Another Stupid Excerpt from metten’s Book

2010 March 9
by mockers

So anyway, I am trying to get this thing published and the powers that be aren’t exactly fighting over me.  So I figured I’d take care of that by posting an excerpt about a drunken beef jerky eating contest and then I’d sit back and wait for the offers to come in…That’s how this business works right?  Hello?

“Hey bitches! We need some jerky!” screamed the first man through the door. Jike struggled to stand up. The man stopped and gaped at Carolyn, his entire existence moving in waves. “But you guys need some beef,” he said as he pointed. The drunk’s finger remained on Carolyn as his eyes attempted to focus on Jike.

“Except that guy. He’s had enough beef. And enough jerky. This guy’s had too much everything!” Jike steadied himself on the counter and motioned toward the remaining men.

“Subjugate your friend or I’ll summon the authorities,” said Jike calmly. The drunk continued staring at Jike.

“You subjugate your thyroid gland or I’ll call a bariatric physician,” replied the drunk, who was now pointing at Jike. Carolyn sat up with intrigue. One of the drunk’s friends shrugged casually.

“Sorry man, he’s pre-med,” apologized the friend. “Please just direct us to the beef jerky and we’ll get out of your hair.” Jike exhaled loudly.

“The dried beef is situated at the end of that passageway, athwart from the coolers,” said Jike.

You fart,” said the drunk as he ran to the jerky. The drunk’s friends watched as he loaded his arms with an end cap full of jerky.

“Forgive me for asking guys,” said Carolyn, “but what are you going to do with all that beef jerky?”

“I love jerky,” said the drunk. “I want it inside me.”

“He loves jerky,” repeated one of the men who had been mute until now. “Apparently he wants it inside him. He’s gonna eat all the jerky in the place. Don’t worry; he’s got a credit card to pay for it.”

“Does he possess a cellular telephone that he might use to summon an ambulance?” asked Jike. Nearly everyone nodded as the drunk dropped the shrink-wrapped meat on his counter. Jike looked down at the meat, looked up at the drunk and then looked at his friends.

“Is this man driving?” asked Jike.

“What’re you gonna do? Refuse to sell him the meat?” asked one of the friends. Jike looked to Carolyn, who retorted with a shrug. Jike rang up the purchase as fast as he could.

“Fifty-six seventeen,” said Jike. “Will that be cash, check or charge?”

“The answer is charge my good man,” hollered the drunk. Jike took the card and scanned it. He put the meat in a sack as he waited for the register to approve the transaction. The drunk offered a wavy line in lieu of an actual signature and took off with the meat.

“Ohhh jerky, I want you inside me!” he yelled as he escaped the Clarenceoco at top speed. His friends shuffled out behind, laughing amongst themselves. Jike and Carolyn stared at each other silently as they waited for the guys to clear the property.

“I wish to express my gratitude for your assistance,” said Jike sarcastically.

“If anyone on this planet has an appropriate comeback for drunk medical students in a jerky eating contest, I would imagine it’s you,” replied Carolyn.

“Perhaps I’m losing my touch,” said Jike. He pondered for a moment and shrugged. “One cannot bedevil oneself with such concerns…time to mop.” Jike walked back to a small closet and rolled out a yellow plastic mop bucket and pushed it next to the bathroom door.

“I’ve been hanging out here with you forever and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mop once,” said Carolyn.

“It’s more of an exercise in mental conditioning than mopping really,” replied Jike.

“You don’t actually mop, do you?” asked Carolyn.

“Negative, my dear convenience store companion,” said Jike.

“Let me guess, you coat the bucket and mop with a little bit of water right before Clarence comes in in the morning?”

“That is affirmative,” said Jike.

“He becometh poor that dealeth with a slack hand: but the hand of the diligent maketh rich,” said Carolyn.

“I don’t ever recall professing a desire to be rich,” replied Jike. “Besides, faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.”

“I don’t think that’s what they meant,” replied Carolyn.

“I beg to differ,” said Jike. “Clarence himself accepted this identical explanation last week.”

“You’re terrible,” laughed Carolyn. “Even for a Universalist.”

Jike and Carolyn perked their ears toward a commotion in Clarence’s parking lot. A high-pitched laugh projected over what sounded like the constant low grumble of men’s voices. Carolyn sat up and jumped to her feet. The freezer squeaked as the shift in weight caused it to jerk forward. Carolyn walked to the glass door and looked out.

“Holy cow, Jike. It’s those guys. They’re doing the jerky contest in the parking lot!” exclaimed Carolyn. Jike pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward the door.

“I cannot truthfully say that this turn of events was unexpected,” said Jike calmly. “I suppose I’ll convoke the authorities.” As Jike reached toward the handle, the drunk reappeared, running from the side of the building and blasting his entire body through the door.

Jike spun around in a futile effort to remain on his feet. Carolyn could only watch as the drunk sprinted past and Jike jumbled awkwardly to the ground. The drunk was still running as he grabbed the knob and attempted to push with his shoulder. His hand spun around the stationary hardware as he slammed into the locked door and dropped to the floor. Both men struggled to stand.

“You need a key,” said Jike.

“Jerky doesn’t wanna be inside of me!” yelled the man as he crawled to the plastic yellow container. Carolyn shut her eyes and plugged her ears hard with her index fingers. The drunk ferociously cleared the evening’s digestive history into Clarence’s mop bucket.

“You need a key,” Jike repeated in defeat as he watched the drunk hurl for what seemed like an eternity. When it seemed as though it was over, Carolyn unplugged her ears and extended her hand to Jike. He accepted her hand, stood up and headed toward the phone.

The drunk stood synchronically, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and staggered to the door.

“Sorry man. Jerky was a bitch. I’ll clean it up in the morning,” said the kid as he stumbled into the parking lot. Jike abandoned the phone and followed him outside. The wheels of a black muscle car chirped as the car entered the roadway heading east. Jike squinted in an effort to make out the alphanumeric pattern on the license plate. He exhaled in frustration as he realized they were illegible from such a distance. Jike exhaled again when he spied the pile of wrappers scattered amongst unopened meat sleeves. He struggled to breathe as he bent over, picked up the empty wrappers and deposited them into the trash containers that stood less than six feet away. Jike walked back into Clarence’s.

“Did ya get ‘em?” asked Carolyn excitedly. Jike did not answer. He walked behind the counter, grabbed a plastic bag and headed back outside.

“You need a key,” Jike said to himself as he struggled to bend over and pick up the unopened product. He estimated that they had only eaten about ten bucks worth of product. Jike opened a stick of “spicy teriyaki” and thought as he chewed. He decided that this might not be such a horrible turn of events. Jike could return the product to the shelf, show the receipt to Clarence and clear his debt completely. Now he had to do something about the booze, bile and masticated jerky that was fermenting in Clarence’s mop bucket.

“He paid with a credit card,” said Carolyn as Jike shuffled inside. “Look at the receipt.” Jike returned to his seat behind the counter and hit the “no sale” button. The register’s drawer shot open and Jike snatched up the pile of credit card receipts that had amassed throughout his shift.

“His name is Tabor Johnston,” said Jike, “although I am not particularly interested in justice.”

“You should be,” replied Carolyn. “It’s starting to smell like puke and beer in here.” Jike walked around the counter again and made his way toward the bucket. He looked away and held his breath as he grabbed the handle of the wringer and quickly rolled it toward the door. Jike pulled the door open and rolled the bucket into the parking lot. He bowled it hard toward the dumpster and headed back into the store before its final resting place was decided.

“You’re just going to leave it there?” asked Carolyn.

“By the grace of God, Clarence’s pail will become unsullied without my travail,” answered Jike.

“You’re asking God to clean out the mop bucket full of a drunk pre-med student’s jerky vomit?” asked Carolyn. At that moment a clap of thunder descended upon Melville…

4 Responses leave one →
  1. 2010 March 9

    Thank god it wasn’t balut eating contest and san miguel. Wait, I did that one! Oh god, I’ll never do that again!

  2. 2010 March 9

    “Jerky doesn’t want to be inside me!” That’s fantastic. I will definitely quote this the next time I get drunk at Metten’s house and have to puke. How’s this weekend, for ya?

  3. 2010 March 9
    Will permalink

    Although I’m a huge fan of, this was unreadable drivel and possibly the worst assembly of words I have ever seen.

  4. 2010 March 10

    LMAO, that was very funny.

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