Early this afternoon, Rudy Chaprone, FAWX News pseudo-anchor, is slouched over his desk, face wrecked with an inner brew of emptiness, doubt, self-loathing,and desire; he is visibly silently distressed in a brooding depression.
“Maan fuck all y’all, I was thinkin’ I had some purpose here an’ shit, but nah dawgs, ya’ll never seen Rudy Chaprone in any news reports unless he be getting’ eatin by lions, or dyin’ from toxic crayons!
“Rudy, what do you have to say about the allegations that the FAWX news team mistreats you?”
“Man get dose fuckin’ cameras outta my face dawg, only reason you be’ trippin is ‘cause it be national peace and sanity day. When they ain’t nothin’ goin on, y’all come to Rudy! Shiiit, at least you could be doin’ more to hurt me, just so’z I got mo’ work.”
“Rudy, what do you think about FAWX news policy, which states to immediately terminate employees who show signs of shooting up the work place?” I looked over at Mark, clasping a beer can, chugging down five in the course of a minute as Rudy apparently mulled over my eyes, staring in them with an angry intensity. I heard Mark’s breath shoot into the tube of a Breathalyzer, unwittingly within shot of the camera.
“Probably some bullllllshit.”
“Breathalyzer indicates an alcohol content of 50.0.” Mark whispered in my ear.
“Rudy, how do you respond to accusations that your alcohol bloodpoint average is well above lethal limits?”
“Yo what?!”
Rudy Chaprone is currently being admitted to AA services to help him cope with his addiction to alcohol, however the possibility of concealed weaponry, in a means to enter a rampage to spill the blood of many innocents as an effective method of stress relief - precludes admittance into AA. A full body cavity search was conducted, and no armaments were located.
With a look of horror painted on his face, he sat in a circle with fellow alcoholics, feeling both shamed and relieved, while a man rattled his clipboard, feverishly trying to attach a piece of paper under the clip. At 8PM, as the FAWX news team observed him from the window as discreetly as possible [not], he began to possibly show signs of alcoholic urges. He brought afinger towards his scalp, and scratched it almost fiendishly, as if to relieve liquid temptations. Below is a transcription of the conversation:
“Okay, so let’s start with you. Yes, you, man with the long hair and red robe.”
“Jimzoth sees all, and the thoughts in your head. The thoughts of wet skin, which pulsates and drip; slow echoes of her soft cries as you ease yourself into her hot flesh, gently stir your mind which rests, sends soothing waves, like the sparkling rolls in disturbed water under the moonlight, through your brain, as you feel her collect her body, uneasily shifting with each move you make – her contractions squeezing you, her fluids rushing over you.”
“You’re a sexual deviant. The sex addiction office is right next door. Wrong room.”
“Jimzoth did not see.”
“Okay guys, anyways. I will trust, lest we become hornier, that we are all here because you have problems with alcohol. Well, the first thing you need to do is admit you have a problem. Everyone say it together, ‘I have a problem with alcohol.’” Faces turned, but in a succession, and finally in unison, ‘I have a problem with alcohol’ fell over their lips.
“Superb. Okay. So, next is you need to believe there is a higher power. And that this higher power will help you get rid of your addiction.” He continued.
“However, because some people don’t believe in God, we’re instead supplying God Juice. Really simple. All you have to do to believe in a higher power, while using this really easy alternative, is take this syringe…Slip it through your skin like this… Aggh… Aaannnnddd… Push down…”
“Phew, this stuff is pretty good. Okay, so who doesn’t believe in God?” Everyone’s hands shot up.
“Okay, well, you need to come to every AA session to get more God Juice.” He said as he reached into a box, and began handing out tiny bottles, with needles taped to their sides, to eager hands.
We observed Rudy Chaprone twenty four hours later to make sure he was attending his AA meetings via his kitchen window. We observed him digging his finger tips into his forehead, slathering it in oil leaking from his pores, with sweat creeping down his neck, which tightened as though the droplets were ice cold – a clear indicator of the hellish depths of his alcoholic addiction.
Thankfully he attended AA again, although while rolling his bloodshot eyes as though eagerly waiting for it end, and then quickly grasped the God Juice supplied at the end of the session. Curious of his progress, we once again viewed him through his kitchen window – behind which we were able to invalidate our concerns, as he was in fact not consuming alcohol. Instead, he was shoving a needle in his vein, quickly adapting to God via God Juice.
Day after day, he attended AA, receiving his God Juice, readily giving himself to a higher power as he applied pressure on the tab of the syringe.
However, we are sad to report, that Rundy did not make his last AA meeting, seeing as he was found dead on his houses floor, eyes shadowed with deep circles, and his skin chilled – multiple perforations found on his arm. Autopsy is pending, but skeptics are lead to believe that the God Juice was in fact heroin or morphine, and suggest that Randy simply overdosed.
Our condolences to Rudy Chaprone, his parents, and fifty children.
“Maan fuck all y’all, I was thinkin’ I had some purpose here an’ shit, but nah dawgs, ya’ll never seen Rudy Chaprone in any news reports unless he be getting’ eatin by lions, or dyin’ from toxic crayons!
“Rudy, what do you have to say about the allegations that the FAWX news team mistreats you?”
“Man get dose fuckin’ cameras outta my face dawg, only reason you be’ trippin is ‘cause it be national peace and sanity day. When they ain’t nothin’ goin on, y’all come to Rudy! Shiiit, at least you could be doin’ more to hurt me, just so’z I got mo’ work.”
“Rudy, what do you think about FAWX news policy, which states to immediately terminate employees who show signs of shooting up the work place?” I looked over at Mark, clasping a beer can, chugging down five in the course of a minute as Rudy apparently mulled over my eyes, staring in them with an angry intensity. I heard Mark’s breath shoot into the tube of a Breathalyzer, unwittingly within shot of the camera.
“Probably some bullllllshit.”
“Breathalyzer indicates an alcohol content of 50.0.” Mark whispered in my ear.
“Rudy, how do you respond to accusations that your alcohol bloodpoint average is well above lethal limits?”
“Yo what?!”
Rudy Chaprone is currently being admitted to AA services to help him cope with his addiction to alcohol, however the possibility of concealed weaponry, in a means to enter a rampage to spill the blood of many innocents as an effective method of stress relief - precludes admittance into AA. A full body cavity search was conducted, and no armaments were located.
With a look of horror painted on his face, he sat in a circle with fellow alcoholics, feeling both shamed and relieved, while a man rattled his clipboard, feverishly trying to attach a piece of paper under the clip. At 8PM, as the FAWX news team observed him from the window as discreetly as possible [not], he began to possibly show signs of alcoholic urges. He brought afinger towards his scalp, and scratched it almost fiendishly, as if to relieve liquid temptations. Below is a transcription of the conversation:
“Okay, so let’s start with you. Yes, you, man with the long hair and red robe.”
“Jimzoth sees all, and the thoughts in your head. The thoughts of wet skin, which pulsates and drip; slow echoes of her soft cries as you ease yourself into her hot flesh, gently stir your mind which rests, sends soothing waves, like the sparkling rolls in disturbed water under the moonlight, through your brain, as you feel her collect her body, uneasily shifting with each move you make – her contractions squeezing you, her fluids rushing over you.”
“You’re a sexual deviant. The sex addiction office is right next door. Wrong room.”
“Jimzoth did not see.”
“Okay guys, anyways. I will trust, lest we become hornier, that we are all here because you have problems with alcohol. Well, the first thing you need to do is admit you have a problem. Everyone say it together, ‘I have a problem with alcohol.’” Faces turned, but in a succession, and finally in unison, ‘I have a problem with alcohol’ fell over their lips.
“Superb. Okay. So, next is you need to believe there is a higher power. And that this higher power will help you get rid of your addiction.” He continued.
“However, because some people don’t believe in God, we’re instead supplying God Juice. Really simple. All you have to do to believe in a higher power, while using this really easy alternative, is take this syringe…Slip it through your skin like this… Aggh… Aaannnnddd… Push down…”
“Phew, this stuff is pretty good. Okay, so who doesn’t believe in God?” Everyone’s hands shot up.
“Okay, well, you need to come to every AA session to get more God Juice.” He said as he reached into a box, and began handing out tiny bottles, with needles taped to their sides, to eager hands.
We observed Rudy Chaprone twenty four hours later to make sure he was attending his AA meetings via his kitchen window. We observed him digging his finger tips into his forehead, slathering it in oil leaking from his pores, with sweat creeping down his neck, which tightened as though the droplets were ice cold – a clear indicator of the hellish depths of his alcoholic addiction.
Thankfully he attended AA again, although while rolling his bloodshot eyes as though eagerly waiting for it end, and then quickly grasped the God Juice supplied at the end of the session. Curious of his progress, we once again viewed him through his kitchen window – behind which we were able to invalidate our concerns, as he was in fact not consuming alcohol. Instead, he was shoving a needle in his vein, quickly adapting to God via God Juice.
Day after day, he attended AA, receiving his God Juice, readily giving himself to a higher power as he applied pressure on the tab of the syringe.
However, we are sad to report, that Rundy did not make his last AA meeting, seeing as he was found dead on his houses floor, eyes shadowed with deep circles, and his skin chilled – multiple perforations found on his arm. Autopsy is pending, but skeptics are lead to believe that the God Juice was in fact heroin or morphine, and suggest that Randy simply overdosed.
Our condolences to Rudy Chaprone, his parents, and fifty children.
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