Clint Black, Boobs HellCunt and The SkeleTwins™
So I bumped into those two anorexic Australian bitches, BoneFace and DryHole I think they are named and jointly dubbed (by me) as The SkeleTwins™ back stage at the Country Music Awards in New York. -- No seriously -- I really did BUMP into them. It was awful.
CRACK SNAP CRIK KAK the sound of bones knocking together echoes throughout the backstage area.
"HOLY SHIT! ARE YOU OK? I'M SOOO SORRY" I say as I reach down to pick them up. They look like -- well -- ha ha -- I pile of fricken bones!! HA HA HA.
"D on 't wh -- wh---- whhhhoor ----- whooory ----worry abvvvv...."
One of them is trying to say something but it just sounds like the dying breath of, well, you know, a near death anorexic.
"Do nnnn 't wwhhhhhhhhoooooorry abv abffffff hhuuuuuuu about itiiihhh."
"Excuse me? What? I can't understand you, too much dust coming out and the wiggly teeth and...."
"She said don't worry about it."
"Who are you? Are you like their translator or something?"
"No, my name is Boobs Hellcunt. I'm their agent."
"Wait , I'm sorry, did I break any of your bones? HA HA as if I couldn't tell. I'm mean you can like totally see every fucking single one of them! Am I right or what? Merkley is my name. Nice to meet you. Ha ha -- I said MEET -- and you're all BONES! Get it?
"Nniiic nni nice th th thooo meeennt yooouhhha" Mumbled the other one with a mouth that looks like an antique wallet containing a dried out vienna sausage."
"Excuse me? I didn't get that. You sound like a deflating air matress. Speak up."
"She said nice to meet you" Boobs Hellcunt Their Agent says as she adjusts her heavy wool skirt.
"Ffuuh ddrrru pffffffffff guh guh guh." The other twin poots.
"Anyway... Hey ladies..." I say, "I just saw your segment on Inside Edition with Pat O'Brien and by the looks of it I thought you were almost dead, what the fuck are you doing back stage at the Country Music Awards?"
"Whhhhe whhhhhe well, uhhhhh..."
"I Caaannnn't understaaaannnnd yooooouuuuuu."
"Clint Black saw them on The Inside Edition and really felt their pain and really wanted to do something so he gave them both jobs." Snapped Boobs HellCunt, their Agent.
"Well geez, that's terrific, I saw on TV that the outpouring of support has been phenomenal."
"Yeeeeaahh uuh huhuuuuuuuuuu wwhhhiiiiiiiii....."
"I also saw on TV that you two both put on a little weight, like 15 pounds each and like you're up to 54 pounds a piece. That's terrific..."
BoneFace's and Dryhole's faces both crack out sideways and dust begins blowing from their eyes -- like maybe they are trying to smile or cry or some shit.
"Shhhhh, can I talk to you privately?" Boobs HellCunt Their Agent whispersquawks as she grabs my arm and pulls me aside. She is grabbing my arm really hard. It hurts.
"Ow, what the..."
"DO NOT MENTION WEIGHT GAIN! It freaks them out. I don't want them to lose their jobs."
"Well, geez, isn't that the point of this whole deal, to get them to put on some weight so they stop being all shriveled and boney and lizardy and so they won't die?"
"NO! you IDIOT. Their jobs depend on them being skeleton FREAks!"
"Oh you mean so all these Inside Edition cameras and Pat O'Brien sticks around, like for fame and shit?"
"YES but not just that you stupid bearded moron."
Just then a loud cheer erupts from the audience as the N'Sync Johnny Cash tribute number comes to a close. There is a lot of commotion backstage as a new set is shuffled onto the stage. Two jerky scented stage hands grab the SkeleTwins™ and hurry them out onto the stage. The rattling bones sound is awesome, kinda like those wooden hippie wind chimes. I feel very relaxed.
"Well gee whiz" I say "Clint black really must be a good guy if he's giving these girls like actual performer's positions. Are they back up singers? Ha ha -- or no -- I know, they are the Xylophone sticks ha ha ha -- I'm hilarious."
"Just then Clint Black rushes by me on his way to the stage. The rim of his hat slices off the top of my head and my brain bounces out on to the ground. For some reason it doesn't hurt and I feel just fine, but I notice my brain smells like cabbage.
The lights go up -- the crowd roars, I look out onto the stage. To my horror, Clint Black appears to be strangling BoneFace or DryHole, I can't tell which is which.
"What the fuck is he doing? Somebody stop him!" I yell as one of my eyeballs rolls back into the empty bowl that used to be my brain compartment and I notice that there is a lot of earwax about one millimeter from my eyeball.
My other eye can still see the stage and I rush towards it to try to help the poor anorexic freak being strangled by Clint Black.
"STOP THAT YOU JERK!!" Just then I feel a squash under my foot and I realize that I have stepped on my own brain which for some reason doesn't hurt, in fact it kinda tickles my bladder. I fall to the ground and my eyeballs both roll out of my head, one of them rolls right to the feet of Boobs HellCunt and is pointing right up her wool skirt and I can see exactly why they call her HellCunt because there is clearly a Satanic Goat Head coming out of her pentagram shaped hoowang. My other eyeball rolls out onto the stage where I can see the other SkeleTwin™ being strangled by one of Clint Black's back up singers. Both Clint Black and the back up singer are screaming directly into the terrified bony skull of their respective SkeleTwin™. The whole thing is just plain wrong. I mean I knew that country singers were all hicks and backwards as fuck but hiring two helpless skeletons just to beat them up in front of a cheering crowd is SICK I tell you.
Alright, I'm sick of writing this stupid story. The joke was going to be that it turns out that the fucking Skeletwins™ were hired to be Clint Black's mic stands. HA HA HA I know, I'm a genius. I should have just come out and said it, but I really wanted my detached eyeball to look up HellCunts skirt and I always thought it would be cool to get my cranium sliced off by Clint Blacks cowboy hat. I also had a joke where Clint Black doesn't brush his teeth so little flecks of plaque along with the tiny bits of jerky and chewing tobacco flying out of his mouth while he sings directly into their open mouthed, microphone holding heads therefore providing the Skeletwins™ with just enough nourishment to continue their employment but not enough to stop them from being functional, non-upstaging mic stands. Also there was a Pat O'Brien joke wherein he wants to lube up DryHole's dry hole with a bit of my brain so he could skull fuck her and then because my brain is the lube I have a dream that I'm his penis and her eye socket is the all seeing eye and it's all super spiritual and uplifitng but, hey -- sometimes you get sick of writing a story before you're done with it so that's all you get. Fuck off.
Now here are some lovely pictures of Latrice Barnett.
The SkeleTwins™ actual names are Rachel and Clare Wallmeyer. I want them to find this when they Google. Hi SkeleTwins™! Hope you liked my story!
That's all for now!
Dont get caught quitting what would have probably won your first Pulitzer Prize!
Your Pulitzer Prize Foregoer,
Harry S. Truman