The Telemarketer

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Just as aggravating telemarketers phone *67 at the dinner hour hawking visa cards, vacation plans and insurance policies this annoying gargoyle waits until you are eating and then employs high pressure sales techniques to make you purchase a bathroom time share of poop and vomit. Halfway through Mom’s undercooked chicken parm the line starts to ring in your stomach and gut and you wonder: who is this calling me? “Maybe it is my friend diarrhea” and like a friend calling, you look forward to the entertaining dialogue. But it sort of feels like throw up. This is like a call from Grandmom- you’re not thrilled about talking to her but in the end you feel better about yourself having done it. The last call you want to take, however, is from a fucking telemarketer and as the gargoyle brings you to your knees you scream “I told you assholes to stop calling me!” and you expel from both ends wishing you had taken the national Do Not Call List more seriously.



Leviticus
Overalls threw a bash for Jeans Brother associate Donny Beats-A-Lot and invited a veritable cast of igargoyled characters in addition to Blue and No including Mr. B, Henry Winkler and Dave Coulier. The occasion? Donny had blown his first load that was not completely initiated by himself (Donny erupted in his pants when a post-menopausal athletic trainer begin to massage and loosen up his shoulders in preparation for a Nukem scrimmage). This plus it was Donny’s birthday. Overalls was woking up some chicken for the guests and couldn’t help but snack on the chicken while still raw (Overalls has poor self control- see Coach’s Son, re: walking and beating off). As Overalls plops down dinner for the guests the salmonella in his gut mate and multiply into salmonellae sending Overalls speed dialing to the toilet. “That’s our Dad!” the Jeans brothers brag as the distinctive tones of the gargoyle ring throughout the downstairs, whetting everyone’s appetite.

Scouting Report
Difficulty: Harder than getting a sales caller to believe your parents are actually in the shower. Both of them.
Irritation Factor: Like diaper rash.
Clean Up Time: Longer than the message on your answering machine promising fame, fortune and bigger genitals from some guy in Minnesota wearing a headset.