How To Cornhole a Rabid Moose

Archie Bluto was a fukin brute. A real fukin brute. He was the meanest man in five counties. Some days he would walk into a small village and cornhole everything that wasn’t bolted down. Other days he would wake up, roll a couple bums, beat up some police officers and then finish the morning by bench pressing a forest of oak.
One September morning, though, everything changed. That morning he saw the most beautiful girl that he had ever laid eyes on. Archie was cornholing a squirrel family near the lake. As he was cleaning himself off in the water he saw this fair maiden floating around in an inflatable raft. He swam up to her and introduced himself.
“Top of the morning to you mam,” he said. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out on this lake all alone.”
“Is that right? And why so?”
“There are toxic shitlogs floating everywhere. Theres a good chance that your boat could decay in an oily pool of acidic diarrhea. All sorts of dangerous things.”
“So how is it that you can swim in this lake then?”
“I’ve built up a tolerance to the dangers here. I’ve been swimming here since I was a kid.”
“That’s fukin swell,” she said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my floating.”
“I’ll see you around,” said Archie.
“Oh I doubt that. I’m just visiting my aunt.”
“Your aunt? Who’s your aunt?”
“Margot Gwognappskid”
“No kidding. We’re old friends.”
“Really, what’s your name?”
“Archie Bluto.”
“The Archie Bluto? The one that cornholed a new hole into my aunt’s hip. The Archie Bluto that knocked my uncle to the ground with 15 lbs of limp dick?”
“Uhhh. Well that’s not exactly what happened, but more or less.”
“You should be ashamed of yourself. Picking on our elders. These people should be respected and taken care of, not abused and sodomized. Now if you would kindly get the fuk out of here.” She closed her eyes and laid back in her raft.
Archie swam to the bank and walked home. When he opened his door, there was a package on the table.
“A package for me,” he said to no one in particular. He opened it up and there was a spandex tuxedo and a top hat. Archie read the card in the box. “For your brother’s wedding. Love, Mom.” His very own tuxedo.
Archie tried it on and checked himself out in the mirror. A first class fit indeed! He grabbed a couple kegs of beer and ran back to the lake.
The beautiful girl was just getting out of the lake as he arrived.
“Please let me help you with that,” said Archie. He picked up the inflatable boat, popped the air cap, and crushed it into the size of a marble.
“Thank you very much Archie. My name is Beatrots by the way.”
“Beatrots it’s very nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but I might accidentally crush it. I did bring some lunch though if you are interested.”
“Sure. I was just going to go into town to get some sandwiches, but I don’t have to.”
Archie ripped the top off a keg and set it down for Beatrots.
“Beer? For lunch?”
“Yeah. It’s good beer. Real earthy.”
“I hate to spoil your offer, but I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Oh. No alcohol? I could kill a warthog. You like warthog skillets?”
“Actually I’ve never had warthog,” she said. “I come from the city. We eat hamburgers and gummy food.”
“Oh.”
“Listen Archie. I would like to have lunch with you, I really would. But I’ve heard a lot of awful things about you. I don’t know if I like the way you treat people.”
“I know. It’s just, I’m misunderstood. My parents horse whipped me as a kid. I’ve never been able to get that feeling out of my head. And, well, I just can’t control myself. But, and this is a strange thing to say, but you really put me at peace. I know I don’t even know you but it’s true. I just wanted to say that. Take it as a compliment or however you want.”
“Archie. You don’t know a damn thing about me and I know way too much about you. I think it’s best to just part ways. I have to get back to my aunt’s and pack.”
“What a shame. Alright, I guess I’ll sit here and finish all this beer by myself.”
Beatrots walked back to her aunt’s house and told her about Archie.
“That rotten rotten fukhole,” said her aunt.
“He was actually very civil. I almost felt sorry for him.”
“Sorry for him? The biggest asshole in five counties? Missy, you need to get packed cause I’ve got to go to my bunco game tonight.”
“Yes auntie.”
Aunt Margot Gwognappskid drove Beatrots to the train station as the sun was going down. She waited as Beatrots got on the train. It departed exactly forty seven seconds after it’s scheduled time.
Beatrots opened the magazine she brought for the journey and read the column about turbo sex.
They were about an hour out of the station when the train screeched to a violent halt. The conductor alerted the patrons to the delay on the loudspeaker.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, but there appears to be a man engaging in carnal activity with a three thousand pound moose on the tracks. We can’t move ahead until he finishes his deed.”
It figures, thought Beatrots. A similar thing happened on her way to her aunt’s just last week except that time it was five men and three water buffalos. Then a crazy thought went through her mind. She leaned out the window and looked up the tracks. Yep. It was Archie. She called out to him.
“I hope you’re not trying to impress me,” she yelled.
“Is that you Beatrix? I know you don’t impress easily. I just wanted a good way to stop the train. I think we really had something back there. I couldn’t let you leave town without at least getting to know you a little more.”
“I felt the same way. Why don’t you hop in here and we can talk. There’s a lot of people waiting to get home.”
“In a minute,” yelled Archie. “I’ve got to finish up. If I leave this moose unsatisfied, it’ll lay down on this track until a porcupine crawls up it’s ass.”
And with a couple brisk pumps, Archie blew a nut. The moose explode into a fine particle mist and Archie spun around chopping down trees with his wang. He cleaned up and hopped into the train.
“Why don’t we start over,” he said. “My name is Archie Bluto.”

  • By Archie Bluto, May 18, 2005 @ 11:10 pm

    Half of this story is pure horse shit. The other half doesn’t even do justice to the event. Cornhole a gypsy!

  • By RK1 FREZZY, June 1, 2005 @ 1:03 am

    Thats the main ingredients for cat worm meatloaf.

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