let it all collapse, the icon for the www.punkerslut.com website
Home Articles Critiques Books Video
About Graphics CopyLeft Links Music
  • Back to index of Gutter Punk: Young and Homeless
  • Gutter Punk: Young And Homeless

    Chapter 32

    By Punkerslut

    No Masters, No Slaves
    Image: From "Anarchy" Gallery from FreedomInYourMind

    Start Date: April 26, 2003
    Finish Date: January 27, 2004

    Gunner walks over and finds Kevin and Paul.

    KEVIN: No, dude, I'm telling you... A 40 of Steel Reserve has more alcohol than a single normal beer mixed with three shots.

    PAUL: Then how is it that a 40 of Steel Reserve only gets me buzzed, but a normal beer with three shots will put me on my knees?

    KEVIN: Look, it's not my fault that your homosexual tendencies arise when you drink. It's just...

    PAUL (laughing): Dude, fuck you!

    KEVIN: Look, I drink three 40s of Steel Reserve, and I'm in a fuckin' wheel chair after that.

    PAUL: What's the best part about fucking a vegetable? When you're done, you have put her back in her wheel chair.

    KEVIN: You know, I'm pretty sure that the joke begins with, "What's the WORST part about fucking a vegetable?" ... Maybe other sexual tendencies arise during sobriety.

    PAUL: Yeah, sexual tendencies like I fucked your girlfriend last night.

    KEVIN: Which one?... oh, hey, check it out. It's Gunner.

    GUNNER: The fuck is up, guys?

    KEVIN: Not much. You were looking pretty bad before. You okay now?

    GUNNER: Yeah, kinda thirsty. Anyone have any beer?

    Paul, who has a backpack, opens it, and pulls out a beer, hands it to Gunner.

    GUNNER: Thanks... So, what the fuck did you guys do today so far?

    PAUL: Well, it's almost five... So I've been up for a good three hours.

    GUNNER: Hey, didn't you have school today?

    PAUL: You're a piece of shit.

    GUNNER: I know I am.

    KEVIN: Nah, Gunner's the fucking shit.

    Kevin puts his arm around Gunner's shoulder, and pulls him close, their heads touching for a brief moment, and then releases.

    PAUL: Yeah, I just called him a piece of shit.

    KEVIN: Paul, shut up before you're wearing my boot as a hat.

    PAUL: I -- I don't get it?

    KEVIN: I 'unno... These creative methods of threatening people are sometimes straining. The first two years I had it down, but then after a while, I figure just use words like, "boot," "hat," "ass," "teeth," "face," with verbs like "stick in," "break off," "choke on," "shove down," "wear," and after mixing up them up in a sentence, just hope that it comes out good.

    PAUL: Hey, Kevin... You keep talking and I'll make sure my boot gives you some severe constipation.

    KEVIN: See, that came out really good.

    PAUL: No, I was actually threatening you there.

    KEVIN: Oh... In that case, uuuummmmm, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you.

    GUNNER: The various forms of a threat of physical violence... My best friends in this world wouldn't be talking about anything but this.

    KEVIN: Aw, thanks, dude.

    PAUL: I don't know. That sounds a bit condescending.

    GUNNER: Paul, go give someone a sexual favor or something.

    KEVIN: Oooo, that was definitely an abstract art form of the physical threat, because there was no real threat.

    PAUL: Speaking of sexual favors...

    KEVIN: Yeah, what about your mom?

    PAUL: Dude, fuck you.... Speaking of sexual favors, I got tested today, as part of my routine hygiene.

    GUNNER: Yeah, I have hygiene. I wipe front to back.

    KEVIN: Unnecessary, Gunner. Un. Nec. Ess. Ary.

    GUNNER: Oh, I suppose you do it back to front?

    KEVIN: Please, do we have to talk about this?

    PAUL: I was negative on everything, which is good.

    GUNNER: Why the fuck would you worry about that? It's not like you're homeless. You're a fucking house punk.

    PAUL: Eat my shit.

    GUNNER: No, thanks, I've already had Hepatitis A.

    KEVIN: Ha, dude, I've had like, Hepatitis A, B, C... Fuck, I've had Hepatitis Alphabet.

    GUNNER: The fact that you're still alive is a modern marvel attributed to the strength of human bodies.

    KEVIN: There are five thousand ways to say I'm fucking cool, and that was just one of them.

    Tank walks along.

    GUNNER: Hey, Tank... The fuck is up?

    TANK: Not much, partner... The hell is going on?

    GUNNER: Oh, you know, benders and whatnot.

    TANK: You? On a bender? No.... way.... Say, I'll buy one of your cigars, though?

    GUNNER: Huh?

    TANK: In this little box right here.

    Tank reaches down in a cigar box and picks up a cigar out of it.

    GUNNER: The fuck...

    Gunner goes over and looks. There's a cigar box, with a piece of newspaper next to it, that has sharpie on it, "Cigars -- 50 Cents -- Non-Negotiable."

    GUNNER: Now, how the fuck is it that after fifteen minutes of us talking, I didn't notice that fucking thing there?

    KEVIN: Oh, I don't know... maybe it has to do with your binging on mind-altering substances? The world may never know the answer to these puzzling questions.

    GUNNER: You sound so sarcastic. Now I'm throwing into doubt the time you said you had sex with Whoopi Goldberg.

    KEVIN: I never said that.

    GUNNER: Oh, yeah, just like you never said you find Hillary Clinton attractive.

    KEVIN: Dude, she's not that bad.

    GUNNER: I... was joking.

    KEVIN: Still, she's not bad.

    PAUL: You make me sick.

    KEVIN: How can it? I thought a pile of shit with peanuts would give you a fucking erection.

    GUNNER: Must we degrade ourselves to this?

    TANK: Anyway, here's the two quarters for the cigar.

    KEVIN: No, no, dude, that cigar is yours, take it free of charge. Gunner, you take one, too.

    Gunner reaches in and takes one.

    GUNNER: Don't mind if I do. Anyone got a light?

    TANK: Yeah, sure, here...

    Tank throws him a lighter, Gunner lights up, and throws it back to Tank.

    TANK: Well, I gotta make some tracks. I'll see you kids around later. Be safe and be strong.... or be dangerous and intoxicated.

    KEVIN: Right on.

    Tank leaves.

    GUNNER: How in the fuck did you guys get a box of cigars?

    KEVIN: We walked into that flea market near the feeding area, and we like, took a box of cigars, and basically walked out.

    GUNNER: No resistance by the store owner?

    KEVIN: Well, before we left, I said, "Sir, you just got robbed," and then we kept walking. It wasn't the owner, just a clerk, so not like they would give a flying fuck.

    Gunner takes a long puff on his cigar. Spike and Lily show up.

    SPIKE: Hey, Gunner, Kevin... Guess what we just did.

    GUNNER: You had sex.

    KEVIN: Underneath a bridge.

    PAUL: In prison uniforms.

    GUNNER: Paul.... Go back to school.

    PAUL: Fuck you, Gunner.

    SPIKE: We got married.

    GUNNER: Aw, fucking cool, dude!

    LILY: Yeah, I want to be with him forever.

    SPIKE: Check out the wedding rings!

    Spike points to a lip ring he has, and so does Lily.

    PAUL: Hey, I bet that makes sex even better.

    KEVIN: You still need to take a class of sex education, Paul.

    PAUL: That might be true, but fuck you.

    GUNNER: That's a pretty cool idea that you got lip rings instead of like, finger rings.

    KEVIN: I totally fucking dig them.

    SPIKE: Are you selling cigars?

    KEVIN: Ever since I was five years old, I can remember always wanting to be an unlicensed tobacco salesmen, like one of the Injuns, but one of the cool ones with a mohawk, none of that Cherokee poser shit.

    GUNNER: Do you realize how many ethnic groups you just offended there?

    KEVIN: Heh, oh damn, right... Jeeze, it seems like whenever I talk these days, I tend to indecently offend someone. Like that one time there was a rally for some mayor, and it was a woman, so I had a sign that said, "Cunts Can't Carry on War." I thought we had a first amendment in the Constitution for a moment, but apparently it hasn't been ratified after 200 years.

    SPIKE: Dude, since when did we have a Constitution?

    GUNNER: Very fucking nice. (smile)

    join the punkerslut.com
    mailing list!

    copyleft notice and
    responsibility disclaimer