turn his face into a hamburger.In the corner of my eye I see a glint. The escape hatch on the top of the bus pops off with a hiss, clattering on the ground, and jsut when I think the passengers are too stupid to make a brake for it, the side door swings open. It's the veteran in the wheelchair.
He opens up with a pair of saturday night special revolvers that he had hidden in his fanny pack, just for such an occasion. I duck behind a mailbox and plaster my back to it. Think cannonball! Think!
Down the street, a squad car fishtails around the corner, sirens a-screaming. Your hero, ole cannonball lunges out over revolver fire from the cripple clicking out shells from the cover of the bus. I duck into a roll and stand up straight, taking aim for the squadcar's radiator. The shotguns are spitting fire the moment I stand up.
"Come on you sonofa..."
Suddenly the squadcar detonates, and the blast sends the flaming wreckage flying over my and into the back of the bus, peeling off the flimsy sheet metal top with a loud crunch. Half the people in the back all pop arteries, but before any blood sprays, the bus itself explodes, jumping up and bucking in the air like a giant mechanical bull.
"Now... which of these coffee shops are going to service me before work...."
- benfal990
"Please sir! I haven't saved the game yet!"
you've reached the
are you on drugs?
- marychain0
I can't wait until next weeks episode
I'm hooked
- ********0
"Iced... espresso."
The barista looks at me, and his chin quivers.
"Sir, we don't put ice in our espresso. It ruins the flavor of the..."
Before he can finish his sentence I jam the barrel of my shotgun into his mouth, the metal clicking against his tooth enamel.
"Now, I want... an espresso... but I want it iced. It's hot out."
Tears well up in the corners of his eyes. I can see that his desire to keep his cerebral cortex is conflicting with pre-programmed store policy and his barista integrity.
An old lady pipes up from the line, "You leave him alone you monster!"
Without looking her way I blow a hole in her giant church hat with the other shotgun. Feathers spray out and all over the couple that were enjoying the wireless connection before I came in.
"Son, you have three seconds to flip the switch on that machine, or your buddy there will be toothbrushing your spine from the pour spout through the next week." I nod to the other barista.
"Ralph, just make him the goddamn iced espresso."
"Mutttt... sheresh no shush shing ash a ished eshpresshh..."
Click! The hammer slams down and I realize the barrel in the automatic shotgun is empty. Slightly confounded, I yank the barrel out of the barrista's mouth and fish around in my coat for more ammunition. Under his "Bean Universe" smock, I can see his knees are struggling to keep him standing, and a damp spot appears in the shoddy silkscreening of the cartoon coffee bean with the mickey mouse gloves.
"Oh God! Ohgodohgodohgod! Vince, I don't want to die!"
Vince grabs ralph by the collar and sits him down against the steel hermetically sealed refrigerator cabinet behind the counter.
"Okay! Okay Ralph just sit here I will deal with it."
When Vince turns to me I have a freshly loaded shotgun pointed at his dome.
"Let's start over shal we?"
Vince's eye twitches, and he stutters out his greeting, "W-welcome to Bean Universe, my name is Vince. I'll be helping you with your order today. Can I interest you in a sample of..."
Click. I thumb the hammer back.
"Oh... right. What can I get for you today?"
"I want an iced espresso."
I can see that vince is struggling with the order. He braces his hands against the counter and struggles to repeat the order.
"Iced... (twitch) espresso... (twitch)."
"That's right, chief."
"What size would you like, sir?"
"A big one."
"Sir we have Grandisimo, Moto Grandisimo and Extrimioso."
Vince points to the board behind him, still looking cross-eyed at the end of the barrel. Tacked to the cork menu are cut-out silhouettes of coffee cups, each with italian mumbo-jumbo scrawled in scripted flourish across them.
"A big one." I repeat. My answer registers with Vince and he gets to work, running the slurping espresso machine deftly. Before I know it, one teeming cup of espresso is before me atop a saucer.
"Vince," I say. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Sir, please... the flavor... I..." His eyes are watering up.
"The ice, Vince."
Nodding, he reaches into the hermetically sealed refrigerator and scoops out two well-formed ice cubes. Before plopping them in the cup, he looks to me once more, hoping, praying I might change my mind. No dice. The dice plop in, cracking and squeaking in the espresso as they float back to the surface.
"Now drink it." I say.
"Buh...bubbbbbbut..."
"Drink it." I repeat myself. I press the barrel into Vince's chest, bullying him.
Suddenly there is a glint in Vince's eye, and he looks past me. Before thinking I smash him in the face with the bitt of the gun and leap over the counter.
"POLICE! EVERYONE DROP TO THE FLOOR!"
An explosion of gunfire erupts over the screams of customers. I duck below the sheet metal counter and fire blindly over the top of it as bullets shatter the crockery and shelves above me. Shards of ceramic and glass rain down about me. I fire twice more and peer underneath the counter.
The fat guy on the rascal lost control of the motor and was accellerating across the shop, screaming and jerking the joystick futiley before knocking over a table with a laptop on it. Just beyond, I can see the line of SWAT officers behind their acrylic body shields stacking up behind the lip of the window, preparing to enter.
Then a canister comes clattering through the door. Grenade? Tear gas? It cracks open, and breakdances atop the tile floor as a vapor hisses forcefully out of the top of it. Shit! I need to get out! After emptying barrels several more times at the door, I hustle, arm over arm, and somersault into the managers office.
- ********0
"Keys."
"What?" The manager blubbers to me through his walrus mustache. I lock the door behind me an look about, taking th eroom in as fast as possible. A desk, computer, window, employee of the month plaque.
"Keys to your car. Which is it?"
Blam! I destroy the computer monitor with one shot to get his attention, and I jab the shotgun into his eye, leveling the other one to the door.
"It's the gray Crown Victoria... p-parked out back."
Nice, quick response. Certainly management material. I snatch his keys from him. Before barreling through the window I can hear the SWAT team marching through the store, customers coughing.
The Crown Vic is the only car out back. Behind me I can hear the manager screaming my escape route. I jump out the window, roll off the dumpster, and bee-line straight to my getaway car. Time to get to the office...
- boobs0
Don't stop now! I'm on the edge of my goddam seat here!
- ********0
anyone wanna continue this? I've got writer's block
