One Good Boot
Slappy McBappy raised his shoe and chucked it towards the dumpster, only over shooting the dumpster by about fifteen feet. The shoe came to rest on a fire ant hill, agitating 384297 ants that immediately swarmed the shoe to protect their beloved queen. This may symbolize something. I'm not sure. Pay attention.
"Fuckin' shoe," muttered McBappy. He pulled a cowboy boot out of the bed of his pickup and forced it onto his newly bared foot.
"Perfect fit," gleamed McBappy. "Sweet."
His other foot (the left) was still bare. He only had a right boot and a right shoe. We know what happened to the shoe, and the boot was now on his foot. He walked to the dumpster and found a piece of styrofoam and tied it to his left foot with some twine.
"Hot damn!"
McBappy got in his truck and did a few donuts in the gravel parking lot before peeling out on down the road. While cruising on down the road listening to some tunes, he passed a sign indicating directions to get to the beach.
"The beach. I wanna go to the beach. Hot damn!" exclaimed McBappy. "Ah yeah, hot babes and sand and surf. I'm gonna get me a ham sandwich and a tan."
McBappy arrived at the beach and started to relax with a ham sandwich in his hand and a tan on the way.
"Ahhhhh, the good life," sighed McBappy as he noticed a gang of--yep, you guessed it--windsurfers.
One of the windsurfers approaches. He's wearing lots of spandex.
"This is a private beach, asshole. Locals only, bitchwipe. Hey, where'd you get that ham sandwich? Is that a piece of styrofoam on your foot?"
"One question at time, please," replied McBappy.
"I don't think I like your attitude," snarled the windsurfer. "Stand up."
McBappy started to get up but the windsurfer pushed him back down into the sand.
"I said get up."
McBappy looked up at the guy, and started to get up again, only to be pushed back down into the sand.
"What's the matter, don't you speak American? I said get up!"
"It'd be a lot easier for me to get up if you didn't push me."
"No excuses, get up, baby ass."
Slappy McBappy slowly rolled over and then suddenly kicked wildly with his booted leg. The windsurfer was not ready for this surprise on-the-ground-crab-kick and the heel of the boot just barely, and I mean barely, grazed the windsurfer's nuts. But it was enough to bring the windsurfer to his knees. While both men were on the ground, McBappy thrusted his other leg and popped the windsurfer in the face. Only it didn't hurt, because getting kicked in the head with a styrofoam shoe doesn't really hurt that bad.
McBappy stood up and grabbed his ham sandwich that had fallen into the sand and crammed it into the windsurfer's mouth. By the this time, though, the rest of the windsurfer's friends had come over and they started kicking the crap out of McBappy.
McBappy was severely beaten and then dumped into the bed of his truck where he slept that night. When he awoke, he saw the windsurfers surfing. He crawled into his truck and realized that his boot was gone and he was only wearing the sytrofoam.
"Damn, that was one good boot," sighed Slappy McBappy.
"Fuckin' shoe," muttered McBappy. He pulled a cowboy boot out of the bed of his pickup and forced it onto his newly bared foot.
"Perfect fit," gleamed McBappy. "Sweet."
His other foot (the left) was still bare. He only had a right boot and a right shoe. We know what happened to the shoe, and the boot was now on his foot. He walked to the dumpster and found a piece of styrofoam and tied it to his left foot with some twine.
"Hot damn!"
McBappy got in his truck and did a few donuts in the gravel parking lot before peeling out on down the road. While cruising on down the road listening to some tunes, he passed a sign indicating directions to get to the beach.
"The beach. I wanna go to the beach. Hot damn!" exclaimed McBappy. "Ah yeah, hot babes and sand and surf. I'm gonna get me a ham sandwich and a tan."
McBappy arrived at the beach and started to relax with a ham sandwich in his hand and a tan on the way.
"Ahhhhh, the good life," sighed McBappy as he noticed a gang of--yep, you guessed it--windsurfers.
One of the windsurfers approaches. He's wearing lots of spandex.
"This is a private beach, asshole. Locals only, bitchwipe. Hey, where'd you get that ham sandwich? Is that a piece of styrofoam on your foot?"
"One question at time, please," replied McBappy.
"I don't think I like your attitude," snarled the windsurfer. "Stand up."
McBappy started to get up but the windsurfer pushed him back down into the sand.
"I said get up."
McBappy looked up at the guy, and started to get up again, only to be pushed back down into the sand.
"What's the matter, don't you speak American? I said get up!"
"It'd be a lot easier for me to get up if you didn't push me."
"No excuses, get up, baby ass."
Slappy McBappy slowly rolled over and then suddenly kicked wildly with his booted leg. The windsurfer was not ready for this surprise on-the-ground-crab-kick and the heel of the boot just barely, and I mean barely, grazed the windsurfer's nuts. But it was enough to bring the windsurfer to his knees. While both men were on the ground, McBappy thrusted his other leg and popped the windsurfer in the face. Only it didn't hurt, because getting kicked in the head with a styrofoam shoe doesn't really hurt that bad.
McBappy stood up and grabbed his ham sandwich that had fallen into the sand and crammed it into the windsurfer's mouth. By the this time, though, the rest of the windsurfer's friends had come over and they started kicking the crap out of McBappy.
McBappy was severely beaten and then dumped into the bed of his truck where he slept that night. When he awoke, he saw the windsurfers surfing. He crawled into his truck and realized that his boot was gone and he was only wearing the sytrofoam.
"Damn, that was one good boot," sighed Slappy McBappy.
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