Tag Archives: writers

Toilet Gator – Chapter 97

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The sky was gray and overcast as winds whipped the palm trees outside the mall to and fro. Sharon banged a right out of the parking lot, floored it down the mall access road and merged onto Route 199. Cole rocked back and forth in the trunk, sending Angry Barracuda blasts Skippy’s way whenever he found a brief moment of steadiness.

Rusty, on the other hand, pumped bullets at the gator without aiming. The monster was a big enough target that the redhead figured they would land somewhere on that big scaly frame yet they continued to just bounce off.

The NN1 news van pulled up on Sharon’s right. Natalie was behind the wheel, as it was Walter’s turn to shine. The cameraman slid open the side door and with one hand firmly grasping a handle attached to the can’s interior, he leaned out and pointed a camera at the chase.

“Hold it steady!” Walter shouted.

“Me?” Natalie asked as she swerved all over the run. She’d never had a reason to drive that fast before. “You hold it steady!”

“I am!” Walter cried.

Natalie juggled between the wheel in her left hand and her cell phone in her right. She held the mobile device up to her ear and argued with Kurt Manley’s producer. “Do I sound like a give a shit if Kurt’s interviewing Stank Daddy, Dan? Either you patch our feed through now or you get your resume ready because you’ll be the guy that didn’t cut to a high speed chase involving a Goddamn toilet gator!”

“Get off the phone and grab the wheel!” Walter shouted.

“Don’t tell me how to do my job!” Natalie yelled.

Sharon darted through traffic, passing cars left and right. “Passing” wasn’t an idea that Skippy was remotely interested in. He chomped and rammed his way through cars, buses, and trucks, turning them into mere hunks of twisted metal in his wake.

Natalie fell behind but in time, she sped up and kept pace with Sharon.

Cole reached into a duffel bag inside the trunk and pulled out the six-pack. He aimed it at Skippy’s head and pulled the trigger. “Fire in the hole!”

Kaboom! The alligator was briefly set ablaze. He slowed down, shook it off, and soon, was galloping full speed.

“Holy shit,” Cole said. “He’s like a big green tank.”

“Just like the first Mrs. Walker,” Rusty said.

“Rusty,” Sharon shouted. “I swear to God I will throw you out of this car!”

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Seventeen Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays

Can you believe I’ve been working on Toilet Gator for so long?

It’s actually winding down.  We’re approaching the climactic final chapters where Cole finally fights the toilet gator.

I can’t wait, can you?

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The Real McCoy – “Oh Look At Me, I’m Bookshelf Q. Battler and I Have a New Book”

By: Leo McCoy, the Man Who Once Delivered a Sandwich to James Van Der Beek

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Howdy do, 3.5 readers.  Howdy do indeed.

Boy oh boy, Bookshelf Q. Battler sure is insufferable lately, isn’t he?  He’s walking around East Randomtown with his chest all puffed out like he’s the cock of the walk, telling everyone he sees, “Hey, I just published a book on Amazon and you should go download it for free this weekend.”  I bet the guy will even turn that last quote into a hyperlink.  Dang, BQB, you’re such a predictable tool bag.

Sure, it’s a big milestone for our favorite nerd but holy crap nuggets, you know what else is a big achievement?  Delivering a sandwich to James Van Der Beek but did I go around telling everyone about it?

OK.  Yes I did.  I told like thousands of people and still do to this very day.  But I didn’t write a book about it.  I tried to, but all the publishers I sent a pitch letter to rejected me on account of the fact they didn’t think I’d be able to squeeze more than a chapter out about my chance encounter with JVDB.  (That’s what we Van Der Beek Tweakers call ourselves.)

Joke’s on the traditional publishing industry.  They didn’t think I’d be able to squeeze out more than a chapter?  Hell, I’ve squeezed out an entire lifetime’s worth of satisfaction and happiness out of that one meeting.  Double hell, a freight train could collide with my face tomorrow and I’d shout, “I regret nothing, for I met James Van Der Beek!”

Oh la dee da, all the East Randomtownsfolk are up BQB’s butt with a coconut, peddling a bunch of trash talk about how BQB is now officially the most famous man in East Randomtown because he put up a book on Amazon and gave away a few free copies, which, let’s be honest here, because there’s no doubt in my mind that all the free copies BQB has given away so far are being downloaded by his Aunt Gertie.

Tarnation, I wish I had my own Aunt Gertie.  Maybe then I’d have the self-confidence I need to start my own blog and get my own 3.5 readers.  Nah, that doesn’t mean I’m jealous of BQB.  What’s there to be jealous of?  BQB never met James Van Der Beek.

Wait, do you think BQB will get to meet James Van Der Beek now that he’s a big time fancy pants Amazon Kindle author?  Son of a monkey stink, I better up my game.

I know what I got to do now.  I have got to deliver a sandwich to that kid who played Pacey.  Anyone remember his name?  Aw hell, who could remember anything when you’re mind is clouded with images of JVDB’s flaxen hair and steamy come hither eyes?

Not that I’m gay or nothin.’

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 92

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Rusty brushed his teeth with Cole’s toothbrush, a move that did not strike him as the least bit disgusting. He rinsed his mouth out with water, then walked into a spare bedroom, only to be screamed at by an old lady.

“Holy shit, Maude!” Rusty shouted. “I had no idea you could move like that.”

“Get out!” Maude shouted.

Rusty grabbed the door knob, gave Burt a thumb’s up, then shut the door behind him. He walked through Cole’s living room to a second spare bedroom only to find, to his great surprise, Moses and Felix in bed, bare chested and hugging each other.

“Whoa!” Rusty cried out.

Moses and Felix sat up in bed, yanking the covers up over their bare chests.

“Don’t you knock?!” Moses shouted.

“I’m sorry, amigos,” Rusty said. “Didn’t know this room was occupado. I’m just going to go crash on the couch, so…”

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Moses said.

“That’s cool,” Rusty said. “I’m just gonna go.”

“We’re not gay,” Moses said.

“Not a problem if you are,” Rusty said. “It’s 2017.”

“We just like to snuggle,” Moses said.

Rusty’s heart pounded. Every 1980s love ballad he’d ever heard before poured through his mind. “Come again?”

“We’re heteronormative cuddle queer sexuals,” Moses said.

Rusty clutched his chest. “Oh my God. It really is a thing.”

“Of course it is, bigot,” Moses said. “It’s 2017. Every thing is a thing.”

“No,” Rusty said as he stepped further into the room. “It’s just, I thought I was the only one.”

“You mean you’re a heteronormative cuddle queer sexual too?” Moses asked.

“Yes,” Rusty said. “I recently learned that about myself after snuggling a gay man.”
Moses squirted some lotion of Felix’s shoulders and gave his buddy a good, hard rubdown. “You snuggled a gay man? You homo!”

“No!” Rusty said. “It wasn’t like that. We just, you know, did what you guys are doing.”

“Aint nothing wrong with it,” Moses said.

“No there isn’t,” Rusty said.

“We’re just two red blooded heterosexual males providing each other with a little warmth and comfort,” Moses said. “We saw a lot of shit in the war so, you know, sometimes ole Felix here is the only one I feel like I can talk to, even though he won’t talk back to me.”

“That’s really nice,” Rusty said.

Felix nodded, then closed his hands and enjoyed the back rub.

“Of course, I’d blow my brains out before I’d ever let a pecker get anywhere near my backdoor,” Moses said. “Felix feels the same way, don’t you Felix?”

Felix nodded.

“Me too!” Rusty said. “I don’t want any gay sex.”

“I should hope not,” Moses said. “That’s the devil’s work right there.”

“And I still love pussy,” Rusty said.

“Oh hell, Felix and I are pussy magnets,” Moses said. “All we gotta do is belly up to the bar, I start telling our war stories and before you know it, we’re buried under all the poontang.”

“Damn it,” Rusty said. “I wish I had some good war stories so I could get buried under a sea of poontang.”

“You’re a cop, aint you?” Moses asked. “Bitches love a man in uniform.”

“Yeah,” Rusty said. “I don’t have any good stories though.”

“Make some shit up,” Moses said. “The ladies won’t ever know.”

“You think so?” Rusty asked.

“Damn straight,” Moses said. “You gotta get that pussy any way you can get it, boy.”

“Cool,” Rusty said as he headed for the door. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to it.”

Moses patted the bed. “You want in on this, buddy?”

Rusty pivoted around. “Excuse me?”
“This aint our first rodeo, boy,” Moses said. “Felix and I have been in a three-way man snuggle sandwich before.”

“You have?” Rusty asked.

“Shit yeah,” Moses said. “What do you thing happens at the conventions?”

Rusty’s jaw dropped. “There are conventions?”

“Shoot,” Moses said. “You don’t know much about this, do you boy? Hell yeah, there are all sorts of conventions and organizations dedicated to male on male snuggling. Why, Felix and I have been thinking about starting our own club for heteronormative cuddle queer sexuals right here in Sitwell.”

“I’d like to join that club,” Rusty said. “I really would.”

“Well,” Moses said as he patted the shed. “Time’s a wastin’ boy. Don’t be shy.”

Rusty stepped closer to the bed, then stopped. “Is this promiscuous?”

“What?” Moses asked.

“I just figured out I’m into male on male snuggling,” Rusty said. “I don’t know if I should run around snuggling just anyone.”

“Oh come on,” Moses said. “Don’t be a prude. We’re just cuddling. It’s not like anything is going into anywhere.”

“Well,” Rusty said as he hopped into bed right between Moses and Felix. “When you put it that way. What’s first, fellas? Tickle fight?”

“Normally, yes, but we have to help Cole kill a toilet gator tomorrow,” Moses said.

“Oh right,” Moses said. “Tickle blocked by the toilet gator.”

Moses wrapped his arms around Rusty’s left side. Felix did the same to Rusty’s right. Both men stared at Rusty intently while he focused his eyes on the ceiling.

“How’s that?” Moses asked.

Rusty shuddered in ecstacy. “So good.”

“Goodnight, meat,” Moses said as he and Felix closed their eyes.

“Meat?” Rusty asked.

“Yeah,” Moses said. “You’re the meat in this man sandwich. Felix and I are the buns.”

Rusty laughed. “Oh yeah. Good night, buns.”
“Just don’t think about going anywhere near our buns,” Moses said.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Rusty said.

“Good,” Moses said. “Because we’re not gay.”

“Me neither,” Rusty said.

“That’s gross,” Moses said.

“Totally disgusting,” Rusty said.

Rusty looked up at the ceiling for a while. “Felix’s feet are like a couple of popsicles.”

“Yeah,” Moses said. “He tends to run cold.”

After a few minutes, Moses and Felix fell asleep. Alas, rest evaded Rusty, for he was so excited to learn that he wasn’t the only heteronormative cuddle queer sexual in the world but rather, there were many like-minded men out there that he could enjoy his newly discovered reason for being with. He lied awake for hours, safely wrapped up in two sets of man arms until Cole bursted into the room around seven a.m.

“Hey Rusty,” Cole said. “It’s time to…what the?!”

Moses, Rusty, and Felix all sat up, yanking the covers over their bare chests.

“Don’t you knock?” Moses asked.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Rusty shouted. “We’re not gay!”

“Whatever,” Cole said as he walked out of the room. “I’ll be in the car.”

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Toilet Gator – Chapter 90

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The gang gathered around Cole’s kitchen table, finalizing their plans for the next day as they stared at a map of Sitwell.

“Everyone know where they’re supposed to be?” Cole asked.

“Yeah,” Maude said. “I should be on a beach in Hawaii with a Mai Tai in my hand. I’m too old for this.”

Burt, though still a Grover County Sheriff’s deputy, had joined in. “Me too.”

“What if the gator doesn’t take the bait?” Rusty asked.

“I think he will,” Natalie said. “When this all began, Buford sent me a text that stuck with me. ‘I am not in control.’ I’m not sure he ever was.”

“The alligator sounded like he was the boss when I caught them arguing,” Rusty said.

“And I think the alligator was making him text me,” Natalie said. “He loves the limelight.”

“Shit,” Rusty said. “It’s the Kim Kardashian of alligators.”

“Animals get smarter with every generation,” Professor Lambert said. “And yet humans continue to be so arrogant as to assume we are the only intelligent life on earth.”

Moses chugged a beer and burped. “I don’t know about y’all but I think the most intelligent thing to do now is to get some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Cole said. “Everyone rest up. It’s a big day tomorrow.”

The gang milled about Cole’s house as Cole retired to his bedroom. He removed his pants, sat on the edge of his bed, then detached his prosthetic leg. He rubbed his stump and closed his eyes, only to open them when Sharon entered the room.

“Oh,” Cole said. “Sorry, I should take the couch and you can sleep in here.”

Sharon pressed her finger up to her lips. “Shh,” she said as she sat down next to her ex-husband.

Cole reached for his prosthetic only to have his hand pulled back by Sharon. “Leave it.”

“But I…”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Sharon said.

“It bothers me,” Cole replied.

“It shouldn’t,” Sharon said.
Sharon and Cole stared into each others’ eyes for a spell before they shared a deep, passionate kiss.

“We shouldn’t,” Cole said.

Sharon grabbed the back of Cole’s head and pulled it closer to hers. “We should.”

“No,” Cole said as he pulled back. “What’s done is done.”

Sharon sighed. “Why do you think I left you?”

“This isn’t the time to get into this,” Cole said.

“It’s the perfect time,” Sharon said. “If something happens to one of us tomorrow…”

“It won’t,” Cole said.

“But if it does…”

Cole flopped back on the bed. “Fine. What do you want me to say, Sharon? ‘I’m sorry I decided to be the big hero.’ Is that what you want me to say? Do you need me to say our divorce was my fault so you’ll feel better? Fine. It was my fault.”

“I never thought it was your fault,” Sharon said.

“It was,” Cole said. “You married a strapping young man and you didn’t sign on for a gimp with a fake leg. I put myself in danger. I got my leg bitten off by the dog from hell. You didn’t sign on to take care of a cripple for the rest of your life so the second you heard about what happened to me, you ran. I don’t blame you. I blame myself.”

“That’s what you think happened?” Sharon asked.

“I know it’s what happened,” Cole said.

“You don’t know anything,” Sharon said.

“I know had the situation been reversed I wouldn’t have left you,” Cole said. “You could have gotten mangled in a car accident and ended up as nothing more than a talking head and I would have stayed with you for the rest of your life.”

“That’s…gross…and sweet at the same time,” Sharon said. “But mostly gross.”

“I’d of put your head in a duffel bag,” Cole said. “Taken you on long walks across the beach, bought you fresh tomatoes at the farmer’s market.”

Sharon plopped back in the bed next to Cole. “Oh my God. It’s been so long since we’ve been to the farmer’s market.”

“I would have waxed your head,” Cole said. “Propped it up in front of the television…”
Sharon chuckled. “Stop.”

“I would have gotten your head a special pillow…”

Sharon turned serious. “Cole I didn’t leave you because you lost your leg. I didn’t even find out about it until a month later when I read about it in the newspaper – that story about the benefit that Sitwell PD threw to raise money for your medical bills. You ever wonder who donated that five grand?”

Cole’s eyes widened. “That was you? I always thought it was Chief Haskell.”

Sharon nodded.

“Whatever,” Cole said. “Like that makes things better.”

“I put in my application with the FBI during my first year in law school,” Sharon said. “I never heard back from them until a week before I left. They contacted me out of the blue and told me to report to Quantico for training and that there was an appointment to the Miami field office in store for me. I kept trying to work up the courage to tell you but I knew in my heart you love this stupid hillbilly town and there was no way you’d be happy in Miami.”

“Bullshit,” Cole said. “Even if that’s true, you had no right to make that decision for me. I would have followed you.”

“And you would have been miserable,” Sharon said.

“You don’t know that,” Cole said.

“I know it because I’m miserable,” Sharon said. “Bright lights. Big city. Adventure. Excitement. I thought I wanted it all, Cole, but now that I’m forty I’m…”

“Tired?” Cole asked.

“Tired as fuck,” Sharon answered. “I just want those days back where we used to wake up late on Sunday mornings and go to the farmer’s market to buy fresh tomatoes, blueberries, oranges, strawberries and shit.”

Cole laughed.

“I’m not joking,” Sharon said. “Every day I go to work and there’s a new disaster waiting for me. There’s a new killer on the loose, or some psychopath threatening to blow up a building with all the people inside, or a kidnapping, or a big bank heist. I go to sleep every night and dream about opening up our own booth at the farmer’s market like we talked about.”

“We said that we’d do that when we’re older,” Cole said.

Sharon rubbed her hand against Cole’s cheek. “Newsflash dummy. We’re older.”

Cole rolled over onto his side. “I’m sorry you feel bad about leaving. I don’t think there’s anything I can say to make you feel better, and I can say you shouldn’t have done it until I turn blue and pass out but that wouldn’t make me feel better.”

Sharon rolled over on her side and draped her arm over Cole, spooning him. Cole sighed. He enjoyed it but at the same time, he didn’t. He feared the excitement would fizzle and lead to nothing.

“There was another reason why I left,” Sharon said.

“Oh God,” Cole said. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

“I can’t get pregnant,” Sharon blurted out.

Cole rolled over on his back and faced Sharon. “What?”

“I had a physical a month before I left,” Sharon said. “Turns out I can’t have children.”

“And,” Cole said. “So…what?”

“I knew you wanted children,” Sharon said. “Hell, I wanted children, but I knew you’d be disappointed.”

“I…I wouldn’t have…”

“I know you wouldn’t have,” Sharon said. “I felt like if I stayed I’d be holding you back. If I left, then I could be the bad guy in your mind and you’d be none the wiser. I assumed you’d bounce back quick and find someone else, someone who could give you what you wanted. I never knew you’d…”

“Wallow all alone in a cesspool of my own self-pity for a decade?” Cole asked.

“You said,” Sharon said. “Not me. Cole, you need to believe me, when I left that morning, I had no idea what was going to happen to you that day and after I found out I just…”

“What?” Cole asked.

“It didn’t change anything,” Sharon said. “I still wanted the fast paced FBI lifestyle. I still couldn’t have kids. I figured even without the leg you’d still have no trouble finding someone but…”

Cole brushed his hand through Sharon’s hair. “…but she wouldn’t have been you.”

On that note, Cole and Sharon embraced and kissed wildly, filling themselves up on what they had been missing out on for so long. Sharon removed her shirt and began unhooking her bra when Cole threw out a question. “What about Gordon?”

“What about him?” Sharon asked.

“Is it right for us to…you know…so soon after his death?” Cole asked.

“Why not?” Sharon asked.

“Because,” Cole said. “You know…you two were…”

“We were what?” Sharon asked.

“Intimate,” Cole said. “Why are you making me spell it out?”

Sharon laughed.

“Doesn’t seem like an appropriate thing to make light of,” Cole said.

“Cole,” Sharon said. “Gordon was gay.”

“What?” Cole asked.

“Gordon was gay,” Sharon repeated.

“What?” Cole asked. “No, but he was…”

“Doing naked pushups in the motel room?” Sharon asked. “Yeah, I know. One of his more disgusting habits but hell, he put up with me clipping my toenails and leaving the clippings everywhere. I always meant to pick up later then I’d always forget. He’d step on them, make a big deal out of it.”

“But the wine?” Cole asked.

“I like a little wine in the evening,” Sharon said. “Big deal.”

“You called him studmuffin,” Cole said.

“Because he had a suitor who used to call him studmuffin,” Sharon said. “He used to call Gordon ‘studmuffin’ in front of everyone. It became a nickname.”

“So you two weren’t…”

“No,” Sharon said. “I don’t know, Cole. You know how it is when you have a partner. Sooner or later you spend so much time together you just end up feeling comfortable doing everything and front of each other. You and Rusty are the same way.”

“I would pop a cap in Rusty’s ass if he ever did naked pushups in front of me,” Cole said.

“It’s 2017, Cole,” Sharon said. “Naked pushups are nothing to feel ashamed of anymore.”

Cole seized his love and kissed her. “Maybe it’s time for me to do some naked pushups…”
Sharon giggled. “Oh, Mr. Walker…I thought you’d never ask…”

Cole’s phone was on the nightstand. It began to ring. He grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Cole,” Rusty said. “Callin’ from the other room.”

“I’m busy,” Cole said.

“Yeah,” Rusty said. “Check it, man. I’ve been meaning to tell you, Gordon was gay. I think you’ve still got an in with Sharon.”

“Shut up, Rusty,” Cole said as he flipped his phone shut and hurled it to the floor.

Cole and Sharon engaged in some foreplay for a while before Cole spoke up. “Leg on or off?”

“Off,” Sharon said.

“Fine,” Cole said. “But either you’re going to have to get on top or we’re going to need a big mound of pillows to prop me up baby.”

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sharon said.

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Toilet Gator – Network News One Transcript #8

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Network News One Transcript #8

KURT MANLEY: Witnesses on the scene report the bank robbers took off all their clothes and had a menage a trios right there in the vault with nothing but their socks and ski masks on. Authorities had no idea whether to break the orgy up or let it run its course so they just hanged back and pretended to not notice anything was going on until it was all over. Legal experts say it’ll be quite some time before the bandits will be eligible for parole. In other news, Schmo Tech just released a brand new version of the Schmo Phone. Dubbed the Schmo Phone 12, it promises all sorts of advanced apps and features to justify the price hike. One of NN1’s Hot Ass Blonde Chicks with Big Titties interviewed the legion of nerds camped outside the Big Apple’s Schmo Store, waiting to be one of the first geeks to get their hands on the device.

(Cut to a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, interviewing a nerd outside the Schmo Store in Times Square.)

RANDOM NERD: I’ve been a Schmo my whole life. I’ll always be a Schmo. Schmo Tech rules.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: But didn’t the Schmo Phone 11.9 just come out last Tuesday?

RANDOM NERD: Yes and it was awesome. I loved it.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: So why spend your money on a new version today?

RANDOM NERD: Because the Schmo Phone 11.9 is now an obsolete piece of garbage ready for the landfill. Schmo Phone 12 is where it’s at.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: But it’s only been about a week or so.

RANDOM NERD: Ugh. Don’t remind me. No one should ever be stuck with the same phone for more than a week. I mean, serious, what are we, cave people?

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: Do you think there might be some profiteering involved? For example, this new Schmo Phone requires the user to buy a brand new charger and a brand new set of ear phones. Was it really necessary for these accessory ports to change?

RANDOM NERD: Of course. I totally trust the good people of Schmo Tech with all of my technology needs, and my personal information and the details of everything I’m searching the web for and the data behind everyone I’m calling and talking to and my daily schedule and all of my movements, where I’m going, what I’m doing, etc. There’s no way anyone at Schmo Tech would ever betray the trust that I have placed in them so blindly and carelessly.

(The Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties turns to the camera.)

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: Well, there you have it, Kurt. Schmo Tech loves nerds and nerds love Schmo Tech.

KURT MANLEY: Thanks, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties. Don’t forget to grab one of those phones for me.

(Kurt turns to a different camera.)

KURT MANLEY: Back to our main story, the humongous toilet gator who has every man, woman and child in the free world scared literally shitless. Have you all recovered since seeing that footage of the Mayor of Sitwell, Florida being devoured by a vicious lizard of gargantuan proportions? I have to admit, that sight made your favorite anchor’s stomach just a tad queasy. Meanwhile, you all might be too scared to shit, but the politicians are never too afraid to talk shit. President Vinny Stugotz and Florida Governor Brian Graysmith held a joint press conference in Tallahassee to address the toilet gator situation.

(Camera cuts to Governor Brian Graysmith behind a podium as a gaggle of reporters wave their hands about, looking to have their questions answered.)

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: Calm down, everyone. Calm down. Again, I’d like to remind you all that the one and only reason we are here today is to discuss the massive alligator that is currently on the loose, most likely on the run in our state’s sewer system and could very well be plotting to eat you and your loved ones while you defecate on the toilet. The President is a very busy man and I thank him for being here in Florida’s time of need. This is truly the darkest time period in our state’s history since we learned our chads were hanging. So please, limit your questions to the toilet gator and only the toilet gator and do not ask any questions about the ridiculous number of prostitutes I hired because if you do, you will be ignored. Yes, you! What’s your question?

RANDOM REPORTER #1: Governor, can you address allegations that you used public funds to pay for the ridiculous amount of hookers found in your hotel suite?

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: You will be ignored! Next question.

RANDOM REPORTER #2 – Governor, should everyone run around screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs, panicking like a bunch of escaped insane asylum lunatics until the toilet gator is subdued?

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: Yes, I think that would be…

(PRESIDENT STUGOTZ pushes Governor Graysmith aside and takes the podium.)

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: OK, that’s enough out of you, lightweight. I’m sorry, I know, everyone tells me I should try to be nicer but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Governor Graysmith is a nice guy but believe me, he’s a total low energy loser and a big time hack. Believe me, OK? Believe me. Let’s talk about the toilet gator, OK? All you big losers in the media, you purveyors of fake news love to run around, stirring the public up, saying “What’s President Stugotz doing about the toilet gator?” and “Oh, shouldn’t President Stugotz have caught the toilet gator by now?” Listen. When it comes to catching toilet gators, no one is better at catching toilet gators than me, OK? Believe me. I’ve got a broad coalition of federal, state, and local officials combing the sewer system as we speak and we will find this toilet gator and bring his scaly hide to justice, that I can guarantee you. You are all so lucky to have my as president right now, OK, because believe me, anyone else would be quaking in their boots in fear of this toilet gator. Alright, I guess I’ll acknowledge you people in the media who are, quite frankly, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, a bunch of degenerate, scum sucking pigs. You’re all pigs. That’s all there is to it. Which one of you pigs has a question?

RANDOM REPORTER #3 – Mr. President, when you speak about the toilet gator in such unflattering terms, do you realize you’re insulting the entire community of alligators at large, many of whom are peaceful and law abiding?

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: You’re a pig. Seriously. Take your underpants, pull them up over your back and attach them to your face because you deserve an atomic wedgie. Seriously. That’s what you deserve. Big time. Am I against all alligators? No. But for all the alligators out there, here’s the deal. You want to be an alligator in this country? You’ve got to play by the rules and act the way you’re supposed to. That means if you’re an alligator, you hang out in the swamp, maybe you eat a rat or frog or worst case scenario, a small child that wandered off from a campsite, just to teach the kid’s parents a costly lesson about responsibility. Maybe you can join the circus or a traveling carnival and do tricks but that’s all we want out of our alligators and if you behave yourselves, then you’ll have no problem from me. But, if you think you’re going to eat a bunch of God fearing Americans while they’re exercising their God given right to shit, no, not on my watch, bucko.

RANDOM REPORTER #4 – Mr. President, do you think it is possible to contain such an enormous beast?

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: Listen up, pencil dick, and by the way, I don’t say that to be mean, I’m just stating a fact, that you have a tiny weenus, whereas mine is thick, long and girthy and if you don’t believe me, you can ask my supermodel wife, who is way hotter than your wife. That’s just a fact. It’s true. It’s totally true. Big time truth, here. And yes, you lowlife, I believe it is possible to capture the toilet gator because as long as I am president, anything is possible, OK? Keep in mind that all law enforcement officials have been instructed to kill the toilet gator on sight. However, if it ends up that the toilet gator is taken into custody, then I will be left with no choice but to build a wall around the toilet gator and make the toilet gator pay for it.

(The reporters wave their hands around, shouting out questions.)

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: That’s enough questions for today. Remember, you’re all horrible people who should go home, take a long look in the mirror, and think about the many ways in which you have disappointed yourselves, your country, and your president. Stugotz out!

(Back to Kurt in studio).

KURT MANLEY: Some tough words for the toilet gator from President Stugotz. We take you now to Sitwell, Florida, where one of our Hot Ass Blonde Chicks with Big Titties is standing by with Cole Walker, the former police chief of Sitwell.

(Cut to Natalie Brock standing with Cole Walker outside the Sitwell Community College Library.)

KURT MANLEY: I understand it’s been a rough day in Sitwell, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties.

NATALIE BROCK: Indeed, Kurt. Earlier today, a joint task force raided the home of Mayor Beaumont Dufresne, the man seen earlier being eaten alive by the toilet gator in a live television commercial. Authorities were hoping to take the Mayor’s son, Buford Dufresne, into custody as he was suspecting of aiding and abetting the toilet gator.

KURT MANLEY: Get out of town. Are you telling me the toilet gator had a human accomplice?

NATALIE BROCK: It looks that way, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: This case is nuttier than a jar of chunky peanut butter.

NATALIE BROCK: Unfortunately, before the suspect could be apprehended, the toilet gator quite literally bursted onto the scene and gobbled up his conspirator as well as the entire task force.

KURT MANLEY: Holy flaming shitballs. That’s gotta be scary when the last thing you see in this life is the jaws of a hungry toilet gator coming at you.

NATALIE BROCK: Indeed. Meanwhile, the situation on the ground is getting intense, as citizens the National Guard has been deployed to enforce martial laws. Despite the increased military presence in the area, citizens continue to panic in a disorderly, reckless manner.

(Cut to a riot scene in downtown Sitwell. Looters run out of grocery store carrying stolen boxes of diapers. An angry rioter throws a trash can through the window of another store, then runs toward the camera with his arms flailing to and fro.)

ANGRY RIOTER: I’m panicking in a disorderly, reckless manner! ARRGH!

(NATALIE BROCK returns to screen).

NATALIE BROCK: Kurt, I’m joined by ex-police Chief Cole Walker, who has asked to speak to the toilet gator directly.

KURT MANLEY: Have at it, Mr. Walker.

(Natalie stares at Cole, who blinks at the camera.)

NATALIE BROCK: You’re on.

COLE WALKER: Oh. OK.

(Cole appears nervous. His hand trembles as he pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolds it and begins to read it.)

COLE WALKER: I’m sorry. I’ve never been on TV before.

KURT MANLEY: Relax, fella. You’re doing fine. If a bunch of dumb blonde bimbos with big racks can do it, then it’ll be a cinch for you, right Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties?

NATALIE BROCK: Sure, Kurt.

(Cole reads his note in a monotone voice, devoid of feeling.)

COLE WALKER: Attention, toilet gator. You have eaten a lot of private citizens who had no idea you were coming, as well as a joint task force who didn’t have any idea how to handle you. I have a question. Do you think you can take on an experienced hunter like me, a man who has faced some of the toughest animals in nature and is still here? I doubt you’d last long against me. In fact, I’m willing to bet you have a tiny alligator penis and my human penis is way bigger than yours. You wouldn’t last three seconds against me, but if you want to prove me wrong, meet me in the men’s restroom of the Sitwell Park Mall and we’ll finish this once and for all. Man vs. Alligator, mano a mano, human vs. reptile combat. Fail to show, and I will return to the airwaves to tell the world that you are little more than a giant green pussy with teeth.

(Cole looks up from his note.)

COLE WALKER: Thank you. That is all.

KURT MANLEY: Wow. “A giant green pussy with teeth.” Sounds like the third Mrs. Manley. There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The toilet gator has been called out. Will he rise to the challenge? Man vs. Beast. Stick with NN1 to find out who wins. That’s it for now. Coming up in the next hour, is there a brand of butter that can turn an English muffin into a hot flaming disc of death? Better stop eating that muffin for now and we’ll tell you which brand of butter that is in the next hour, right after sports and weather. Stay tuned for these commercial messages.

ANNOUNCER: Network News One! The hottest blonde chicks! The biggest titties! Oh yeah, and occasionally we report the news and shit.

 

 

 

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Writing Choices – Orange is the New Black and Polarizing Social Issues

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here with another installment of “Writing Choices.”

If you’re like me, you look forward to OITNB’s return in June every year on Netflix.  It’s been a guilty pleasure for me for a long time now.  Hard to believe the fifth season started streaming yesterday.

I have only watched the first episode of the fifth season so I can’t give you any new spoilers and would appreciate you not giving me any.

That’s ok because I actually want to talk about the last episode of Season 4.

Police shootings and/or fatalities in police custody have been in the news a lot lately in the past few years.  This topic is often polarizing.  One side usually says something like, “There’s no excuse when people die in police custody so throw the cops in jail!”  and then the other side is all like, “You have no idea how hard it is to be a police officer, what with the split second, life or death decisions that they have to make every day.  You could never do it yourself so stop being so hard on the police.”

Is it possible that there are times when an accident happens and no one is at fault?

Case in point, and LOOK AWAY BECAUSE A BIG SPOILER IS COMING, at the end of Season 4, dies while being pinned to the floor by CO Bayley.  We’re never really given a clear explanation as to how the death happened.  Basically, he holds her down and after a short time, she’s not moving or breathing anymore.

Tragic.  Sad.  The public demands someone to blame.  The company that oversees the prison immediately wants a scapegoat to present to the public.  At first, they demand Warden Caputo get on TV and portray Poussey in a negative light, that she was a bad egg, out of control, etc.

Caputo won’t do that so then the company shifts gears and demands that Caputo throw Bayley under the bus.  They find an old photo of Bayley dressed up as Rambo for Halloween and want to portray him as some kind of violent, militaristic nut job.

Caputo refuses to do that either.  Instead, he goes on TV and gives his take – that the prison is overcrowded, understaffed, and that a young officer who was barely trained was thrown into a situation he had no idea what to do with and a tragic accident happened.

Caputo’s explanation satisfies no one, especially a public that tends to see issues as black and white and demands that a villain be strung up anytime something goes wrong, but he is convinced he made the right call.

In a flashback episode, we see CO Bayley and Poussey at an earlier time, before they ended up at Litchfield as an officer and an inmate, respectively.  Bayley is a recent high school graduate and a total doofus who has just been fired from an ice cream parlor job for giving free ice cream to girls he likes.  Poussey is young and care free as well.

Bayley and his buddies and Poussey and her friends go on an outing to New York City.  In one fleeting scene, Bayley and Poussey pass each other on the street, neither noticing the other because they had yet to meet and had no reason to recognize each other but the point was clear – life may seem great now but you never know when it will take a turn for the worse.  You’re out there today, trying to live your life, trying to make the most of it but then, wham, it could all come crashing down in an instant.

But the other meaning behind this scene – they were both young, dumb kids.  Poussey was doing her best until she made a mistake that landed her in prison.  Bayley was trying to do his best, getting a job at a prison in the hopes of supporting himself, restraining an inmate as he was ordered to do except he did it wrong…life is good, until you screw up, and then it isn’t.

Poussey never set out to become a convict.  Bayley’s life long dream wasn’t to kill someone.  Somehow, shitty things just happen and shitty results happen.

Overall, I felt Season 4 of OITNB handled this very polarizing issue in a way that was fair to all sides.  Perhaps there are times when a tragedy happens and there isn’t someone who can be clearly pointed to as the villain.

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My Book is Free This Weekend!

Hey 3.5 readers.

I know.  I’ve become “that guy.”

The guy that repeatedly tries to give away his book instead of coming up with something new and interesting to say.

I can’t help it.  I’m like a proud father and this book is my baby.  So, just reminding you all it is free this weekend – totally FREE, so download your copy today and check it out.

That’s it.  I’ll zip my lip about it for a while.  Well, I might remind you tomorrow, possibly Monday, but that’s it.  Scout’s honor.

DOWNLOAD MY BOOK FOR FREE!

Bookshelf Q battlers for Amazon

 

 

 

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BQB’s Book is Climbing the Charts!

Check it out, 3.5 readers:

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I’m #14 in the Top 100 Books in the Free Writing Skills Reference Category.

Can we drive this higher?  Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Big Book of Badass Writing Prompts is going to be free all weekend.  Why not grab a free copy, give it a badass review, and work on some of the prompts and share your results with your blog audience?

Tell your friends, social media followers, etc.

I’m not getting any younger people.  I know.  I read your blogs.  You’re all like “Oh la dee da I’m in the writing game for the artistic wonder of it all” and I’d like to say that in it for that but, you know, also…fame and fortune.  And parties in Malibu mansions filled with scantily clad women…parties that aren’t going to happen unless you download your free copy today.

3.5 READERS:  Oh, that’s awesome BQB.  We love you so much and we’re going to thank you for all the free entertainment you’ve provided for us over the years by downloading your book for free.

Thank you 3.5 readers.  I love you too.  Download my book for free here.

 

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Thank You Anita Lovett and Associates

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here again.

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The year was 2015.  My arch-nemesis, the International War Criminal/Incredibly Boring Snow Monster known as “The Yeti” scaled the walls of BQB HQ, infiltrated my security systems and took me hostage, vowing to only release me if I obtained a higher number of Twitter followers.

I don’t remember why the Yeti wanted me to get more Twitter followers.  He’s a yeti.  His brain is 95% hair.  Stop trying to make sense out of anything a yeti does.

At any rate, I put out a call for help, asking people to follow me @bookshelfbattle in order to release me from the Yeti’s vile clutches.

The only person to respond?  Anita Lovett of Anita Lovett and Associates.

That’s right.  The rest of you did literally nothing, nothing at all, and were completely content to allow your favorite blog host to remain a yeti captive until the end of time.

Anita, on the other hand, showed the requisite amount of concern that any human should show upon learning that another human has become a yeti captive and she tweeted a call for her followers to follow me.

Meanwhile, the rest of you watched TV and ate cheese doodles and did literally nothing while an incredibly boring snow monster just moved into BQB HQ and made himself at home.  Do you guys realize that furry SOB hasn’t even left yet?  That beast has been bogarting my Funions and my TV remote since the Obama administration.

Sadly, you will all bear this shame forever whereas I have asked Alien Jones to put Anita Lovett and Associates on the protected rolls so that they may be spared during the Mighty Potentate’s Earth invasion, which totally shouldn’t happen as I will no doubt put out many novels that will appease the Potent One but just in case, you never know.

Anyway, when I needed an editor for Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Big Book of Writing Prompts (available for free on Amazon through Monday, June 12) I instantly remembered how Anita came to my defense against the Yeti whereas the rest of you 3.5 readers failed me so, so miserably.  Seriously.  There are no words to describe how disappointed I am in all of you to this very day.

But I digress.  I don’t want to get into specifics, but I found Anita’s prices to be reasonable and in my opinion, she put more work in than the compensation she asked for.

Now, caveat, I obviously don’t speak for Anita so I can’t say she’ll do the same for you.  I mean, maybe she just did it for me because I’m so darn likable and charming and while I’m sure you all think you’re all likable and charming, it’s a lot to ask anyone to live up to the great example that I put out to the world on a daily basis.  I really am a bastion of humility.

Anita and Associates edited my book, went over it, making sure all the various grammatical rules were followed and so forth.  She made a number of suggestions about how to improve the content (i.e. the prompts themselves).  She even formatted it into a file so that all I had to do at the end of the process was load it up on Amazon.  That part I especially appreciated it as I am clueless when it comes to taking a written work and getting it ready for e-publishing.

Most importantly, she answered all my questions and I would add, she set deadlines and stuck to them.  If she said something would be done by X date, sure enough, I’d look in my inbox and find it was done by X date.

Will Anita go out of her way to help you like she did for me?  I mean, obviously I can’t guarantee that because I’m awesome and people like me and they like me so much that they tend to do backflips just to make me happy because, again, I’m so likable.

All I can say is that perhaps you should get in on the ground floor, drop her a line and see what she can do for you and your book before she becomes big and famous, forgets the little people, is able to charge zillions of dollars per hour and can’t return your phone calls because she’s too busy hob nobbing with James Patterson and Steven King and so forth.

Oh, and tell her to work on my stuff before your stuff.  I mean, I don’t want to brag, but I think Toilet Gator is really going to take the literary world by storm and I’m going to need her full and undivided attention on it.  I fully intend to hire Anita and her Associates to break out some flowcharts and protractors and engage in some serious mathematical equations just to see if my claims about the ability of a toilet gator to travel to various toilets within a given time frame are accurate.

You scoff but I’m already in talks with Matthew McConaughey and Dame Judi Dench to play the lead roles in the movie version…at least those people I met at the truck stop diner told me they were Matt and Judy.

(Note that’s just a joke and I’m sure she won’t put my stuff before your stuff but rather treats all her clients equally, even though my upcoming book, Toilet Gator, really is the best book ever written in the entire history of writing.)

Don’t forget to follow her on Twitter – @anitalovett

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