Ultra Relationship News – No. 6 – “Cheats”

[Live from Chi-Town: “It’s BAD JOKE FRIDAY NIGHT!!!” And then there’s this: I feel I don’t owe any more grateful acknowledgements to playwright and screenwriter David Mamet. His funny-sex-dialogue shtick that “inspired me” only lasted for one scene of one play (“Sexual Perversity in Chicago”); my shtick is continuing ad infinitum. Hah. In case you were wondering. Happy Bad Jokes and have a Spicy Night!!!]
ULTRA RELATIONSHIP NEWS

Number 6, “Cheats”

by Yours Troubly
(but with somewhat necessarily changed language,
due to polite society)
[Eddie and The Strawman are sitting in an IHOP after their—rather warm—Saturday morning run, working on coffee, orange juice, ice water, more ice water, and their short stacks.]

STRAW: (between pancake inhalations) So, you heard the latest?

EDDIE: (between slurps, sips, and bites) Probbly not.

STRAW: They wanna tell our Prez who just left that Paris global warming thing… (chews)

EDDIE: What?

STRAW: (grinning) Pulling out is not an effective form of Earth control.

[Eddie cracks up]

STRAW: Speaking of which, how’s things with you and Hooserface, Rachel?

EDDIE: “Facial Rachel.”

STRAW: Right. Because “she can’t ‘do it’ the regular way.” Ain’t that what you said?

EDDIE: (swallowing) Well, now she’s not doing it ‘any’ way. At least not with me she’ not.

STRAW: You’re kidding me.

EDDIE: Nope.

STRAW: You guys split?

EDDIE: Yep.

STRAW: What happened?

EDDIE: She has no moral sense.

STRAW: And you do? WE do?

EDDIE: Damn straight I DO! I don’t know about you.

STRAW: “No moral sense.” So what’d she do, get an abortion for her pet python?

EDDIE: Come on…

STRAW: No, really! What about her own self. SHE get an abortion?

EDDIE: No. She’s probbly too old.

STRAW: That’s right! How old did you say she was? (grinning) 70? 85??

EDDIE: 53.

STRAW: A cougar.

EDDIE: Right.

STRAW: So what the flock she hangin’ round YOU for? Or vice versa. Ain’t WE thirty-somethings?

EDDIE: She’s a grandma.

STRAW: Hey man, in the ‘hood you can have GREAT-grandmas at 53. Even great-great-great-grandmas!

EDDIE: Nah.

STRAW: Eighth grade chickies get knocked up; THEY have kids that get knocked up 14 years later… et cetera et cetera… (eats) Do the math!

EDDIE: Well, Facial Rachel’s just a one-grandma. She got two sons.

STRAW: Both married? They now got kids?

EDDIE: Nah. They’re in prison.

STRAW: WHAT???

EDDIE: And one of ‘em’s girlfriend had a kid, which nobody’s sure is even his.

STRAW: Whoa.

EDDIE: I know!

STRAW: It’s a rough crowd you hang with.

EDDIE: HUNG with. Past tense, now.

STRAW: So. (continues eating) What happened?

EDDIE: Between granny and me?

STRAW: Right. Last I heard you was swingin’ from grapevines… Jane too… da bote a ya’s swingin’ in the urban jungle, happily tearin’ each other’s loincloth off.

EDDIE: She wasn’t very good.

STRAW: No?

EDDIE: No. I told ya. She just never wanted to “do it” in the regular way.

STRAW: Insert Tab A into Slot B.

EDDIE: You got it. Everything had to be oral.

STRAW: I’ll bet she was runnin’ some MAJOR halitosis.

EDDIE: Major what?

STRAW: Bad breath.

EDDIE: Good head.

STRAW: What?

EDDIE: Never mind.

STRAW: She give it, or you give it?

EDDIE: Never mind. It wasn’t really ever very good.

STRAW: Why’s that?

EDDIE: Too flocking UPTIGHT. Always. All the time. And selfish! Hoo-boy!!

STRAW: She only wanted YOU to do “the mouth nasty” to HER. Am I right?

EDDIE: That’s about the flockin’ size of it.

STRAW: (drinks) So what the flock you mean by her bein’ selfish?

EDDIE: Obsessed, too.

STRAW: Obsessed… about selfishness?

EDDIE: Sure. And about “getting her run in.”

STRAW: So what’s wrong with that?

EDDIE: We were volunteering!

STRAW: What? What’s that got to do with the price of toothpaste?

EDDIE: We were volunteering last weekend. The specific rules were: “NO volunteers running. NO pacing. And NOBODY except registered runners on the course!”

STRAW: So?

EDDIE: She managed to find a way to break ALL those rules.

STRAW: No.

EDDIE: Flockin’ damn straight.

STRAW: How???

EDDIE: Didn’t I tell you about this new 100-miler? This thing that went one-way, point-to-point, start to finish, along that recently-extended paved bike path?

STRAW: I don’t remember.

EDDIE: Last weekend! It’s this brand-new hundred called the “I’D RATHER BE BIKING—CENTURY.” Get it?

STRAW: Right.

EDDIE: ‘Cuz of the bike path.

STRAW: I got it!

EDDIE: We volunteered to work together overnight at the halfway aid station, when… boom…

STRAW: Her python shows up.

EDDIE: No!

STRAW: The snake has an abortion right there on the path.

EDDIE: No!

STRAW: She drops trou and shoves “it” right in your face!

EDDIE: (pause) Man, what drug are you on? Where do you come up with all this whack-chit?

STRAW: (grins) Just movin’ the conversation along.

EDDIE: Well, it ain’t helpin’.

STRAW: So, where DOES her lack of moral sense come into the picture?

EDDIE: She gets bored. Realizes she hasn’t got her run in for the day… then picks up on this bedraggled-lookin’ dufus creeping into the A-S… and boom. She offers her pacing services.

STRAW: Really.

EDDIE: Really. And so they, you know, take off runnin’ together. Like, flock! What about our JOB here at the aid station???

STRAW: Flock the aid station!

EDDIE: That’s right.

STRAW: She just… takes off. Runnin’ with the guy…

EDDIE: Right!

STRAW: Even though it’s against the RULES… not to mention bein’ totally UNFAIR to all the other dufuses who still have another 50 miles to go, who have NO helpers.

EDDIE: That’s about the size of it.

STRAW: In ultramarathoning, hey, chit like that is bad news.

EDDIE: Freakin’ ILLEGAL!!!

STRAW: Bad Karma.

EDDIE: CHEATING!!!

STRAW: How’d she get home? Wasn’t she drivin’ with you?

EDDIE: I could care less how she got home. Maybe that bedraggled dufus had his car at the end and gave her a lift… straight into the ditch, for all I care.

STRAW: Your car was at the 50-mile mark.

EDDIE: Yup.

STRAW: So, did she get caught? I mean, there she was runnin’ all night without a bib number. Every aid station captain from there to Sing-Sing would HAVE to notice, right?

EDDIE: Don’t know and don’t care.

STRAW: Then she got away with it?

EDDIE: Maybe, but I don’t think so.

STRAW: No? Why do ya say that?

EDDIE: Because of Facebook. Both her AND the dufus bragged about their wonderful run together all over Facebook!!!

STRAW: Ahh, the infamous all-compulsive stupidity of posting EVERYTHING on Eff-Bee.

EDDIE: I can only assume the RD saw it, realized what they did, and DQ’d the chit out of ‘em.

STRAW: Or… not.

EDDIE: Don’t care. All I know is, me ’n’ Facial Rachel are history.

STRAW: Too bad.

EDDIE: I need somebody who DOESN’T cheat.

STRAW: Especially not with a bedraggled dufus.

EDDIE: Or who breaks race rules.

STRAW: Or a Roe versus Wade test case python.

EDDIE: Her sons in prison have trouser snakes… which ought to be fed into a sausage grinder!

STRAW: (cringes) You done here?

EDDIE: Yeah.

STRAW: Let’s go then.

[They finish their beverages, stand up, Strawman drops the tip, and they leave.]
Happy Long Run Tomorrow, Every Body!

Yours troubly,

Rich Limacher
TheTroubadour@sbcglobal.net
(“Your ancient song-and-dance man who believes in The Golden Rule, which is: ‘He who has the gold makes the rules.’ Which for well over a thousand years was the Catholic Church. But it mostly just ruled against X-rated movies.”)

Yankee Folly of the Day:
That one bears repeating: “Pulling out is not an effective form of Earth control.” It does, however, always seem to work in X-rated movies.