Thursday, November 24, 2011

A Thanksgiving Feast at the Inges'

BRANDON INGE: Golly, kids! Look at this spread your mom whipped up for us! It’s a shame she was so determined to get out there for the Black Friday sales, huh? Haha, oh well, she loves her shopping! That’s why Daddy’s gotta keep playing ball on his wrecked up knees, right?
CHASE INGE: Daddy, is Mommy a gold digger?

TYLER INGE: Do you secretly hate Mommy?

BRANDON: Gosh, no, kids! Wow, your imaginations are out there! Haha…sigh. Well, boys, don’t fret. We’re not gonna be alone this Thanksgiving because some of Dad’s best buddies said they’d be stopping by! Heck, we’re gonna have a grand old time! Not like we can eat all this super grub ourselves!

CHASE: Uncle Sheff’s not coming, is he?

TYLER: He always asks us for money.

CHASE: And calls Mommy a stank ass ho.

TYLER: What’s a stank ass ho, Daddy?

BRANDON: Um, don’t worry about it. And no, Uncle Sheff won’t be coming. He hates Daddy because Daddy is still employed. No, some of our less fortunate friends that didn’t have anywhere else to go will be coming over. In fact, I think I hear a car door now! Be on your best behavior, kids!

/door shoots open


CASPER WELLS: Holla, holla, holla, it’s none other than the Upstate Balla! What up, B? How’s my boy doin’?

BRANDON: Hey, Casper. Great to see ya. Hope you had a swell birthday yesterday.

WELLS: Sho nuff, bro. Sho nuff. Da Balla had hisself a bitchin’ time, son. Too much fun, in fact. Glad you called about this Thanksgiving party, man. Statutory rape laws be enforced like a mutha out in Seattle, bro. Balla need to lay low, you know what I’m sayin’? Wow! This food spread be tight, B! And look at these kids! Damn, you playas be getting’ big! Hey, boys…y’all got a sister?

BRANDON: Um, no, Casper, they don’t. I thought you said you were bringing someone with you?
WILL RHYMES: I’m down here, Brandon.

BRANDON: Oh my! Hey, Will! Sorry, buddy. How are things going?

RHYMES: I’m expecting my release any day. I want Danny Worth to die. Life is a miserable existence and I’m considering walking in front of a moving bus.

BRANDON: (whispering) Casper, what happened to him?

WELLS: Nothin’, B. That boy be trippin’ ever since they left him off the playoff roster. Don’t worry. I’m gonna get him laid as soon as I find me a ho that believes he’s over 15, ya know? Are you serious, bro? Is that stuffing? And cranberries? Your girl outdid herself! She around? You guys…ya know…cool?

BRANDON: She’s out shopping. But yeah, she did a heck of a job.

WELLS: Speaking of awesome jobs, did you see Nickelback at halftime earlier? They no T-Pain, but oh snap, those boys be sick, yo! Not as sick as my Cowboys, though, B! They gonna whoop on Miami, son!

BRANDON: I forgot you’re a Cowboys fan. Of course you are.

/knock on door

BRANDON: Will? Can you get that for me?

RHYMES: What’s the point? I hate everyone. And I can’t reach the doorknob.

BRANDON: Fine. Come in!

/thump heard repeadedly

BRANDON: Um…push it open. Don’t pull.

/door finally opens
JEREMY BONDERMAN: DOOR IS TRICKY HERE. HI BRANDON. HI LITTLE BRANDONS. HI BALLER. HI KEEBLER ELF.

CHASE: Yay! Uncle Bondo! He makes us feel smart!

TYLER: Uncle Bondo! I can tie my shoes now! Did you learn yet?

BONDERMAN: VELCRO SHOES NO NEED LACES, SILLY. I’M HUNGRY.

BRANDON: Cool, Bondo. Have a seat. Food’s ready, I’m just bringing it out now. Shani did an amazing job.

RHYMES: I wish I had a wife like yours, Brandon. Guess I never will at this rate. Sigh. Brandon, do you own a gun?

WELLS: Yo, Will. Chill out, bro. Quit bringing everyone down, ya feel me? Here. Have a brew.

/hands Rhymes Smirnoff Ice

BRANDON: Okay, everyone. I think everything’s out and…

/door shoots open
FU-TE NI: Herro evelyone! Happy Tulkey Day!

WELLS: Awww, shit! There’s my boy! You representin’ the Balla in T-Town like a boss, son?

NI: I tly, Barra. But Toredo nevel be the same without you, my fliend. Dlunk gills miss Da Barra in clappy bals downtown. And Fifth Thild Fierd not same, eithel.

BRANDON: Hey, Fu. Take a seat. Oh…we’re out of chairs. Will, do you mind sitting at the kids’ table?

RHYMES: Sigh. Of course. Left out again.

/cuts thigh with razorblade

BRANDON: Okay, fellas. Before we dig in, let’s all take a moment to say what we’re thankful for. I’ll start. I’m thankful for my boys over there, first of all. I’m super thankful for Mr. Ilitch’s misguided faith in me. I’m thankful for great friends like you. And I’m thankful for another year playing in Detroit, the greatest city on earth! Oh, and Shani, of course. Next?

WELLS: I’m thankful for the morning after pill, bro. Oh, and for Affliction shirts. And Tony Romo. And I be thankful that Shani’s out spending your duckets and not mine, son. Haha!

NI: Werr, Ni thankfur fol Da Barra being hearthy again. And Ni thankfur fol Blandon inviting Ni ovel to cereblate famous day whele Pirglims sraughtel Indians aftel eating tulkey and coln.

WELLS: The Indians called it maize, yo. And they re-signed Sizemore.

NI: Solly. Tulkey and maize. Oh, that lemind me. Go maize and brue this Satulday! Buckeyes all going to finarry roose!

BONDERMAN: I THANKFUL FOR SCOOBY DOO. AND PANCAKES. DID SHANI MAKE PANCAKES, BRANDON?

BRANDON: Um, no. Sorry, man.

BONDERMAN: FIDDLESTICKS.

BRANDON: Kids? How about you guys, you little rascals?

CHASE: We’re thankful for Mommy.

TYLER: And Nintendo DS.

CHASE: And X-Box.

TYLER: And Scooby Doo. Good one, Uncle Bondo.

BRANDON: How about me? Heh…

CHASE: Sure.

TYLER: Whatever, Dad.

RHYMES: I’m thankful for bleach. I’m gonna drink a gallon of it after dinner.

BRANDON: Okay, everyone! God bless us, every one! Dig in!
DAVID PAULEY: Um, is anyone going to pass me a plate?

BRANDON: Holy heckfire! When did you get here, pal?

PAULEY: I was here before everyone else. Guess you didn’t notice…again.

BRANDON: Sorry. Well, chow down, everyone! Happy Thanksgiving!

BONDERMAN: HAPPY…I POOPED.
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Yeah, sorry about all that. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

2 comments:

Spockmaster said...

I POOPED.

H2OPoloPunk said...

A great collection of your characters, Rogo. Still needs a dash of Dombrowski and Illitch, and a touch of Leyland, but nonetheless a mighty fine dish you've served here.