South Park Fan Fiction: Cartman Chokes a Chicken (Part 1)
Warning: Strong language and adult situations.
SYNOPSIS: Cartman gets busted trying to kill his neighbor’s rooster while Randy tries to institute a global ban on porn, hilarity ensues.
Special Guest Stars: Towelie, ManBearPig, Al Gore, Jenna Jameson, Dr. Phil, Judge Judy, Dr. Joyce Brothers, Perry Mason, Paul Rubens, the Raisins, Terrance & Phillip, Satan, Jesus, and introducing Radcliff the Rooster.
Roll video, start theme music, and begin South Park intro!
A tribute to the beginning of the movie Fight Club. Extreme close up. The camera starts at the cellular level and slowly pulls back revealing rapidly flowing blood. Hard driving music plays loudly.
CARTMAN: (Narration) This is your life as it’s ending, one second at a time.
Camera continues to pull back, now coming through bone and tissue.
CARTMAN: On a long enough time line, we’re all going straight to hell!
Camera keeps pulling back from a bead of sweat, easing out to reveal Cartman’s right eyeball.
CARTMAN: With gigantic red balls in your face, you only speak in vowels.
Ultimately, we see Cartman’s face covered by a massive red blob. He’s lying on a nicely carpeted floor, somewhere, struggling to breathe.
Late evening. Wide-angle view of Butter’s home.
Close up of Butters sleeping. He’s singing to himself while he dreams.
Cut to Butter’s dream.
Butters is dancing in a circle full of Hello Kitty cats. Magical rainbows are all around as well as unicorns and tap-dancing giraffes.
BUTTERS: Wow, this is the best time ever!
Cartman joins in the circle and holds hands with some cute kittens.
CARTMAN: Hi Butters, I didn’t know I could have so much fun on such a fantastic day! You are an amazing person.
BUTTERS: Geez, thanks Eric, I’m so glad you could attend.
Cartman kicks the kittens.
BUTTERS: Eric, no! Don’t you do it!
Butters frantically tries to catch the kittens that Cartman kicks in the air.
Cut to close up of Cartman.
CARTMAN: These kitties are so nice…to eat!
Eric grabs two kittens and angles them towards his mouth smiling evilly.
BUTTERS: No Eric! No!
Butters wakes up.
BUTTERS: Thank hamburgers and french fries that was only a dream!
Butters gets up to go to the bathroom singing “We are the World” to himself. As he walks out of his room into the hallway, he suddenly hears something odd.
BUTTERS: Mom? Dad?
Butters walks down the dark hallway to his parent’s room.
Camera zooms in on his parent’s door. Suspense music plays.
Cut to Butter’s hand slowly opening the door.
Close up of Butter’s shocked face.
BUTTERS: Mom! Dad!
Close up of Butter’s parents preparing to have some kinky sex. Ms. Stotch is dressed as a priest, while Mr. Stotch is dressed as an altar boy and is seeking forgiveness. They both quickly look over at Butters, jaws drop.
Early morning. Wide angle view of Cartman’s house. Sun slowly starting to rise.
Close up of Eric Cartman tossing and turning. A rooster crows in the background. The crowing gets louder and louder.
CARTMAN: God-damned rooster! Shut the fuck up!
Rooster crows again only louder. Cartman puts his pillow over his head and tries to sleep.
Morning. Wide angle view of the bus stop. Stan, Kenny, and Kyle stand quietly. Cartman grumbles as he walks up, looking very tired.
CARTMAN: Did anyone else hear that fucking rooster last night?
ALL THREE: No.
KENNY: (Mumbling) What fucking rooster?
CARTMAN: My god-damned neighbor’s rooster. It was crowing like it had a raging hemorrhoid. I couldn’t get any sleep. I really want to kill that fucking loud-ass thing!
KYLE: You should do what my cousins do to seagulls on the beach.
CARTMAN: And what could that be Kyle?
KYLE: They throw Alka Seltzers to them. After the sea gulls eat the Alka Seltzers, they explode.
CARTMAN: Ha, ha! Really? Ha, ha, ha! That’s it; I’m going to make that fucking screaming rooster explode!
Noon. School lunchroom. Kenny, Kyle, Stan, Cartman, Jimmy, and Butters eat their lunch together at the same table.
STAN: Hey Butters, aren’t you going to eat anything?
BUTTERS: Geez fellas, I really can’t.
CARTMAN: Then give me your food.
Cartman grabs Butter’s bag of chips.
KYLE: Why can’t you eat?
BUTTERS: Because, I, uh, I’m not feeling too well, fellas, on account of seeing my parents fornicating last night.
KYLE: I thought your dad liked men.
BUTTERS: Well, that’s what I thought too. Come to find out my mom bought something called the Anal Probe 3000.
EVERYONE: Anal Probe 3000?
BUTTERS: I don’t know what it is, but my mom says it makes my dad friskier than a Tom cat, whatever that means.
CARTMAN: Your parents are fornicating? Ha ha! (Spitting out potato chips as he speaks) Aren’t they too old to be fucking?
BUTTERS: Well, that’s what I thought too, until I saw them going at it all hot and heavy last night.
KENNY: (Mumbling) Gross!
BUTTERS: You said it. I tell you, I hope to never, ever see that again! I don’t wish it on my worst enemy. I mean, the sight of them, all dressed up and, and, and…
Butters throws up. After seeing Butters hurl, everyone else at the table hurls. Then the entire cafeteria hurls.
Afternoon. Cartman’s backyard after school. Stan, Kyle, Butters, Kenny, Jimmy and Cartman gather by Cartman’s wooden fence that adjoins his neighbor’s house, the very same neighbor who owns the loud rooster. Butters holds a video camera, while Cartman holds a single, shiny white Alka Seltzer.
CARTMAN: Okay, ha, ha, I’m going to toss this, ha, ha, Alka Seltzer over the fence and watch that rooster fucking explode. You ready for filming Butters?
BUTTERS: You betcha!
Butters aims the camera as he waits for Cartman to tell him to start filming. Cartman tosses the Alka Seltzer over the fence and the gang anxiously watch through various holes in the wooden fence.
The rooster calmly walks over to the Alka Seltzer.
CARTMAN: There he goes. Come on, eat it. Eat it!
The rooster kicks the Alka Seltzer around a bit, then walks away.
CARTMAN: God-damned rooster! I’ve had it with you. Okay, Kyle, Stan, Kenny, push me over the fence!
Kyle, Stan, and Kenny struggle to push Cartman’s fat ass over the fence. Eventually, he makes it over and lands with a thump!
CARTMAN: Ouch! (Stands up rubbing his ass) God-damned rooster, come here.
Cartman quickly runs to the Alka Seltzer and then runs around trying to catch the rooster.
KYLE: Cartman, you’ve got to be smarter than the rooster to catch it.
STAN: And faster!
CARTMAN: Thank you smart asses! This thing is a lot faster than it looks. Quick, somebody give me some candy or meat or something that roosters like to eat.
JIMMY: I, I, I’ve got a butterscotch. Here you go.
Jimmy tosses it over the fence. Cartman grabs the butterscotch, unwraps it, bites down on it, eats most of it, then walks slowly towards the rooster offering him a small bit of butterscotch candy.
CARTMAN: Here rooster, rooster, rooster. You stupid bird!
Cartman eases close to the rooster and then grabs it by the neck.
CARTMAN: A-ha! Butters, you got this?
Butters turns on the video camera and aims it at Eric.
BUTTERS: Okay, action.
Butters starts filming. Cartman tries to force the Alka Seltzer down the rooster’s neck, to no avail.
CARTMAN: God-damned stupid rooster, open up your beak!
A flash suddenly goes off.
CARTMAN: What the fuck was that?
Cartman looks up to the second floor of his neighbor’s house and notices his neighbor with a camera in one hand and a phone in the other.
CARTMAN: Oh shit. Run, run fast!
Cartman tosses the rooster, puts the rest of the butterscotch in his mouth, runs to his neighbor’s gate, and lets himself out while the other kids run inside Cartman’s house.
Thirty minutes later, the boys are in Cartman’s basement playing the board game Risk on the ground, eating chips, drinking sodas, and listening to music. Cartman’s mom comes in.
MS. CARTMAN: Eric, honey, there are some policemen at the door wanting to speak with you. They say it’s important.
CARTMAN: Ah mom, (feigning sickness), I really, cough, cough, don’t feel very good. Can you handle it for me?
MS. CARTMAN: Sure snookums. Do you want some medicine?
CARTMAN: No, cough, cough, just some more coke and Cheetos, cough, please.
MS. CARTMAN: Okay.
Ms. Cartman leaves.
CARTMAN: (Boastfully) Ha! My mom will chase those stupid cops away in no time!
BUTTERS: Boy, I sure wish your mom was my mom.
JIMMY: Me too, can we ta, ta, trade?
CARTMAN: No way!
Ms. Cartman returns.
MS. CARTMAN: Eric, dear, the nice policemen have a photo of you choking the neighbor’s chicken. I really think you need to get up here and explain this misunderstanding.
CARTMAN: Chicken? Mom, can’t you handle it?
MS. CARTMAN: Eric, my big boy, they just want to ask you some questions.
CARTMAN: Aw, okay!
Cut to Cartman’s doorway where two police officers stand, one holding a large photo in his hand of Cartman choking the rooster. Cartman tries to formulate a lie in his head while Ms. Cartman gazes on from a distance.
POLICEMAN 1: Son, (Sticking a photo in Cartman’s face) is this you?
CARTMAN: Let’s see, hmm, blue & yellow cap, check. Red jacket, check. Round, cute, cuddly face, check. Well, it sure is a good likeness.
POLICEMAN 2: Son, why on earth are you trying to choke your neighbor’s chicken?
CARTMAN: Rooster! It’s a rooster! And I wasn’t trying to choke it, I was trying, to uh, to, to feed the poor, little, scrawny, hungry thing.
POLICEMAN 1: So, this is you?
CARTMAN: Yes, it is. I, um, came home from school and noticed the poor thing keeled over, obviously near dead from lack of food. So I scrambled to the refrigerator and grabbed everything I could. The rooster was so weak, it couldn’t open its widdow, itty, bitty mouth so I had to force feed it like a mother hen to its young, helpless, hungry chick. And that’s when my neighbor, Mr. Wippleman, took that photo.
POLICEMAN 2: Well, your neighbor says different and is pressing charges. You’ll receive a court date in the mail; I suggest you get yourself a good lawyer. See you in court.
Cartman slams the door shut.
CARTMAN: Goddamn it!
MS. CARTMAN: Oh, cupcake, I can’t believe they would accuse you of such a horrendous crime.
CARTMAN: I know. Can you believe it? Stinking neighbors! We should burn their house down.
MS. CARTMAN: Now Eric, I’m sure everything will come out in court, don’t you worry my little honey bunny!
Late night. A few days later. Outside wide-angle shot of Butter’s house.
Cut to close up of Butters sleeping.
Cartman appears at Butters’ window holding a video camera and wearing camouflaged clothing.
CARTMAN: (Knocking on the window) Butters, quick, let me in.
BUTTERS: (Groggy, just waking up) Oh hi, Eric. (Opens the window) What are you doing here?
CARTMAN: It’s on! Let’s go!
BUTTERS: What’s on, Eric?
CARTMAN: Your parents are doing it again! Let’s film them!
BUTTERS: What? Eric no!
CARTMAN: (Shaking Butters) Don’t “no” me Butters. I’ve been camping outside your house for days now! I will not be denied.
Cartman skips towards the doorway.
BUTTERS: (Grabbing Cartman’s waist and holding him back) Eric, I’m really putting my foot down.
CARTMAN: (Dragging Butters) Get off me Butters, this has to be posted on the Internet!
Butters gets up and runs to his parent’s door to block Eric from entering. The two boys struggle and Cartman eventually opens the door. They look in. Butters’ parents are dressed as Nazis: Ms. Stotch is whipping Mr. Stotch’s behind with her cane (The Anal Probe 3000) while he buries his head in her crotch. They both look up and shriek.
BUTTERS: (Yelling) Stop it! Stop it this instance!
Butters pukes while Eric starts filming the Stotches.
CARTMAN: (Still filming) Oh don’t mind us, go on, continue, but can you give us a bit more emotion this time and Ms. Stotch, I’d like to see you topless, and Mr. Stotch can you shave that hairy ass, please!
Morning. Wide-angle shot of the school, class time.
Mr. Garrison’s class. Mr. Mackey comes in to speak to the class.
MR. MACKEY: It has come to my attention, mkay, that one of you has discovered the art of self gratification. This is not something you should be attempting at your age. Some people, mkay, believe that this leads to blindness and a whole slew of illnesses, not to mention it’s a sin against god and the entire human race, and you will most surely go directly to hell, mkay.
STAN: (To Cartman) Dude man, I think he’s talking about you.
CARTMAN: (Half awake, barely listening) Me? Huh? What?
JIMMY: Yeah, he thinks you’re cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, choking the chicken.
CARTMAN: (Screams) It was a rooster!
MR. GARRISON: A rooster? Well, whatever it is you’re calling it nowadays, it must stop! I advise any of you that are experimenting to seek psychological help before you go blind or worse, your hands fall off!
Noon. Cafeteria, lunch time. Kenny, Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Butters, and Jimmy are eating at a table together.
BUTTERS: Holy pickles and jam! Do you really think it’s true that you’ll go blind if you spank your kitten?
JIMMY: That’s spank your mu, mu, monkey. And no, that’s all ba, ba, bullshit. Next thing you know they’ll say you’ll stuh, stuh, stutter if you do it.
CARTMAN: (Eying Jimmy suspiciously) Hmmmmm.
BUTTERS: Well, I don’t really care about Smurf stroking or whatever it is you call it. I’ve got more serious problems. My parents were at it again last night, and I told them to stop. Now they want me to see a psychologist after school. And they want you, Eric, to go with me.
CARTMAN: (Innocently) Me? What on Earth for?
BUTTERS: You know why! And you made me promise not to tell the fellas, so I won’t.
Kyle looks curiously at Stan.
CARTMAN: Why Butters, what in Satan’s name are you talking about?
BUTTERS: You know very well Eric, and my parents are insisting that you go.
CARTMAN: Oh no, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll just get my mom to write a note or something saying I’m too sane to attend. The last thing I want is some shrink to brainwash my delicate brain.
BUTTERS: Actually, my mom said she’d call your mom if you don’t go.
KYLE: What are you guys talking about?
CARTMAN: (Innocently) Oh nothing, nothing. (Pissed off) Okay Butters, I’ll go, but don’t expect me to help solve your problems! (To the other guys) He’s got issues.
Afternoon. Outside the psychologist’s office. A sign on the door reads, “The Office of Paul Rubens: Clinical Psychologist”.
Cartman and Butters sit nervously on a big cushy couch. The shrink walks in.
PAUL RUBENS: Which one of you is Butters?
BUTTERS: (Sitting up straight) I am, sir!
PAUL RUBENS: Great! Your parents wanted me to talk to you about sex. Do you know what that is?
CARTMAN: (Sarcastically) No, kind sir, we don’t. Would you happen to have any graphic material that would help explain it to us?
BUTTERS: Eric! Don’t mind him, sir. He’s just being funny. Yes, we know what sex is.
PAUL RUBENS: Excellent! So what exactly is it that bothers you about your parents having sexual intercourse?
CARTMAN: Dude man, they’re like ancient and they’re having sex and making all kinds of noises, dressing up in costumes, and it’s absolutely making him sick. Can’t you tell them to stop or something? They’re like 40, tell them this shit has got to stop!
PAUL RUBENS: Who on earth are you, little boy? And why is it that you are here?
CARTMAN: I’m just here providing moral support for Butters.
BUTTERS: Don’t you let him fool ya, Mr. Rubens. He’s here because he tried to film my parents having sex and also tried to choke his neighbor’s chicken.
CARTMAN: It was a rooster!
PAUL RUBENS: (Suddenly interested in Eric) Really? Why a rooster?
CARTMAN: I was trying to kill, I mean, feed it and got caught, I mean (Cough, cough) my neighbor noticed me trying to help his lovable rooster.
PAUL RUBENS: How long have you been having these feelings towards your rooster?
CARTMAN: It wasn’t mine, it was my neighbor’s.
PAUL RUBENS: So you were trying to pet your neighbor’s rooster?
CARTMAN: (Shifting in his seat) No, no, no. I was simply trying to feed my neighbor’s rooster.
PAUL RUBENS: Fascinating! How long have you been interested in feeding your neighbor’s, uh, rooster?
CARTMAN: Just recently, he’s been keeping me up at night so finally I went over there.
PAUL RUBENS: And what happened?
CARTMAN: I tried to simply pet my neighbor’s rooster, feed it, calm it down, and then the cops got involved, and it was ugly.
PAUL RUBENS: I see. Are your parents aware of this?
CARTMAN: My mom is. The cops came over and now I’ve got to go to court. It’s no big deal, really.
PAUL RUBENS: Well, I’d be happy to represent you in court.
PAUL RUBENS: Yes, I’ll do everything I can to get you off; I mean, help you explain your side of the story. This sounds like a classic case of willy wanking, something I am very familiar with.
CARTMAN: Great, my court date has been set for next week.
Outside wide-angle shot of the Marsh’s home. Close up of Stan approaching his dad’s study. Stan opens the door and walks in.
Randy’s in front of the computer whacking away to porn.
RANDY: (Not noticing Stan, his eyes are transfixed on porn) Yes, yes, who’s your daddy?
STAN: Dad, what are you doing?
RANDY: (Quickly grabbing a book and putting it over his erect member) Oh nothing, nothing (The book flies in the air while a long steady stream of white goo shoots it up to the ceiling).
STAN: What the hell is that?
RANDY: What? (Grabbing the computer keyboard and pushing it down to stem the flow) Oh, that? It’s an old war wound that flairs up sometimes like a geyser (Grabs the computer screen to cover himself up more).
STAN: Were you in the war?
RANDY: (Nostalgically) A war? Hmm. Not really, it was more of a skirmish in the fifth grade. I’ll tell you about it some day when you’re older son.
STAN: Whatever. But Dad, I’ve got a serious question: Will you go blind if you masturbate?
RANDY: Stan! (Rubbing his eyes) Who on earth told you that?
STAN: My teacher, Mr. Garrison.
RANDY: Well, that is completely untrue and completely irresponsible. I want to have a word with your teacher!
Outside wide-angle shot of the school, late afternoon.
Inside Mr. Garrison’s classroom. Mr. Garrison is grading papers. Randy marches in.
RANDY: It has come to my attention that you are informing nine-year-old children that masturbating will lead to blindness, and that it is a sin punishable by banishment to hell.
MR. GARRISON: Yes, Mr. Marsh, I most certainly have been.
RANDY: You admit it! How can you sit there calmly and say that you’re telling this to kids! This is not the dark ages.
MR. GARRISON: My dear Mr. Marsh, you are as aware as am I that masturbation is a sin! And I can only hypothesize that your concern on the topic must have a deeper meaning.
RANDY: What? Like what?
MR. GARRISON: Like, you yourself must have issues with masturbation and that is why you are so upset.
RANDY: I do not have issues; it’s a normal, healthy thing to do.
MR. GARRISON: Says who?
RANDY: Says all the modern sex therapists.
MR. GARRISON: Well, the only true expert on the subject is God, and he clearly says it is a sin. And if you partake, then you are clearly going straight to hell!
RANDY: (Shaking his fist) I’ll send you to hell if you tell kids any more of this nonsense.
MR. GARRISON: (Feigning fright) Oh, I’m so frightened. Look! Mr. Marsh, I’ve got news for you; I’ve already booked my one-way ticket directly to hell. And it appears that I’ll see you there!
Late evening. Outside wide-angle shot of the Marsh house.
Cut to inside of Randy and Sharon’s room. Randy is dreaming of his first day in hell. He walks up the entrance frightened out of his mind. Flames are singing his skin.
SATAN: Well, hello Randy, glad you could make it!
RANDY: Look Satan, there must be some kind of mistake.
SATAN: Gee, I’ve never heard that one before. Let’s see, (Looking in a big book), Marsh, Randal H. It says here you were very fond of masturbation. Is that correct?
RANDY: Well, it all depends how you define the word “fond” I suppose.
SATAN: Let’s see (Looking deeper into the book), I happen to have a detailed video catalog of the times you touched yourself. Would you like to see it?
RANDY: Uh, no!
SATAN: It says here that in your heyday, you were up to “doing it” five times a day. Is that a typo?
RANDY: Five times, a day? Well, that does seem a bit excessive.
SATAN: I guess it all depends on how you define “excessive”. Let’s just agree that you are fond of it.
Satan puts his arm on Randy’s shoulder and shows him around hell. He walks Randy through a big labyrinth of hell fire and tortured souls.
SATAN: So Randy, check this out, I’ve got a great place for you already lined up in hell. You’ll spend your first millennium in a Vaseline encrusted room with oodles of playboy bunnies, excesses of internet porn, and all the sex material you could ever dream of having.
RANDY: Sounds great Satan, what’s the catch?
SATAN: None really, except you’ll be required to service the entire community. I will provide you with extra arms, mouths, and anuses so that you can service up to a 1,000 clients an hour. It’s a great gig; I may even visit you on occasion.
RANDY: But Satan, I’m not really into, you know, servicing others.
SATAN: That’s okay, you’ll learn to love it and after you perfect the art of servicing humans sexually, we’ll transfer you to the livestock area.
RANDY: Satan! Look, I’ve got a little problem, but I think I can whip it. If I do, can I go to heaven instead?
SATAN: I’m afraid not. You’re already in the books. Of course, we must await your death before you begin. But if you like, we can give you a little taste of what your first thousand years will be like. Here you go, check it out!
Satan throws Randy, who now has numerous arms, ten mouths, and a huge ass, into a big burning room with anxious naked customers awaiting his services.
RANDY: Satan, no! I’ll change, I swear I will!
Randy wakes up in a hellaciously cold sweat. He nervously looks around feeling for extra appendages.
RANDY: (Relieved) Ha, it was a dream. It was only a dream!
SHARON: (Barely awake) What was a dream, honey?
RANDY: (Grabbing Sharon) Babe, I just had an epiphany! It was amazing. I now know my purpose in life.
SHARON: (Trying to go back to sleep) That’s great hun, just tell me all about it in the morning.
She fades back to sleep. Camera zooms in on Randy’s excited face.
RANDY: Porn, must stop the porn!
Randy’s office. Randy is standing at the water cooler with three of his male coworkers chewing the fat during a break.
RANDY: Guys, I’ve decided that I’ve got to stop the porn. It’s taken over my life, I can’t stop watching it, so I’ve decided to stop cold turkey.
COWORKER 1: What! I can’t live without it!
COWORKER 2: Me neither. If it wasn’t for porn, I’d never get laid!
COWORKER 3: (Quietly eases forward, looks around suspiciously. Cue ancient Chinese philosopher music). I once was like you, grasshopper. I too let the porn dominate my life. Until, one faithful day, I stumbled upon the Gonad 6000.
ALL THREE: The Gonad 6000?
COWORKER 3: Yes, you heard me. (Whispering) It’s a state-of-the-art technological gizmo that clamps around your testicles and freezes them. Then, on that one faithful day a month, or year, when your wife is ready to be mounted, you can remove the Gonad 6000 and perform intercourse.
COWORKER 1: Did you say clamp? I ain’t clamping anything to my testicles! Hell no!
COWORKER 2: How in the world does it freeze your nuts?
COWORKER 3: It’s battery powered. You recharge it at night. And it’s not uncomfortable at all. I’m actually wearing one right now (Knocks on his balls and a loud metallic sound rings out).
COWORKER 1: Sounds like you’re wearing an iron cup.
COWORKER 3: That’s the Gonad 6000 made with the same technology NASA astronauts use to go to space. It stops all those annoying sexual urges or your money back! Guaranteed!
COWORKER 2: What happens if someone kicks you really hard in the nuts? Will your balls snap off?
COWORKER 3: On the contrary, it protects your nuts from cheap shots. Listen, I used to walk in fear that someone would graze my package, but not anymore. And let me tell you, I don’t have any sexual urges or thoughts while it’s on! It’s miraculous!
RANDY: Well, I’m sold! That’s exactly what I need.
Late afternoon. Close up of the South Park sign, someone has scribbled a naked woman on it.
Cut to outside view of the town pharmacy.
Randy walks out of the main street pharmacy with a brand new Gonad 6000 under one arm. He nervously tries to avert his eyes from all the sexual advertising he sees on the streets.
RANDY: (To himself) Must avert eyes. Cannot look at the porn.
He sees a provocative poster and quickly turns away. He sees a beautiful woman licking an ice-cream cone and turns and abruptly walks the other way. Then he sees a real woman bending over to fix her shoe.
Frightened, Randy grabs his crotch and runs away.
Cut to Randy’s car.
Randy drives home as quickly as possible trying desperately to avoid the porn. As he drives, pornographic images fly at him left and right.
Cut to the outside of the Marsh home.
Randy enters the driveway and skids to a stop. He jumps out of his car and runs into his house.
Cut to the Marsh kids watching TV. Randy runs past them and heads for the bathroom.
RANDY: (In a hurry) Hi kids!
STAN: (Not looking up) Hi dad.
SHELLEY LYNN: (Picking her nose) Hi dad.
Cut to the bathroom.
Randy, buck naked, clamps the large chrome Gonad 6000 around his nuts, puts in fresh batteries, and then straps on some suspenders to hold it in place. He turns it on and looks at himself in the mirror. It begins to hum softly.
RANDY: (Feeling a slight chill) Now that’s what I’m talking about!
Cut to Sharon in the kitchen cooking up a storm. Randy approaches her from behind and nibbles on her neck.
SHARON: Randy! Not now! The kids are home and we have company coming.
RANDY: (Rubbing his Gonad 6000 sexually on Sharon’s leg) Company?
SHARON: Randy, I told you about it earlier in the week. The Joburgs are coming over to show us their newborn.
RANDY: But Sharon!
SHARON: No buts Randy. Go into our study and put on some pornos if you’re horny, baby. (Leans back and kisses Randy, then feels his sack) Randy! What is that?
RANDY: It’s the Gonad 6000. I don’t need porn any more. (Pounding his sack with his fist) I just clamp this baby on, and it automatically freezes my nuts until we’re ready to have sex. It totally takes the edge off!
Cut to the dinner table. All the Marshes are present as well as Bill & Mary Joburg and their tiny newborn, Willie.
Cut to Randy eyeballing the enormous cleavage and massive nipple action on Mary Joburg as he munches away at his dinner. He’s mesmerized by her breasts.
BILL: And so, there was poor Mary all laid out, and they shoved those massive metal forceps right up her crotch. I’ve got it all on video! And they clamped onto little Willie’s head, and yanked him right out of her. Pop! He shot out like a champagne cork.
Randy is just nodding his head, fixating on those titties, and drooling.
MARY: (Takes out one of her ample breasts and begins feeding Willie right at the table) I couldn’t feel a thing ‘cuz I was so drugged up!
Randy becomes even more aroused.
GRANDPA MARSH: (Eying Mary’s breasts) Now ’em are some titties!
MARY: (Pulling Willie off of her breast, breast milk squirts everywhere) I can’t believe Willie, this big baby, came out of me. My word! (Suddenly hears a strange clicking sound). What’s that noise?
Everyone turns to look at Randy, who has his mouth wide open and a huge puddle of drool has formed on his plate.
RANDY: Huh? (Randy suddenly becomes aware that others are looking at him and then notices the strange metallic noise) Yeah, what is that clicking sound?
Randy looks down at his Gonad 6000, it’s moving up and down rapidly and clanking on his chair and the underside of the table loudly. It’s red hot!
RANDY: (Suddenly concerned) Okay everyone, I’m only going to say this once, TAKE COVER!
Enter super slo-mo. Everyone at the table immediately spreads out and dives for cover. The clicking gets louder and louder and then Randy’s Gonad 6000 explodes.
End of part I.
©Copyright Hillel Groovatti, all rights reserved. Hillel Groovatti is the author of “Totally Losing Face and Other Stories”.
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