Ugly Players Anonymous Intro
The Dope SHit
introduction I wrote. It can be found at
http://uglypa.tripod.com . I think you guys will enjoy this :)
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Ugly Players Anonymous started out as a gag in the late 1990's. I
started school again, and was forced to put the project on the back
burners. Eventually, I forgot all about it. For years I went on with my
life. I partied, played, worked, and learned... but something was missing. I
felt incomplete. At first I thought maybe I needed a girlfriend. I hooked up
with a girl named Stacy, and we fucked around for about three months, but
the hole in my heart was still as large as ever. I didn't leave my
relationship with Stacy empty-handed, however. While I was with her, I got
something I had never had before: crabs. When I found out about the new
family of parasites that had moved in on my dick, I made a few calls and had
Stacey's pubic hairs burned off one at a time with a soldering iron.
I had hit rock-bottom. Not only was I lonely and yearning for something
I didn't understand, I had crabs to boot. For months I slipped in and out of
depression. I did whatever I could to alleviate my pain and anger. I started
popping downers, uppers, and upsidowners. I did acid, mushrooms, and coke,
and smoked way too much weed. Finally, one day in April, 2001, I burned out.
I was on six hits of acid, and after a heated argument with my refrigerator,
I had decided to commit suicide. I stumbled into my garage, and opened up
the gun safe. This was rather difficult since the numbers on the combination
dial were no longer numbers at all, they were little pictures of the
characters on Sesame Street. With frantic desperation my shaky fingers
turned the dial. I started at Maria, turned right to Oscar the Grouch, then
left past Elmo twice, and right once again until I stopped on Big Bird. I
lifted up on the handle, and heard the familiar clicking sound of the safe
unlocking. I reached in and pulled out my Sig 9mm semi-automatic handgun. As
I lifted the gun to my head, I started feeling that gushy sensation you get
between your butt cheeks when you hold a shit for too long. I decided that I
would take one last shit before I offed myself, and that I would enjoy it
immensely.
After lining the seat with little toilet paper squares, I quickly pulled
down my pants, sat down and immediately dropped a turd that must have been
three feet long. It was accompanied by an orchestra of gas, and I was the
conductor. Out of my ass came Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King,
Ludwig Von Beethoven's 7th Symphony, and Soft Cell's Tainted Love. I sat
there for what seemed like hours, pumping out contemporary hits from the
60s, 70s, and 80s.
Then something incredible happened.
Out of nowhere, a voice comparable to that of God boomed, "VICTORY THROUGH
INTIMIDATION."
I squeezed the last couple of notes of Mr. Roboto out of my bunghole and
stood up with trembling knees.
"Who's there?," I called. "What do you want?"
"YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT."
This time I could definitely tell that the voice was coming from my right.
"Oh look man, if this is about that baggy of mulch I sold you, I thought it
was weed, man! Honest! Look, I'll give your money back if you just get the
hell out of my bathroom."
"MULCH? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHY WOULD YOU SELL SOMEONE MULCH IN A
BAGGY? NEVERMIND!! I'M HERE TO DELIVER A MESSAGE TO YOU FROM ERIS."
It was coming from the ground, and to the right. I looked in that direction
and there was the toilet brush, staring up at me. It stood on legs of
toothpicks, and it had arms made of twine crossed about his chest. For eyes,
two golden buttons shimmered in the dim light, and a safety pin was somehow
fastened on for a mouth.
"Jesus Christ!" I screamed. "What the hell are you?!"
"I AM THAYGOR, MESSENGER OF ERIS"
"Who is Eris? Is she the shower curtain?"
"MORTAL FOOL! ERIS IS THE GODDESS OF DISCORD! SAY HER NAME WITH REVERENCE!
YOU ARE TO BEGIN AGAIN WHAT YOU HAVE STOPPED."
I nervously began farting the first few notes of Mr. Roboto when Thaygor
angrily interrupted me.
"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT! YOU HUMANS DISGUST ME!"
"I'm sorry. What does Eris want me to do?"
"SEVERAL YEARS AGO YOU FORMED A GROUP CALLED "UGLY PLAYERS ANONYMOUS". IT'S
CREATION SIGNALED THE DEATHS OF PEOPLE WHO WORE NIKE SHOES, TRICKED PEOPLE
INTO BUYING STUPID THINGS THEY DIDNT NEED, AND CAUSED MANY JAPANESE CHILDREN
TO HAVE SEIZURES."
"Actually, that was Hale-Bop, Beanie-Babies, and Pokemon."
"SILENCE! THE CHAOS CAUSED BY YOUR GROUP PLEASED ERIS. YOU WILL FORM THE
GROUP AGAIN."
"As you command, oh sacred god of the toilet brushes." I wiped my ass,
stood up, bowed before the offensive little imp, pulled up my pants and
turned to walk out of the bathroom.
"FOOL! I AM NO GOD! THIS FORM IS A PUNISHMENT FROM ERIS! AT HER LAST PARTY
I PASSED RYAN HOLT A BONG. IT GOT HIM STONED IN TWO HITS."
"Its a party foul to get Ryan Holt stoned in god land?"
"MORTAL, ITS A PARTY FOUL TO GET RYAN HOLT STONED ANYWHERE. HE CANT HANDLE
HIS WEED. TRY TO IMAGINE CARROT TOP ON CRACK. GET RYAN HOLT STONED AND HE IS
100 TIMES MORE ANNOYING."
"Oh, I see. I'll remember that."
"I MUST GO NOW, MORTAL. REVIVE UGLY PLAYERS ANONYMOUS. MAKE ERIS PROUD. AND
REMEMBER: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO GIVE RYAN HOLT DRUGS OF ANY
KIND."
And so Ugly Players Anonymous has been reborn.