Fit-Shaced

by Ambrosia

ACT I

The place: my house.

The time: 9-ish.

The characters: Jake, Joe, Ambrosia (me).

The plot: 3 guys, bored and horny - WAIT - STOP RIGHT THERE, the plot just took an unexpected twist, let's start again.

3 guys are sitting around bored, what to do?

Jake: Hey, let's go pick up some beer and rent a movie.

Joe: Sure.

Ambrosia: (I have no job and no school and nothing to do) Okay. Get me a 40 of something cheap, wait, I can't finish a 40 right now, get me something smaller.

Jake and Joe exit, 30 minutes pass, they return, multiple bags in hand and apparently 2 movies, cool. In the meantime, Ambrosia had watched one of the funniest sitcoms on tv right now, and the most underrated, this show is a notch above the greats when it comes to writing. Unhesitatingly greater than or equal to the likes of Seinfeld, Frasier, Friends, Home Improvement, and the Simpsons. Well, the Simpsons are damn good, so lets not get carried away. The show is, of course: NEWS RADIO and it is funnier than a ball of shit in your milk! It stars David Foley, whose previous membership as a Kid in the Hall automatically makes him a comic genius superior to any alive today (hyperbole for emphasis), Phil Hartman whose talent goes without saying, and others. This show rocks!!! 9:30 after Frasier.

Ambrosia: What did you guys get?

Jake displays a sixer of Michelob "White Trash", a sixer of King Cobra 14 oz "Black Trash", Joe's sixer of Guinness Extra Stout, the maple syrup of beer, so bitter that there is a warning on the label not to drink the last sip, a 20 oz of Becks for Joe, a 20 oz of Colt 45 Double Malt for Jake, and finally, my Ice 800 22 ouncer.

Ambrosia: Nice, hey 2 movies, Rumble in the Bronx and Best of Eddie Murphy on SNL, nice.


ACT II

We get to work, but Ambrosia, figuring he'll only be drinking 22 oz of beer thinks: I'll just have a shot of Tequila (thank you Love Dungeon) to "enhance the buzz".

Looking for a shot glass, Ambrosia finds none downstairs. Due to over-exertion the day before in strength shoes, he can no longer climb stairs without exerting an effort roughly to what was necessary to erect the Egyptian Sphinx. Ambrosia gets creative, ah, a small clear glass, I'll just put in about a shots worth.

Ambrosia toasts to the fellas with the Cuervo but before he drinks,

Jake and Joe: Holy shit, that's a huge shot.

It was well over three shots of tequila that slid down Ambrosia's esophagus in an uncommonly smooth fashion (thanks Love Dungeon) and then took an abrupt U-turn and headed straight for his motor cortex.

With the tape in, and Eddie Murphy's humor supplemented by BAC's of well over the legal limit even in Germany, Ambrosia, Jake, and Joe laugh hysterically as Eddie, looking like a white man says "What a silly negro!"

The three men finish their half 40s each but one of them notices that he is substantially more fucked up than the rest.

Ambrosia: Fuck Jake, I am so faded.

Jake (red and laughing): You finished that whole 22, it was 8% alcohol by volume, like drinking 22 oz of Schnapps or Triple Sec, ours are only 5%.

Joe: Hahahahahahahahahaha

Ambrosia: Hahahahahahahahahahaha (sly fucker) hahahahahahahahahaha

Jake: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Ambrosia: Welp, now that I'm fucked up, I feel I have the courage to try that Guinness Extra Stout, can I have some Joe?

Joe: Sure, watch the waves it leaves on your glass as you pour it, like flipping over a bottle of maple syrup!

Ambrosia: Wow (tastes beer, makes bitter-beer-face) woah!

By the time Eddie is finished, Ambrosia and Joe chug down the rest of their Guinnesses with noticeably less wincing while Jake finishes 14 ounces (extra large can) of Cobra.

As Joe puts Rumble in the Bronx into VCR, Ambrosia begins to pimp stride and dance to the bathroom. His rhythm, at this point, has improved substantially, in his opinion.

Jake gives Ambrosia a King Cobra.

In a moment of heroism, Ambrosia attempts a daredevil feat only surpassed by Robby Kneival, he shows Jake and Joe that if you stand behind a couch, lean over head first and jump, you will do a somersault over and onto the couch and land on your ass just in front of it. Jake and Joe watch intently as Ambrosia bends over, puts his head in the cushions, jumps and tips the whole couch back onto himself.

Jake: Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Joe: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Ambrosia: Hahaha What the fuck, oh shit, it didn't work, I tipped the couch on myself, hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

At this point, Ambrosia can no longer stand and is comfortable laying beside the overturned couch. Jake, in tribute to Ambrosia's performance, moves the coffee table out of the way and tips over the other couch.

Ambrosia: What the fuck are you doing, you faded bastard?

All: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha


ACT III

Joe: Hey, Ambrosia, let's call Mayra! What's her number?

Ambrosia, aware that this is trouble: 564-A91AZ71uuuggh (this is not Mayra's number but a clever ploy to fool Joe). Joe is not fooled, for Joe is not quite as faded. Compared to Ambrosia and Jake, Joe is a designated driver.

Joe runs upstairs.

Ambrosia: Oh fuck.

Joe returns talking into Ambrosia's phone, gives phone to Ambrosia.

Ambrosia: No, fucking Joe, you bastard, I can't talk to her right-hi Mayra. I am so faded.

As Ambrosia re-tells his couch flipping performance, Joe, in an effort to show that he is indeed fucked up, walks up to Jake and delivers an open-hand slap to his head. Jake's hat goes flying. All three are shocked at the force of the blow.

Jake: Fucker...hahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Joe (relieved): hahahahahaha

Ambrosia: Mayra, Joe just hit the shit out of Jake, hahahahahahhahaha

Ambrosia proceeds to tell Mayra how fucked up he is, how he's now consumed 3 ozs of Tequila, 22 ozs of 8% malt liquor and 26 ozs of beer (Guinness and Cobra). Remember, this guy did not want a 40, it was too much, he said. After going into embarassingly explicit detail about his level of horniness, Ambrosia apologizes and hangs up.

Joe has somehow managed to make chicken noodle soup and is eating it.

Climbing over the couch, Ambrosia finishes the Cobra as Jackie Chan prepares for a police sting that will eventually nab White Tiger. Ambrosia can no longer see the TV, but his hearing is just fine. This is what he hears:

Jake: Let's do shots, I need a shot glass.

Joe: OK.

Ambrosia: I have shot, my room, closet, left, ugggh.

Ambrosia is beginning to feel nausea. He decides that although it seems strange even to him, he will feel much better if he could just get under the coffee table where its shady.

Ambrosia: Where's Jake?

Joe: He's been gone a while!

Jake returns with a shot glass after 20 minutes.

Jake: Fuck, I fell asleep on your bean bag....

All: Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Jake: ...and drooled all over it!

Jake and Joe: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

As Ambrosia's nausea intensifies, he decides he should get out from under the table in case he needs to run to the bathroom. Jake and Joe do shots while Ambrosia struggles to escape. It is harder to get out than it had been to get in, but he succeeds and is rewarded with a shot.

Ambrosia: Fuck Jake (sipping) I can't.

Joe decides that now, with Jake sufficiently faded, it would be a good idea to call Marissa, Jake's girlfriend. Ambrosia begins to suspect that Joe is the Antichrist.

Marissa is 24 and good humored, she laughs heartily. Furthermore, she has the powerful giggle that makes other people laugh. Ironically, Jake does not embarrass himself as Ambrosia had to Mayra. Instead, Jake describes to Marissa how fucked up Ambrosia is! Then he hands Ambrosia the phone.

Ambrosia: Hi, I am so fucked up.

Suddenly, Jake picks up Joe for reasons unexplained (or misunderstood) and drops him onto Ambrosia. Ambrosia winces as his ribs make creaking sounds. This probably hurts, he thinks. Jake explains that Joe was throwing beer at him and he felt compelled to fight back by dropping him on Ambrosia. Marissa laughs heartily.

Ambrosia talks for a bit than hangs up. He has no recollection of what he said. His only comfort is found in burying his face in the nook between the couch and the carpet. Eventually, Jake stumbles upstairs to shower, he has work tomorrow, it is 3am. Ambrosia is blissfully unaware.

Finally, Ambrosia gets upstairs, somehow, crawling and drooling on them as he progresses. His nausea keeps him from sleeping but he does not get sick, the champion! At 4am, he awakes to make potty and hears people downstairs watching TV and or playing Street Fighter II. He does not care. He goes to sleep.

THE END


BACK