The Upper Decker

Let the sherpa guide you to the height of your gargoyle potential 

Set up a deferred annuity account, without consulting a financial planner, in the bathroom of someone you loathe by climbing on top of the toilet and smashing in the tank, thus establishing a principle balance that will sustain withdraws with each flush into the foreseeable future. Allow yourself to be overtaken with the nauseating vertigo brought on by the extreme height and puke into the bowl below. Future defecators will be confused and frustrated when they go to clear their own poop and the “fresh” water is as brown as the muddy delta of the Mississippi.

Climbing to such altitudes to increase the gravitational potential energy of your crap does not come without risks. Like a Phillies fan seated in the 700 level of the Vet, you may experience nose bleeds, hypoxia and ultimately death. Give your body a chance to acclimatize to the thinner atmosphere by training on first floor toilets. Then, when you are ready for the big show, lighten your burden by hiring a Sherpa or any other asian you can find to carry your gear and hand up toilet paper when you are through with the upper deck.

Heard on the Street: The Jeans brothers have been hired by the Mentos company to produce one of their weird ass commercials. The ad opens to a housewife mopping the kitchen floor barefoot and squeezing her crotch, indicating her need to urinate. When she runs into the bathroom to relieve herself she finds Blue Jeans perched on top of her tank pinching one out. She mouths, “What the fuck are you doing?!” but Blue Jeans just grins and holds up a half-eaten package of Mentos. She then smiles back like a Buddha receiving Total Consciousness. No Jeans, being the extremely particular director that he is and unhappy with the continued look of consternation on the woman’s face upon seeing Blue dumping into the top of her toilet, demanded so many retakes of the final scene that Blue Jeans ingested a good four to five packs of Mentos before the bitch finally got it right, causing Blue to puke into the bowl below from the overdose.


Genesis:

Mr. B, a long time Jeans brothers associate and prolific gargoyler, originated the Upper Decker one night at an after Winter Dance party. Having been passed up by his long time crush who instead double dated the Jeans brothers that night, Mr. B goes stag to the dance dressed in an eight ball jacket and crashes his crush’s after party uninvited. Falling through the front door drunk and disorderly with three rancid tuna hoagies under his armpit for himself and his friends Blue and No, Mr. B is greeted with stares and whispers as the only two welcoming people at the party are in the basement double finger-banging their date. Discouraged, Mr. B seeks refuge in the upstairs master bedroom where his crush was conceived and buries his insecurities deep inside his gut along with the three hoagies.
Slowly working up the courage to go back downstairs to ask his crush to go steady, Mr. B makes himself beautiful in the bathroom mirror by picking all of the tuna out of his teeth. All the sudden Mr. B feels the hoagies sprinting down his descending colon to the finish line and, not wanting to interrupt his preening, Mr. B climbs on top of the toilet so he can continue to see his reflection in the bowl water. The foot long hoagies roar out undigested and more rancid than ever into the upper tank causing Mr. B to lose his balance and fall backwards anus-first onto the flotation mechanism, which reverses the flow of his GI track like a civil war ram rod producing vomitus onto his newly dolled up reflection in the bowl below.


Little known fact- Mr. B the entrepreneur invented his own water shooting ass/vagina cleanser called the B-day®.



Scouting Report

Difficulty: More difficult than obtaining a copy of No Jeans Upper Decker and Topps shelf rookie card. The one that says “Fuck Face” on the nub of his bat.
Intensity: Like climbing Mt Everest without supplemental oxygen
Clean up time: Depends how handy you are with a goldfish scooper, but if left untreated, months.