Hot Fudge Sunday

  by Bob Grubb

Sometimes I likes to stay up on Saturday nights
ya know - toss down a few beers
and watch R-rated cable movies
but after a couple hours
those wavy lines make me dizzy
so I usually turn on somethin else...

so last night I watched "Gold of The Amazon Women"
which I've seen before
but never seem to catch the beginnin of
and di'n't again last night...

but anyways this guy in London's
gotta map of a lost city of gold in the Amazon
and meanwhile
this bad guy knows the good guy's got the map
and he wants it when suddenly
there's Amazon wimmin on the rooftops of London
wearin Kuala skin teddys and blond hair
who use lots of sunscreen
and they start shootin arrows at the good guy
but he gets away...

then a commercial comes on with this over-bouncesome babe goin on bout how the first 10 minutes are free when you calls the Psychic Hotline and they has testymoanials like "I called the Psychic Hotline and they tole me I was gonna meet someone special and sure enough I did the very next day" and "they tole me I would receive some money soon and sure enough I won the lottery the next day" and I'm sittin there wondering how come they never say shit like "They tole me my dawg was gonna get runned over by a truck and sure enough the next day I found his corpse stickin halfway out the pavement in front the house" or "they tole me I was gonna lose somethin valuable and

but then the movie comes back on and I needs a beer
so I goes out to the kitchen and gets one and when I come back
the good guy's gotten one of his pals
to drive him to the edge of South America or some shit
and his bud says "we can't drive any farther cause the jungle starts here"
and the good guy says yeah seems that way
so these two guys get out the jeep
and they has all these non speekin parts guys
carryin all their shit for 'em
and also a guide guy
and they go into the jungle...

then they puts on a commercial with these wigglesome chicks sayin "Call us for some stimulatin conversation" and they're pretty hot lookin and only charge 3.75 a minute to talk to you so hell - I'm lonely an I figger no one what looks that good is gonna talk to me unless I pays em and I gotta few minutes afore the movie comes back on so - what the hell we're only talkin 7 bucks for two minutes so I dials 976-SAY-WHAT only dammit, it takes a long time when yer tryin to figger out what freekin number goes to what letter and I'm on like H...

when the movie comes back on so I hangs up
cause I know the good part is comin up
and I don't want to be payin some chick
to be yakin at me while I'm tryin to watch this
cause you know how wimmins go on and on bout shit like they saw this pair of shoes today and what color they did their freekin toenails - and their feelings - and someone ya don't even freekin know just had a baby and it's so cute and tiny...

and I'm like fer *gawdsake*
don't you have a girlfriend you can call and tell this kinda crap to cause I'll be damned if this is werth 3.75 a minute when I'm waitin' to see if these Amazons are gonna be braless or maybe even have some sorta wardrobe malfunction...

so I jumps up all quicklike to grab a beer
and come back to find
that the good guy, his bud, and their party
are now goin deep into the jungle
it's like a gazillion degrees
and they're swingin machetes
cuttin their ways through the jungle...

just then this non speekin parts guy
falls into quicksand cept noone knows it
cause if he screamed they'd have to pay him for the line
so all you see is this hand stickin up out the quicksand
graspin for air or some shit
and the good guy's pal is like "Look! Over There!"
cause his is a speekin part
and the good guy yells "LOOK OUT!"
I guess cause no one wants to get hand all over their shoes or something...

and then it's another commercial and there's Laverne and Rosie O freekin Donnell in spandax tellin every one they shop at Kmars and ya has to believe it cause I don't care how much money you got if you look like those two and run around in spandax you prolly hang out in Kmars the entire time yer not callin the Psychic Hotline and they start goin' on and on about freekin sheets what are on sale this week...

and some fudge cake to snack on and rush back just in time to see that now they've stumbled into the web of a humongo jungle spider not Laverne and freekin Rosie though and the spider seems way pisst about this

and run smack dab into the middle of a native village what consists of very misplaced Zulus but maybe they do have tribes with bones thru their noses and Nikes down there I dunno and they capture everyone acause they're canniballs

and suddenly there's this big ol head fillin up the screen screamin "COME ON DOWN TO BIG DAN'S USED CARS! WE'RE OVERSTOCKED!! EVERYTHin MUST GO!!! AND I'M NOT WEARIN ANY FREEKIN TROUSERS!!!!" and the peeple downstairs start beatin on their ceilin with a broom and yellin at me to turn my TV down which I do whilst I'm thinkin oh yeah I just can't wait to get down there to BIG DAN'S USED CARS and have him scream in my face like a Walmars greeter what just had a broom shoved up his ass the wrong way which may be why he's got no trousers on...

and then the movie comes back on
only now I can't freekin hear it
so I goes over and turn it up
and the good guy's whisperin to his bud
"I'll create a diversion"
so just as I sit back down
it turns out the diversion is this big freekin explosion
and now the neighbors are beatin on their ceilin again
so I start to get up again
and that's when I spill my beer
what lands in the plate of fudge cake in my lap
and when I jump up it spills
all down the front of my freekin boxers and now there's this big stain...

so I turns the TV down
go get another beer
and sit back down in the other chair
acause there's a pile of fudge
what smells like a brewery on the chair I was in
and by now they've gotten away
but its down to the good guy, his bud
the guide, and 4 non speekin parts guys
and the canniballs are chasin them and stuff
until suddenly they aren't
acause our heros has just gotten to that part
what be in all jungles what even the natives don't go into
only you don't know why
you has to wait and see...

and it kinda gives me the willys I mean sittin there in wet boxers with a huge fudge stain on the front of my shorts and suddenly two way hot Amazons of obvious Swedish hairitage jump out the bushes and take everyone prizner...

so I grabs another beer as fast as I can
cause now we're gettin to the good parts and come back
and here's Suzanne Sommer's tellin everyone she used to have flabby armpits but all that's changed since she invented the PitMaster and I'm checkin my pits cause you know maybe its not just wimmins what has this problem and I'm thinkin dammit I don't remember this part of the movie...

when the phone rings and my landlord is yellin at me
cause he's gettin calls from the peeple downstairs about me
and he's tryin to watch a freekin movie
so I aks him "Gold of the Amazon Women?"
and he's like no - somethin with a lot of wavy lines
so I tells him ok - I'll keep it down and hang up...

just as the good guy, his bud, the guide and the last non speekin parts guy are gettin locked up by the Amazon wimmins inside of cages made outta sticks like how freekin hard can that be to get out of then suddenly here's the bad guy in a helicopter droppin canisters of some kinda gas down on the Amazon village and I'm wondering why the hell are the good guys goin the hard way when the bad guy's got the freekin sense to rent an air conditioned helicopter and now everyone's all asleep from the canister gas so they puts on another commercial...

this one is about hearin aids but I can't hear anythin they's sayin anyways so as I gets up fer another beer I turn the TV up and, I dunno, but from the kitchen it sounds to me like they're mumblin "come to walmars come to walmars" so this is prolly just more martian subliminal shit goin on...

and now the good guys are beatin off the bad guys and the Amazon wimmin are all appreciative of that of course and one of 'em offers to lead them to the lost city of gold I guess cause the guy with the map can't actually read a map so off they go...

and on the way the last non speekin parts guy
becomes a non speekin dearly departed guy
and dies dramatically (though silently) from malaria
so now they has to leave all their shit behind
cause they ain't gonna haul all that crap around themselves...

"Hello, I'm Barry Manilow and now you can own every song I ever recorded on this 15 CD set from Wanko Records" so its like I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit and watch Barry freekin Manilow so I flips the channel and it's all wavy lines but I can sorta make out a breast there - I think - so I turns it up and I can hear a voice sayin "OH YES - OH FREEKIN YESSSSSS!" so I know nope - it aint one of them hot movies

so I flip back to the Amazon chicks movie and now they're at the lost city of gold only they di'n't know that the bad guy's still followin them so they're sorta surprised when the guide and the Amazon woman go down in a hail of machine gun fire

when a commercial comes on for somethin called the Clapper and what's way cool acause you can turn electrical shit on and off just by clappin yer hands and well I really do love that song they sing in the commercial...

so I'm singin and clappin along and knock my beer over
and it goes into my freekin lap
when suddenly there's a bangin on my door
so I'm thinkin what the hell is up with this
its freekin 3 in the morning...

so I looks out my peep hole
and its Mr. Slathers the freekin landlord
so I open the door and there he is in his freekin longjohns
all "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN IN HERE?!?"
as he's eyein the wet fudge all over my crotch
so I tells him to come in and I'm splainin shit to him
when the movie comes back on...

and he's like "Yer watchin this too?"
and I'm like uh yeah
and it's comin up on the last part
and he's all he don't wanna miss it either
but he missed the first part
watchin somethin else
but the wavy lines just gave him a headache...

so I tells him to have a seat and he sits down
on that chair what's full of beer and fudgecake
but he don't say anything
and I don't wanna piss him off anymore ya know
so I grab another brewski and give him one
though it's obvious he's had more than a few already
and we're watchin the ending...

and this is the best part
the good guy and his buddy are the only ones left
cause everyone else's been killt
and so now
after hackin their way through the jungle fer a thousand miles
and havin all these peeple die
prolly most of em from carryin all their shit around
and bein captured by Amazonians
barely escapin a tribe of canniballs
bein bombed by a guy in a freekin rented air conditioned helicopter...

after all that shit
and a whole lot more shit I dint go into
the good guy looks at his buddy and says
"ok we has the gold, now what? How do we get outta here?"
and his buddy answers
(and I swear I aint makin this shit up)
"Accordin to this map, there's an airport 60 miles from here"...

then in the final scene they're at this airport and it looks like Miami International or some shit you know, like ok there's really a lost anythin 60 miles from this place and why the hell di'n't they just start this adventure from the airport in the first damn place... and Mr. Slathers gets all teary eyed I mean he's totally smashed ya know

when here comes that broom on the ceilin again
and so *he* stomps on the floor
and yells "HEY! FUCK YOU!!"
which I guess is ok since he's the landlord and all
so I figger k, we's male bondaged so tight at this point
and I'd been tryin to get this dude in here
to look at my freekin toilet fer like 2 months
cause it's always backed up
and here he is, so I aks him
if he knows what's wrong with my crapper
and he looks and of course its full of crappage
and he turns around all do you has a plunger
so I'm like yeah, and I go out to the hallway closet to get it...

and so I open the door and two big ass cops push their way in and one of 'em says theys got a complaint from the peeple downstairs about the noise in here and the other one's lookin at the stain on my crotch when Mr. Slathers says "NOW HOLD ON HERE I'M THE..."

so here I am
with this fudge stain on the front of my boxers
and there's Mr. Slathers all up against the wall
with a fudge stain on the back of his freekin longjohns
and the one cop looks at the other cop who goes fer his gun and yells
"DROP THE PLUNGER!"
and I dunno if ya ever heard a plunger
drop on hardwood floorin at 4 in the freekin morning
but I guess the peeple downstairs did
cause they start beatin on the freekin ceiling
with that damn broom again...

and Mr. Slathers is all look I don't know why yer here
but I'm the freekin landlord
and I can take care of this situation without police interference
so now these cops have a major attitude problem
and one of 'em says "well Mr. *Landlord*
it appears to me yer whole freekin buildin is a problem"...

and it turns out these people what's been beatin on their ceilin with a broom are illegal aliens or some shit and they're all sittin around smokin' crack so they haul us all down to the station where Mr. Slather gets booked fer runnin a crack house I gets booked fer male prostitution and they're holdin the freekin plunger fer evidence

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