"I'm gonna make those dirty bastards pay for jumping me at that last Trump Flotilla! Especially that fat son of a bitch wearing the "Get cornholed by Jesus shirt! Sooner or later. It's gonna be payback time."
- Hot Karl Zimmler
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| Hot Karl Zimmler |
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| The local MAGA security force Captain who is suspected in the total asskickings of Hot Karl Zimmler and Luther "Scoop" Heggs. "He's gonna wish he had never fucked with the likes of me and Hot Karl," mumbled Luther "Scoop" Heggs, who was already so shitfaced he could hardly sit up in his beach chair, "Fucking Bible thumper." "He didn't thump your ass with a Bible, Scoop. If I recall he thumped it with Mary Trump's book." Hot Karl, Scoop, and myself were sitting way out on Johnson Beach so no tourist could spy us drinking gin & tonics and smoking big chunks of Black Hash in a tobacco pipe. Karl looked pretty much like he always did. Luther though, still looked like a gorilla had jumped out of a dumpster and beat the shit out of him! Local artist rendition of Luther before getting the crap pounded out of him.  And after (simulated).  "What scheme have you two asswipes got cooking now?" Luther suddenly bolted to his feet and made a mad dash to the sand dunes. "We're going to raise some hell for that Trump Boat parade on Labor Day and get some payback on these motherfuckers." I could hardly hear him over the sounds of Luther puking up his gin & tonics and whatever combination of booze and narcotics he had sucked down last night. It sounded like he was barfing up his toenails.   "Wait a second? Those Lysol sniffers are holding another one of the damn things? With Florida being one of the hardest hit states for the Corona virus?" "Hell yes! Half the country has shit for brains and in Florida about three-quarters. The dumb fucks are sending their kids back to school in a few weeks if you need an example. But we're planning on something bigly as the fascist who has his gigantic ass parked in the White House likes to say. Something that will hit the national news, go fucking viral, Goat!"  Luther staggered back from the dunes and sat down in his chair and fired up a heater and poured a glass of hair of the dog. He smelled like a vomit factory! Karl dug around in Luther's backpack and pulled out Scoop's mini-recorder and handed it to me. "You better wipe that fucking tape recorder down with Everclear before I touch it." Karl poured some gin over the recorder and wiped it down with his grimy t-shirt. He hit play and handed it to me. I held it between two fingers like it was packed with C-4. "I was hearing rumors about something big happening at this Trump Parade and I still have the taps running so I listened into a conversation with the Commissar and some higher up in the Land of the Great and Powerful Trump." "Sound intriguing." The heat and the sight and smell of Scoop were making me queasy so I took the recorder and walked down to the surf. 🕭🕭🕭🕭 Phone ringing. "Sir, Commissar speaking, Sir!" "My first question, Mr. Potato Head, is what the hell are you doing down there in the mosquito infested hellhole hovel that you call home? Working on your jug blowing?" "Sir, I was preparing my daily briefing to my constituents. I have a very large following who depend upon my leadership."   "I saw it already. When are you going to stop this whiny "I'm a Libertarian" shit? Just admit you follow the marching orders of DeSantis who gets his orders from his White House Holiness. DeSantis, who by the way, better quit acting like a retard in front of the press if he knows what's good for him...  ...and you need to quit putting out this drivel that no one believes anyway. Who the fuck do you think you are, Bill Nye - The Science Guy? Get your shit together! And quit quoting Fox News!" "Sir, what seems to be the problem, Sir?" "Quit calling me Sir. I'm not in the goddamn Navy. Call me Mr. Barr...  ...and the reason I'm calling is you were given one task and one task only and it appears you're shitting the bed on that one simple task." "Do you mean the left turn lane controversy at the Galvez Boat ramp?" "What? Jesus Christ on roller skates! And I thought DeSantis was challenged. No, dumbass! Stone! You were so supposed to keep him secluded and under wraps. He's running around Perdido Key like he's Mick Jagger...who I think should be deported. Him and that goddamn Tom Petty and Neil Young. I'm getting all sorts of fucking reports about that freak parading around down there like he's the lovechild of Liberace and J. Edgar Hoover."     "I'll admit, Mr. Barr, he can be quite the rascal but I assure you everything here is shipshape! My adjutant has everything squared away." "No, not everything is shipshape, Mr. Roberts! What about that dipshit giving that interview? That went over like a wet bean and beer shart in church!"  "On me, totally, Mr. B. I didn...." "What in the name of hell did you call me, you backwoods turd!" He shrieked! "I meant Mr. Barr, Sir! And Roger somehow got his hands on a phone and gave that interview without my knowledge. His personal phone was confiscated before they dropped him off here." You could hear Barr whispering and muttering to someone in the background...the word "loser" was heavily peppered throughout the conversation. "Mr. Barr?" "Now you listen to me and I don't want to hear another word out of your cock holster. The Man himself wants the The Man of La Mancha to be the Grand Marshall of the Labor Day Trump Parade and it's your job to keep his scrawny naked ass under wraps until then. Do not, I repeat, do not fuck this up! Expect a package from Trump's brain dead...  ...daughter for the raffle in two days. The Prez is going to "autograph" it himself and wants to Stone to present it!" CLICK👌 "And your master plan being what?" I was sweaty, hot, stoned,and drunk and I was craving a air conditioned bar with a kindly waitress sporting big jugs and cold draft beers, so I started packing up. A little of Karl and Luther can go a long way, especially on a hot day. The combination was like the smell of a dumpster behind a strip club! Karl looked over at Luther who was passed out cold. His head hanging all the way back and a string of thick drool ran from his mouth to the sand. He was drunk as two longshoreman and it was barely noon. "I've got tracers set up with all major delivery services. I'll know when that package gets in the area. I'm going to steal that dildo and hold it fucking hostage. Those MAGAs want it back, they're gonna pay big dineros. I'm going to get all the major press involved." "And when you get out of of Leavenworth you"ll have an asshole as big as a silver dollar unless they pull an Epstein on you." Дерьмо в твоей шляпе SWG сатира  |
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