FIRST CLASS FOOLS

We Like To Skateboard, And Start Trouble

Kevin Hagen's Intergalactic Encounter

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I need you to listen to me very carefully, ( and I’ve been persecuted for speaking this truth) on august 29th 2015, something not from this world touched down onto my father’s farm and destroyed nearly half of our crops. As my kid brother Tom and I went to inspect the damage, we were abducted by intergalactic Latin Kings. This I believe was in retaliation for disrespecting some of their homeboys in sector 9 of Bridgeview (X’s and O’s). We’re going to have to rewind a tad for any of that to make sense, but if you bear with me, I’ll unfold the tale as it went down, and if you’re lucky I may even reveal to you ‘What I iz.’

It was a casual Saturday night with very little to do. My brother Tom and I wanted to have our cousin George over to shoot the shit and play some video games. As I am about to phone Georgie boy with an invite, my kid brother reminded me of recent family parties and the shit that had gone down. You see, George had developed some deep feelings for some of our livestock and my father forbade George from ever coming back. I could go on and on about what happened during Tom’s 21st birthday but to keep it brief: George was on a particularly long “phone call” in the barn (this was not uncommon as George had a girlfriend in another state). George came back from this “phonecall” 45 minutes later panting and covered in hay. The morning after, my father went to inspect the barn. Feathers. Fur. Everywhere. One of our sheep completely sheered..one of our cows unable to walk. When asked about it over the phone George chalked it up to it “being one of those kinda nights.”He went on and on..started to go into detail about our cow Maryanne when my father cut him off (listening on our upstairs phone) “George, that is not even close to what cow tipping is..stay the hell away from Maryanne! And stay the fuck off this farm ya hear!?” Anyways, back to the story.

My kid brother suggests that instead of having George over to the farm that we go to a bar none of us had been to before, and after very little research we decided on X’s and O’s of Bridgeview. We meet outside there,trade sports and weather, and make our way to the door. We’re very quickly approached by the bouncer.

“My name is Jose, do as I say!”

“Okay Jose!” We boyishly chime in unison.

“Are you gentleman armed?” the bouncer asks, already tugging away at my penis.

“No we are not..” (I see my kid brother make a gesture that he is about to flex and hand this bouncer tickets to the gun show so I quickly motion a plea to him and God...please not now) and reply further “..and we are very much straight men” *raising my brow to Tom*

“Good to know. I however am a sociopathic homosexual and could care less…please untense your groin sir.” Time passes..a lot of it I feel..in this time..our groin areas being handled and shuffled through..I couldn’t help but to think of the farm..and I’m sure George did too.

“Boys, remove your hats, this territory is spoken for” Again I see in Tom’s eyes, a childish joke in the mix. As Tom removes his ballcap and places his hand over his heart to begin a crappy national anthem joke ( Jose can’t you seeeeee!?) ..a stray bullet whizzes by the three of us shattering the glass door to our backs.

“Ignore that gentlemen, have a good night.”

We ignore that. We ignored a lot in those first moments.

We walk up to the bar and decide on what domestic gruel to get drunk off of. Budweiser is agreed on. We take our bucket on course to the pool tables and as we’re heading there, we pass a few Latin kings.

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“What you iz?” The alpha latin king asks in our direction. I sadly comprehended that and decide to field the poorly constructed question “Justa couple kids trying to have a nice night out.” We pass them and start setting up for pool..the whole time being stared down by these inquisitive young men. It wasn’t long before they opened fire on us. I believe George had been struck by a few rounds but we had just bought a bucket so we weren’t about to call it a night. We finish our game of pool and with his last dying breathes, George suggested we play a round of darts while we finish what’s left of our bucket. Midway into a game of cricket, George passed.

Tom and I throw another dollar in the machine while dodging a few bullets from the other side of the bar. We are really starting to get into the match when the machine went out. The wiring in the machine had become so bullet ridden that it completely stopped working. “Enough is enough” I thought. I channeled the spirit of Steven Seagal to take the trash out. And he did. He took the trash out so well that my brother Tom and I were the only ones left standing in X’s and O’s of Bridgeview. I’ve never seen so much blood and bling lying in one place. The spirit of Steven Seagal bowed to Tom and I and said a quick prayer for George’s soul before vanishing into one of the many HDTVs.

It was getting late so my kid brother and I decided to call it a night and drag George’s lifeless body into my Tahoe. We went home and buried George next to one of the sheep we suspected George had mated with. He would have liked that. We awoke the next morning to the damage..we awoke the next morning to our abduction.

ABOARD THE SPACESHIP SURROUNDED BY INTERGALACTIC LATIN KINGS:

Onboard this space craft we were asked questions like:

- Why have you gone and fucked with our bois?

-What you iz?

-What makes you think you can fuck with our dawg?

..and so on

My brother and I remained silent and petrified. These aliens decide that since we wont talk or admit to fucking with their dawg like that, they’d replay the transmission of what happened that night. This is the moment they realized their mistake. You see, they discovered their dawg had misinterpreted what I said when asked ‘what I iz?’

What I said was 'just a couple kids trying to have a nice night out.’ What was heard was 'just a couple crips trying to have a nice night out.'

We all laughed heartily for a time and the intergalactic latin kings apologized for their dawg’s mistake and for the death of our cousin George. We all had a few domestic brews  and they shared what life is like in their sector. They told us that sports aren’t as important in their hometown. They told us that in their dimension, Bruce Jenner was still a man and not simply some animatronic sentinel droid with the vague forecast of a man’s penis. They told us many things that day..and then they dropped us at home.

It’s hard for me to break down my rating for X’s and O’s of Bridgeview into a matter of stars..and even with our short visit leading to the death of my cousin and the loss of half of my fathers crops..I can’t entirely fault the bar. The pool tables were nice, the bouncer was more than friendly and the beers were cold and with that I give X’s and O’s a solid 3 of 5 stars

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