Epic Night Out: Part 2

Click here for Part 1

geek night

Matt stood with one fist tightly clenched. He’d approached an attractive blonde girl and had begun hitting on her just as her date, who was built like a giant, showed up. While the giant in the leather jacket was waiting to fight to his right, to Matt’s left there was a group of guys pointing and laughing at him. No doubt that group had added some spice to the bar nuts as a prank – Matt’s mouth was now burning so intensely after eating them, he could hardly manage to get words out of his mouth.

Worst of all, Keith – Matt’s even-keeled, comfort-craving friend – was nowhere to be seen. He’d made Matt promise him they’d only have one drink then be out of there.

“What’s the deal?” said the giant. “You hittin’ on my chick?”

Matt looked at the blonde girl as she happily chewed her gum and twirled a lock of hair.

Before he could respond, a few dozen peanuts smacked against his back. The group behind him laughed harder than before.

“You’re,” began Matt. He was trying to insult the giant, but the burning sensation in his throat was killing him. “You’re a-” Matt stopped short again – his strained voice was coming through high-pitched – he felt like a talking mouse.

“I’m a?” said the giant. “I’m a what?”

“You’re,” cough, “a,” cough,”hussey.”

That wasn’t what Matt was trying to say.

“A hussey?” said the giant, followed by a hearty laugh. “That so?”

The giant nodded his head as he took off his jacket, one sleeve at a time. He handed it to the blonde girl.

Another spray of peanuts hit Matt on the back. He turned around to catch the group laughing at him some more. The bottle of hot sauce sat on the table in the middle of them. Matt then turned to the bar – still no sign of Kieth.

Where the fuck did Keith go?

Matt reluctantly turned to face the giant again. He clenched his own fists. As the giant loaded up and Matt braced himself for the brutal ass-kicking he was about to be on the receiving end of, something amazing happened – a beer bottle came flying through the air and shattered against the giant’s head, knocking him out cold and sending him timbering to the ground.

“Whoa,” said Matt. He looked up slowly to find Kieth, standing by the doorway.

“I said one beer! Let’s go!”

Keith bolted out the doorway. Matt turned around to the group that had been laughing at him. They were now stunned and speechless, staring in unison at the giant on the ground. Matt checked on the bottle of fire-strength hot sauce again – it was still in the middle of their table, and the group was completely distracted.

Matt took two quick steps, grabbed the bottle, then squeezed it and sprayed the red stuff into their faces. They screamed and covered themselves. Matt turned around and sprinted toward the doorway.

“Get him!”

Matt noticed the leather jacket in the blonde girl’s lap. He stopped, grabbed it, then went for the doorway again. Before he crossed outside, he turned around, and returned for the blonde.

“Hey,” she said.

Matt grabbed the blonde girl by the hand, then took her with him as he ran for it. He could hear the chairs and tables flipping from the group chasing after him.

To be continued…

Thomas M. Watt

Epic Night Out: Part 1

geek night

It was supposed to be one round of drinks. No girls, no wild night out, no arrests. No shots, no bong hits, no midgets. A drink between two bros who had grown so accustomed to the comfort of their former long-term girlfriends they didn’t know the first thing about what it meant to ‘go out’.

But it wasn’t.

It was more.

A lot more.

Matt took the stool at the end of the bar and Keith followed suit.

“One beer. That’s it,” said Keith.

“I get it dude. You’ll be watching t.v. at your place in no time, don’t even worry about it.

Keith scoffed.

Matt ordered two beers and soon the close friends were sipping light beers as they watched the bloopers reel on the television behind the counter.

“I love these clips,” said Keith.

Matt nodded, took a handful of bar nuts, then tossed them in his mouth. He took a good look around the place as he chewed. About four girls, three of whom were surrounded by ‘pool guys’ and one who was sitting by herself, anxiously looking at her phone. ‘Pool guys’ were those guys who stood around the pool table leaning on the sticks, messing with their hair, and smiling at any girls who walked by in hopes they could get them in a game then impress them with their ‘stick skills’.

“What about her?” said Matt. He coughed after he said it, and for the first time noticed his mouth was starting to burn.

Kieth looked over. “What about her?”

“She’s hot.”

“I thought we said no girls.”

“You said no girls.”

Keith groaned and returned to his drink. “She’s waiting for her date to get here. She has no interest in meeting anyone.”

Matt turned to face her. She did look pretty invested in her phone.

“I’m gonna go over there and find out,” Matt said, then coughed. “These bar nuts are fucking hot.”

“I thought we said no girls!”

Matt smiled then pat Keith on the shoulder. “No my friend. You said no girls.”

Matt strode over to the girl as casually as possible. He kept one hand in his jean pocket and tried his best to ignore the intense burning his tongue was starting to feel. When he stopped at her table the blonde girl finally looked up. She eyed him up and down, twirled the curly lock dangling by her ear, then chewed her gum a little more obnoxiously and smirked.

Matt smirked back. An inviting smile was always a good sign.

“Hey beautiful. I noticed you from across the room and wondered,” said Matt, before stopping to cough. “I was wondering if you,” he said, before stopping again. The last few words he barely choked out.

“Yeah?” said the blonde girl. “Wondering if I what?” She raised her eyebrows.

Matt turned to the group of guys to the left of him. They were pointing and laughing at him. On the table in the middle of them sat a bottle of “Wild Dragon’s Flaming Hot Sauce.”

Matt stared back at them, then over to the peanuts on the bar counter, then back to them.

“Who’s this?” Said someone behind him.

A hand grabbed Matt by the shoulder and whirled him around. He looked up to see the giant figure in the leather jacket standing over him.

“I don’t know,” said the blonde girl, as she smacked her gum. “I think he’s hitting on me.”

“That right?” said the giant.

Matt looked over to the end of the bar for Keith – but Kieth was already gone.

“You pussy,” Matt muttered to himself. He gulped painfully, then rolled his fingers into his palm until he had a tightly clenched fist. He winced his eyes close and took one last breath. It was time for action.

To be continued…

– Thomas M. Watt

Bearded Sam Plays Poker

Image

Three men in suits were seated in a semi-circle around a poker table. They were playing Texas style Hold ‘Em, and were very advanced in their level of play. Interrupting their monotonous game, bearded Sam stumbled into their table.

“Mind if I join ya?” Bearded Sam collapsed into his seat, spilling his beer onto the green felt as he did.

The first hand he played, he went all-in before the flop.

The three suits all folded, but smirked to one another as they did, knowing full well a fish had sat down to play with them, and his money was theirs for the taking.

So the three suits got away from their normally tight-handed play, in order to entertain bearded Sam, in order to take advantage of his disregard for their more advanced level of play.

But something funny happened – The bearded Sam won. He won hand after hand, and pretty soon the suits were the ones making all the bad bets, and he was the one choosing his hands more carefully.

Twenty minutes later, the dude rounded up a three-hundred dollar pot, stood proud with his hands at his hips, and looked down to the three suits around him.

The three suits had no more chips and they all sat with their arms crossed, befuddled, and shaking their heads at one another as they complained at bearded Sam’s ridiculous luck.

Bearded Sam, however, set his beer on the table, ran a hand through his hair, then chuckled as he spoke.

“All you tools claim to know rules to play not with dice but statistics entice,

You to just think you don’t play against me like you’re not human too like you control what you do.

Well I’m lettin’ you in on one simple truth and that’s that men are more than you think,

That playin’ a game ‘gainst opponents like you is the easiest thing I ever damn do.

You’re boring as hell and mostly just tell all that you’ve got, before the pre-flop.

I know how you play and I know all you know, and I know pretty damn well just how that play goes.

So I come here and sit down today like a damn drunk man livin’ in decay.

And lo and behold well what d’ya know, you got off your game like you’d a been paid!

Story is simple I’ll tell how it goes – that the truth of the matter is the greatest expose,

The weak of the masses the error of the many, the fact that most people prefer what’s just gravy.

But people like me they’re wild you see, don’t care too much ’bout suits like you fucks.

Instead I just go on studying all a you, findin’ out how to somehow expound,

The thought of the many, all just like you, the thought that you’re better because a what you all do.

I play that to my advantage as you surely have seen I come here and act like a dumb hillbilly,

All just to get you to go off your game all just so you think I lost my own name.

Meanwhile you all been suckin’ your thumbs, eager with greed to catch on my flubs,

Bet you didn’t notice just how you been played, that the whole time my plays gettin’ paid,

That gives me power to come here and say, that dude drunk as Hell just fucked up your day!”

Bearded Sam raised his empty beer mug, wished them all cheers, then left.

– Thomas M. Watt

McWatty9 Interview

Hello everybody, my name is Thomas M. Watt, established poet, and eloquent novelist. I am sitting alongside McWatty9 today, who was supposed to hold a press conference and answer many questions in regard to the state of Wattie nation. Unfortunately, ‘The Watties’ appear very weak at this point, and issued no questions themselves. Therefore, I have chosen to interview the infamous McWatty9 myself. Let us begin.

Thomas M. Watt – McWatty9, I would first like to thank you for joining me today, and would like to congratulate you on bringing multiple bloggers to laugh quite hysterically at some of your recent posts.

McWatty9 – Yeah well I don’t have shit to do tonight so it’s really not that big of a deal. But the bloggers who laughed hard weren’t just normal bloggers Tommy boy, they were actually hot girls.

Thomas M. Watt – Oh, well… that’s good to know. So McWatty9, where do you get the ideas for your skits? I mean, some of them are very creative.

McWatty9 – Well Tommy, I’ll tell you. Often times when I’m breathing, I like to think. Sometimes when I think, I get these… ideas. And then I write them down.

Thomas M. Watt – Haha. No doubt this is a taste of your sarcasm?

McWatty9 – No. Is there a different way or something?

Thomas M. Watt – Well, I don’t know, you just state things so plainly. Moving on, there was a blog you posted earlier this week pertaining to paintball guns and go carts. By the name of several of your tags, you seemed to be ashamed of the posting. Why?

McWatty9 – Well, you see Tommy boy, a lot of times when you outline dumbass shit for people to do, several dipshits actually go out and try it.

Thomas M. Watt – Oh?

McWatty9 – Yeah, it’s true.

Thomas M. Watt – Interesting, to say the least. Holding your press conference last night, did you ever think you might be better off hiding your level of intoxication, rather than making it so apparent to the public?

McWatty9 – No Tommy.

Thomas M. Watt – Why not?

McWatty9 – Because I was fucked up. In fact, often times when I drink, I do many things that at the time seem like a good idea, and then wake up and realize they weren’t such a good idea.

Thomas M. Watt – Oh? Care to elaborate?

McWatty9 – Sure. Often times, I enjoy approaching woman and doing such things as hitting on them, flirting with them, and then thinking up various techniques to take them to the sack.

Thomas M. Watt – Oh?

McWatty9 – Yes. You see, this strange feeling comes over me, and it launches me into predatorily mode. I look around the room for strictly the most good looking of the bunch, then I approach them, and then I talk to them, and then I buy them a drink.

Thomas M. Watt – And how does this ‘technique’ work out for you?

McWatty9 – It really depends, you know.

Thomas M. Watt – Depends on what?

McWatty9 – How long I am willing to pretend like I’m still interested. The funniest thing happens, where the skanks I court begin to disgust me, because I realize that, at times, I’m not actually talking to a person, but a walking manual for what someone should act like in a social setting.

Thomas M. Watt – Hmm. Do go on.

McWatty9 – Well, there seems to be this personality type that ninety percent or more of the population strives to pretend to be. Upon realizing I’ve met another clone, even in my fucked-up-ness, I realize I still have no interest in dating a picture cut out from a magazine.

Thomas M. Watt – Really?

McWatty9 – Yes. Usually, my courting lasts up until I begin to make sarcastic remarks in response to the skank’s preference to appear as something more than she is. That seems to be the end for me, as I can only kiss an ass so many times, before my lips can no longer move, and my ears begin to burn with every word I hear.

Thomas M. Watt – Don’t you think such a view is somewhat sexist?

McWatty9 – Not really. Skankism is a disease Tom, not a gender type. Are you sexist?

Thomas M. Watt – I write poetry.

McWatty9 – Oh, right. You’re like that weirdo in the corner waiting by the ladies room.

Thomas M. Watt – What? No. That’s a terrible accusation.

McWatty9 – It’s not an accusation Tommy boy, it’s an assumption. Only creeps write poems.

Thomas M. Watt – You are beginning to offend me, McWatty9.

McWatty9 – Oh, well… Sorry.

Thomas M. Watt – It’s alright, I understand you enjoy making people laugh.

McWatty9 – Yes, and you enjoy creeping on woman because you are a pervert. We each have our own ways.

Thomas M. Watt – I’m beginning to dislike you the more I get to know you.

McWatty9 – And I’m beginning to think you’re a bit of a pussy.

Thomas M. Watt – McWatty9, I’m not going to empower you by responding to that. This interview is over.

McWatty9 – Tommy boy, I’m sorry, you know I didn’t mean that seriously.

Thomas M. Watt – Ha, well, I can never quite tell with you McWatty9. Thanks for coming today.

(Handshake)

McWatty9 – And thanks for making a joke about ejaculation to finish it you perverted creep.