I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell Page #7

Are you in pink armor?

I hate it when men

randomly bash women.

It's like this pathetic defense mechanism

you guys put up...

when you know you're attracted

to a woman who might not be into you.

-That's not-- That's not true.

-Yes, it is.

It's so much easier

to call a girl a whore...

than it is to admit to yourself

she's out of your league.

That is some whore logic

if I've ever heard it.

Anyone is capable

of being a whore, Drew.

Being a woman

doesn't de facto make you one.

It does if you're

a cum-guzzling demon slut.

Fine.

But your ex is only representative of herself,

not her whole gender.

Her actions don't make me a whore

simply because we're both women.

Did you cheat?

No.

If you ever wanna find love again

you're gonna have to get over...

these childish notions that you have.

If you don't...

your personal life will remain the

steaming pile of sh*t that it is now.

Game over. Killing frenzy.

Motherf***er.

You're the pink mist.

If I kiss you, will you shut up already?

-Are you okay?

-Yeah, I'm okay.

Where am I?

Drunk tank, se.

That's disgusting.

I hope that wasn't one of you guys.

F***. Can I make a call, man?

Sorry.

-Operator.

-Yeah, hi.

I need to make a collect call...

to 323-351-7640.

State your name after the beep.

It's Dan.

-Operator.

-Yeah.

Can you try...

State your name after the beep.

Dan.

Son of a b*tch, where the hell are you?

-I'm right here, sir.

-No, not you.

Look, can you just try one more?

Can you try...

State your name after the beep.

What the f***? Are you f***ing with me?

It's Dan, just dial the f***ing phone

so I don't spend the last of my days in--

F***!

-What?

-This is the Salem City...

-Jail Operator with a collect call from:

-Are you f***ing with me?

It's Dan, dial the f***ing phone

so I don't spend the last of my days--

-F***.

-Daniel?

Jesus. Mrs. Jorgens?

What's going on?

Can you get Kristy for me?

No, I cannot. Where are you?

I'm in jail.

-What a shock.

-Mom, is that Dan?

F***.

-Hey.

-Dude, how did it go?

-Everything good?

-Of course.

-What did you think was gonna happen?

-What do I think?

Get away! Mommy! No!

Get away! No! Mommy!

That's ridiculous.

I already have all those toys.

Hey, Jack.

Hey. Hey.

-Where's my 200 bucks?

-You mean my 200 bucks?

Yeah, she's good.

Nice, well played.

Hey.

You can have this.

Thanks, Jack.

Hey, you know what?

I want you to have this.

A GI Bob keychain.

Bob was the commander for

the soldiers that went to battle.

He was my favorite when I was your age.

You gotta promise me one thing, though.

You take care of all your soldiers

just like Bob.

-Especially your mom.

-I promise.

All right.

-I'll call you when I get home.

-Okay.

Keep working on your ambushes, buddy.

Bye, Drew.

Did you just give your Bob keychain

to a whore baby?

She's not a whore.

Okay.

Here you go, man.

I got you one of these suckers.

Where's Dan?

Holy sh*t.

Jesus Christ, man.

What the f*** happened to you?

Let's f***ing go.

Dude, you are not gonna believe

what happened to me.

You know the feeling you get

when you're looking for that someone...

and you are trying so hard

you think you might never find her?

And then,

just as you're about to give up...

the clouds part, the path widens,

and there she is.

Gentlemen, last night

I reached the mountaintop.

Drew, you had just left the bar

when I saw her.

My midget princess.

Her dark hair and sparkling eyes

reminded me of Alyssa Milano.

Her compressed cervical vertebrae

and bowed legs...

told me exactly what

Alyssa Milano would look like...

if she were placed in a vise

and squished to one-quarter size.

So as her pigeon-toed feet

carried her past our table...

I slid down in my chair,

hoping to catch her eye.

She looked at me.

Her mashed-up teeth...

sparkling in the oily light

of the novelty condom machine.

I gave her my unmistakable

I-want-to-f***-you eyes.

She shot back a quick

my-spine-hurts face, and I was smitten.

She went to the bar, ordered a drink.

I took the stool next to hers.

Hey, I'm Gulliver. How are you doing?

The beer bottle looked massive

in her tiny little hands.

All I could think about was how big

those hands would make my penis look.

-She ate it up.

-I'm not a dwarf, I'm a little person.

Is that what Doc told you, Grumpy?

She laughed her tiny little laugh

at my tiny little jokes...

and then threw me a fastball

down the middle.

So, what do you want to do?

It was the tiny little opening I needed.

I wanna make a mess in your mouth.

-Let's go to my place, then.

-Okay.

Just to be safe, leave the pickax here.

I don't want you tunneling under the bed,

looking for diamonds. It'll freak me out.

Without a tiny little second thought,

she swung down from the stool...

took my pinky in her sausage fingers

and guided me out the door.

Wait.

You mean to tell me

that I have this and this...

because you wanted to f*** an

Oompa Loompa, are you serious?

Dude, it was destiny.

You remember?

The midget stripper the professor

was talking about in class yesterday.

I went on Westlaw...

and found out where she worked

before I picked up Drew.

You've never been

to that strip club before?

No. I mean, not until last time.

Holy sh*t.

That's why you took us

to that crappy bar.

That's why you had me call information

to find out where the club was.

Yes.

-The bachelor party was just a f***ing ruse?

-Dan, Dan, Dan.

How many people do you know

who have f***ed a midget?

-You don't think that's awesome?

-Are you f***ing kidding me?

Here you go. Keep it down?

Watch your language.

I might not have a fiance anymore

because you dragged me into a lie...

that I didn't want or f***ing

need to be a part of.

Now I have to go back to Richmond

and beg her for her forgiveness...

and plead with her

not to cancel the wedding...

that we have been planning

for 2 f***ing years, Tucker.

I--

And what am I gonna do

when I get there?

Look at my f***ing face, man.

I look like I've been on the wrong end

of a prison beating because I f***ing have.

Dude.

Let me finish my story.

It's not always about you.

-Dan, Dan, Dan!

-About me?

-Come on, come on.

-My God.

-Jesus.

-Get off of me!

-Dude. It was a midget.

-Hey, hey, hey!

Right now, if I were Tucker,

I would shut the f*** up.

-I will tell you one thing--

-I don't wanna hear it, Mom.

I don't wanna hear it.

No good Baptist would be caught dead

drinking to excess...

or getting arrested

for causing a ruckus.

Of course not,

good Baptists don't get caught.

That's right.

They just sit in judgment of others...

refusing to help them

when they need it the most.

Don't you get smart with me,

young lady.

It is not my fault that you decided

to fall in love with some...

-fair-weather Protestant.

-My God.

Ordaining women.

-And marrying the homosexuals.

-Mother!

Well, it's true.

A religion with all of the spirituality

and none of the guilt?

Please.

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