(I was on YouTube and saw this video when an idea came to me. I should do this skit. It's been a while since I've done them. And so here we are. Enjoy. Also I'm not adding the laughter part.)
-
???: Another story I heard about myself. This one happened in High School. Uhh- We had this teacher in High School who's kid went to our High School. His name was Mr. McNamera (However you spell the name) and his son Jacob McNamera went to our High School. He was a Sophomore when I was a Senior, so he was two years behind me. And Mr. McNamera was an asshole. And one weekend, he and his wife decided to leave town, which you should never do if you're an asshole. And Jacob McNamera decided to throw a party at the teacher's house. Hooray! And everyone around town heard about it, and we all got up individually and thought, Okay, let's go over there and destroy the place. I walked into this party. Everyone I had ever met was there. And everyone was drinking like it was the end of the world. People were drinking like it was the Civil War and a doctor was coming in to saw our legs off. It was totally unsupervised. We were like dogs without horses. We were running wild. I walk down- I walk down to the basement, they had a pool table in the basement. One dude took a running start and threw his body onto the pool table and broke it in half. Another kid found out which room was Mr. McNamera's and went upstairs and took a shit on his computer. So the party was going great. I'm standing in the basement and I'm holding a red cup, you've seen movies, and I'm standing there. And I'm holding a red cup, and I'm starting to black out. And I guess someone said like, "Something, something, police." And in a brilliant moment of word association, I yelled, "Fuck Da Police! Fuck Da Police!" And everyone else joined in. A hundred drunk, white children yelling, Fuck. Da. Police. With a confidence of guys who have like already been to jail and aren't afraid of it anymore. You know that, I served my nickel, you come and take me, kind of confidence. But white children. The reason someone had said, "Something, something, police," was because the police were there. So Chicago police officer, walked down the stairs and got to the bottom of the basement and looked out over a sea of drunk toddlers yelling, Fuck Da Police, in his face. And he was almost impressed. He was like, wow. And then he leaned into his walkie-talkie and went, get the paddy-wagon. And my friend Alex, who is now a father, this man now has a baby. He grabbed a forty (Idk), smashed it on the ground and yelled, "Scatter!" And everyone ran in a different direction. We all ran in different directions. It was like that scene in Ratatouille when the humans come in the kitchen and all the rats going in different ways. We all ran in different directions. I ran in the laundry room and I jumped up on the washing machine and I crawled out through a window into the backyard and know I'm running through the backyard and there was this big chain-linked fence and I thought, I've never climbed a fence that high before. And then I woke up at home. On Monday, I went to school because that was something we did back then. And I walk into the school building and who do I see? That Jacob McNamera. He says to me, "Hey, were you at my party on Saturday?" And I said, "No." You know, like a liar. And he said, "Well things got really out of hand. Someone broke the pool table. S-Someone took a shit on dad's computer. But the worse thing is, the worse thing is that someone stole all these old antique photos of my grandmother. And my parents are freaking out about it." And I had that thought, that only black-out drunks and Steve Urkel can have, Di-Did I do that? I figured, No. I wouldn't have done that. But I was never sure. Until two years later. Relax. I'm playing video games with this kid named Jack that we also went to High School with. Two years later, we've graduated by now. We're playing video games for a couple of hours. And then Jack says to me, "Hey, come here. I want to show you something." And he takes me into his bedroom. And then he takes me into a side room off of his bedroom. Never a good thing to have. And he shows me a tiny room that is covered wall-to-wall in stolen antique photos from different people's party's over the years. And I said, "Why? Why do you do this?" And Jack said, "Because it's the one thing you can't replace." That's the end of that story but how fucked up is that, right? That's crazy! So I don't drink anymore.
(It took me a while but it's done. Feel free to recommend things for me to do. Until then, goodbye!)
