Post by Public Enemies on May 25, 2012 15:36:07 GMT -5
"Ladies and gentleman, please welcome my guests at this time, Public Enemies!"
Barta Bull, John Vendetta, and Sabrina walk into the backstage set.
"Yeah thanks for havin' us Chuck."
Barta Bull reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a cheap lighter. He removes one and lights it.
"What? Lemme tell you somethin'"
The Eight Second Disaster snatches Coors microphone from his flaccid grip. BB leans his elbow on Charlie's shoulder.
"Do I bother you Coors? You don't like a cigarette every now and then? Or are you one of those self-righteous assholes who don't believe its good for our little environment?"
"Actually I'm asthmatic."
"I don't want your excuses! Society tries to make us believe its rude or inappropriate to smoke. Do you believe in that?"
"Well..."
"Don't believe it. Are those the clothes you wanna wear? Is that 'you'?"
"I dress appropriately."
"What is appropriate? Who decides that? Its not you and its certainly not me. Do I dress appropriately? Is this what I'm supposed to look like. Am I trendy? No. No, I'm not."
John Vendetta hands The Terrible Toro a narrow flask of whiskey. BB pops off the nozzle and takes a drink. He slides the flask under Coors' nose once.
"This is whiskey. Remember the old time movies? You always saw a tattered old man sippin' this dry. He would have a gray beard, long unwashed hair, and an old holy jacket. Have you ever had whiskey Coors? Ever had a drink."
"I..."
"Go ahead and say 'no'. That's the proper thing to do. 'Alcohol is poison'. If I'm drinking whiskey than I'm obviously an alcoholic. Right? Wrong. I drink like a fish because I CAN. I don't have problems. But I do drink my feelings."
The Texan takes another swig.
"I FEEL like drinking large amounts of alcohol. I FEEL like playing cards and gambling large amounts of money. I FEEL like gettin' into fights. I FEEL like doin' what I want. It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Because I am me. I am my own boss. I am my own fate. I don't need anyone to tell me what's 'acceptable' or what I should be. And these two awesome individuals totally agree with me."
"Tell 'em."
Sabrina places her hands sensually on Charlie Coors' shoulders.
"Know your enemy..."
Charlie Coors adjusts his collar as the trio disbands and the scene fades to black.
Barta Bull, John Vendetta, and Sabrina walk into the backstage set.
"Yeah thanks for havin' us Chuck."
Barta Bull reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a cheap lighter. He removes one and lights it.
"What? Lemme tell you somethin'"
The Eight Second Disaster snatches Coors microphone from his flaccid grip. BB leans his elbow on Charlie's shoulder.
"Do I bother you Coors? You don't like a cigarette every now and then? Or are you one of those self-righteous assholes who don't believe its good for our little environment?"
"Actually I'm asthmatic."
"I don't want your excuses! Society tries to make us believe its rude or inappropriate to smoke. Do you believe in that?"
"Well..."
"Don't believe it. Are those the clothes you wanna wear? Is that 'you'?"
"I dress appropriately."
"What is appropriate? Who decides that? Its not you and its certainly not me. Do I dress appropriately? Is this what I'm supposed to look like. Am I trendy? No. No, I'm not."
John Vendetta hands The Terrible Toro a narrow flask of whiskey. BB pops off the nozzle and takes a drink. He slides the flask under Coors' nose once.
"This is whiskey. Remember the old time movies? You always saw a tattered old man sippin' this dry. He would have a gray beard, long unwashed hair, and an old holy jacket. Have you ever had whiskey Coors? Ever had a drink."
"I..."
"Go ahead and say 'no'. That's the proper thing to do. 'Alcohol is poison'. If I'm drinking whiskey than I'm obviously an alcoholic. Right? Wrong. I drink like a fish because I CAN. I don't have problems. But I do drink my feelings."
The Texan takes another swig.
"I FEEL like drinking large amounts of alcohol. I FEEL like playing cards and gambling large amounts of money. I FEEL like gettin' into fights. I FEEL like doin' what I want. It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Because I am me. I am my own boss. I am my own fate. I don't need anyone to tell me what's 'acceptable' or what I should be. And these two awesome individuals totally agree with me."
"Tell 'em."
Sabrina places her hands sensually on Charlie Coors' shoulders.
"Know your enemy..."
Charlie Coors adjusts his collar as the trio disbands and the scene fades to black.