Re-Reading this yesterday gave me pangs that I could only describe as joy and laughter, or possibly heartburn.
And lesson number 1 of writing: Don't use a girlfriend's name as a character in a story because she will soon be an ex-girlfriend, and your current girlfriend will recognize that name and force you to change it to HER name, and that name will probably suck in the story.
(I made that mistake, and have yet to face the consequences of it, and have also not changed the name due to laziness.).
Chapter 1: The Origins of the S.S. Butt:
Once upon a time there was a fat kid. This fat kid ate and ate and ate and ate and ate until there was no more schnitzel on the whole eastern shore of Japan.
This is not about that kid. That kid is unpopular and would rather be sitting at the dinner table eating a bucket of fried chicken than operating heavy machinery on the Sabbath like our boy Matt ‘The Mattinator’ Ramsey. This kid’s crazy.
Though his heretical antics are hardly the point of this story (at least the aforementioned one, when concerning events happening before the ones that take place as of now); this story is about luck, swashbuckling, robots, space, sponges, tables, chairs, a single slice of bread, upholstery, pants, race car, palindromes, and cheeseburgers.
So one day Matt was bench pressing 5 tons of dried tomatoes when a business proposition came around. A man in a blue suit with a light beige attaché in each hand (the one in the right hand was slightly lighter and thus more efficient at being light beige than the briefcase in the left hand (attaché means briefcase for the less educated…I’m looking at you rednecks)) walked into Matt’s house, without knocking and, strangely, without a key, and slammed a piece of paper down on the counter.
“HERE, is my counteroffer.”
You see previously, Matt offered to buy a car for twenty bucks and a used lifesaver. The car guy, let’s name him Jose, now Jose was an honest man, and he lived an honest life. Unfortunately for Matt that was all a lie and the car ended up being nothing but a slightly used bicycle he nicknamed ‘car’. This wouldn’t have been a problem except that it had a banana seat, and Matt certainly wasn’t a fag. Not that he’s homophobic or that a banana seat indicates homosexuality or anything; it was more the fact that the bike was rainbow painted and the banana seat was pink, in the shape of a hot dog (complete with bun) and had a flag with the words ‘I ‘heart’ Hot Dogs’ in big pink letters. Of course this also isn’t 100% indicative of homosexuality, but heads would turn and assumptions would be made and Matt just can’t have people thinking he’s gay, it’s not true and it would be false advertising which is very, very illegal. If that was not a big enough disclaimer to you PC (Politically Correct, not Personal Computer or Pants Container) jerks, then I don’t know what to tell you.
Let’s move on.
Now after the whole bicycle fiasco, Matt decided to aim for something bigger: tricycle. This was when his beautiful girlfriend Eva came up with a get-rich-quick scheme.
“Matt! Day trading!”
Matt day traded for three and a half minutes earning approximately twenty seven cents. He decided any profit was a good profit and so he took that quarter and two pennies and bought a gumball and actually accidentally abdicated all his pennies when he left them on the vending machine.
To his surprise, the gumball had a food coloring blotch which looked like the Virgin Mary. Matt put it up on one of those internet auction sites, that I’ll be vague about because I feel no reason to give them an unpaid plug, and earned twenty-five billion dollars from a fat single guy who bought the grilled cheese sandwich with the same image and also a potato chip that looks like an oval.
With all that money there is only one thing for Matt to do with it: buy a decommissioned Air Craft Carrier.
This is where our double attaché-wielding suit-monster comes into play. He slammed a piece of paper down on the counter.
“HERE is my counteroffer!”
Matt stepped out of the shower, thankfully censored for the benefit of all you readers. He read the counteroffer and slammed it back on the counter. He jumped back into the shower and continued his rendition of ‘I shot the sheriff’ sung in a splendid falsetto.
Weeks later his Nuclear Powered Air Craft Carrier was carried by a cadre of Chinook choppers to his crib on Long Island. They dropped it and flew off. It destroyed his house and - in a terrible plot twist certainly not done so as create an explanation for their not appearing in the story - killed his entire family.
Seeing how a house and lawn are NOT water, Matt had to call back these choppers and they had to carry it back to the Atlantic Ocean.
Without a house Matt and Eva are forced to live on the Carrier, which was his plan all along, actually.
They had a big party to which all of their friends came. Matt had large letters reading “S.S. Butt” (not that he knew what S.S. stands for, but it sounds nice) across the side making it his. He also had a large red racing stripe painted across it, a kickin' sound system and Yosemite Sam mud flaps.
They set sail the next day (metaphorically, not literally, because air craft carriers don’t have sails, and if they did they would have to be gigantic to be able to move something the size of the S.S. Butt and at that point it would be really inefficient and thus unnecessary) and stopped seconds later because nobody actually knows how to drive it. A crew would be necessary; and since he was cheap, he wanted children.
But that’s a story for another day (assuming that you’re done for the day after this chapter. If you continue reading it’s just a story for another chapter, but being the narrator I don’t like to break the third wall (which would be fourth wall for all you reality TV whores but books are two dimensional) and so I have to think of some other cliché to throw at you to indicate that that story would simply be, if included, a tangent to this one and thus confusing- so any further storytelling about said crew would have to be in a separate entity, in this case a ‘chapter’, requiring you to finish reading and choose to read on, etc. etc. on and on.). So until tomorrow (see above parenthetical note) eat your vegetables.
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