Recently I typed up an account of the real G’s misadventures in “My Fault… Sorry episode 3.” The thing is, there is much more to this tale than meets the eye.

The “G” you have been introduced to is not me. You see, that G inherited a bunch a odd technical gadgets like his aforementioned time machine. It has more powers than just time travel. You know he can teleport, bring people with him, and enter fictional realities… what else can he do? You’ll have to be patient sunshine!

He also has a cloning machine. That’s how I got here. I’m “Clone G version 12.” Usually I just go by “Clone G” since the previous 11 clones are no longer with us. But that’s a story for another day.

One day when he went to work (which I don’t understand why he even bothers to do since he can teleport to a bank vault and just take money), I released my shackles on the couch and cloned the time machine. I have it hidden for emergency situations. G has no clue the shackles are unlocked.

Life as a clone is pretty boring. Sometimes Armchair MVP comes out of his cage on the stairs and plays NHL 2010 with me. That is, whenever sports is not on (which is rare). G doesn’t even have to close his cage door, the TV keeps him in there.

Unlike THAT G, I have a sense of morals and ethics. I tend to be more grounded, but since I am a clone, I am also susceptible to falling victim to the same vices and stupidity as him. Especially if I start drinking…

This cloned time machine came in handy when I had to write about his adventure to the Morphine Nation Halloween party. It was an amazing tale that he got lazy about accounting for due to a nasty hangover… so as not to waste a precious story, I went to work. He takes credit for my work, what a dick.

The funny thing is that while you’ve already read what I ghost-wrote for that G’s account of his adventure, just trying to follow his illogical adventure in order to recap it turned into an adventure of my cloned-self’s own. Check it:

I’m sitting on the couch playing Left 4 Dead 2.

Sweet game, meanwhile G is drinking excessively and mumbling something about “getting a fukken fictional bear drunk.” POOF. He disappears.

Whatever. About three seconds later he reappears drunk as fuck and brandishing a knife.

“Hey MVP!” he shouts waving the blade for no reason.

“Fuck off I’m watching the Packers game,” MVP retorts.

“Dude, I gotta show you something, just pause the DVR. I’ll get you back quick”

MVP ignores him and starts yelling at the TV about a fumble or something. I don’t watch football, so couldn’t tell you why.

The real G reaches into the cage, grabs MVP by his Calgary Flames jersey and they both vanish!

“Shit” I say aloud to no one in particular. This isn’t looking good for my pal MVP!!! A drunken knife wielding G is not a safe G. I realize I have to take care of the big baby MVP. My thinking is that he is off to hang with Yogi so I set my location for Jellystone National Park. He was talking about getting bears drunk… this can’t turn out good.

I grab my Louis Riel shirt for luck and POOF!! I’m gone. In hindsight, if I had waited a few more minutes G would have returned with MVP safe and sound. None of the following would have been necessary. Unfortunately like the real G, sometimes I don’t fix my mistakes.

I arrive at Jellystone and notice a cooler full of beer which I promptly drink. Bad idea in retrospect, I am starting to act more like my genetically similar “brother.”

I see Yogi and Boo Boo who are holding picnic baskets. I ask the smarter than the average bear if he’s seen a “me” around recently.

“No G hasn’t travelled here yet,” Yogi responds. I wonder how he would know that having never met G if that was the case. Being drunker as the alcohol rushes through my bloodstream, I punt Boo Boo and his basket like 90 feet.

Remarkably aerodynamic

“Touchdown!” I yell. ”

“That’s a punt for a field goal attempt, dipshit,” growls Yogi who starts coming at me Wolverine-style.

Time to POOF! I’ll try another bear.

I appear in the Rocky Mountains and notice a bear wearing a ranger outfit. Fucking strange. This bear doesn’t know anything either. I’m impressed by how many bears can actually talk.

He’s such a pimp

Frustrated, I dump the gasoline I was carrying into some dead underbrush. I turn away, light a smoke and walk away flicking the match behind me. In Hollywood fashion (see Dusk Till Dawn explosion), the forest goes up, and fast.

Somewhere Bambi’s mom dies. My bad, better get rolling before I die of smoke inhalation.

POOF! I try Gentle Ben. Ben doesn’t speak, nor appear drunk so I bail. I don’t do anything to that bear, he’s gentle after all. He might break.

Just before I leave my eyes are drawn to something shiny (I am G’s clone after all). Score! I pick up a baby hammer +3 (+6 against fictional babies). Unlike like the real G, I ALWAYS have room in my backpack.

POOF! Gummi Bears are next up. These fuckers are bouncing everywhere.

I’m pretty sure they have ADHD as they can’t stay focused long enough for me to even ask a question. I grab the red one, I think, and yell “Have you seen someone who looks like me?” No response. Fuck it, they’re made of candy right? I eat that prick of a bear. That candy sure tasted like uncooked meat if you ask me. I also find a 26 of tequila and wash the tendrils down.

POOF! Another Disney animated forest. In the distance I see some pig and a tiger. I think the tiger might be related to those fucking bouncing bears.

“Over here! Help me please!?!?”

I turn and notice some obese red-shirt wearing bear stuck in a hole. I start singing Alice in Chains classic “Down in a Hole.” Awesome song.

“Are you going to help me?”

“Have you seen anyone who looks EXACTLY like me today?” I respond, pissed off the fat scavenger interrupted my singing.

“… umm… no… please help?”

“You’re going to die in there shit-eater. Try a diet.”

Ok, I’m running out of ideas and fast. I ponder my options for fictional bears as the Pooh Bear weeps in the background. I need help… who knows pop culture as well, if not, better than my cloned-ass?

Hmm….

STRODE!! I need Laurie_Strode!

POOF!!! I appear at Laurie’s pad. She’s a cool chick and immediately passes me more alcohol which I immediately consume. “Hey Laurie,” I slur, “I’m G’s clone and he’s up to no good. He is off with my buddy MVP, wielding a knife, and trying to get a fictional bear drunk. I’ve tried every fictional bear I can think of except the three bears from that childrens’ story. I would’ve tried those bears, but G always says that they’re gay.”

You’re mad that a hot young blonde is sleeping in your bed? REALLY?

Laurie thinks for a second. “Berenstain, Clone G”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m Laurie_fukken_Strode. I’m not “sure,” I KNOW! Bee-Tee-Double-U, can I come along? I have a ton of extra liquor I can bring.”

“Ell-Oh-Ell,” I smile. “Saddle up… we ride…”

POOF! Laurie and I appear in what looks pretty close to the Berenstain woods. “Ok Laurie, here’s the deal. If G sees me, he’ll likely replace me with another clone. We cannot be seen, and need a disguise…. what would be good in the woods?”

“Ents, motherfucking Ents Clone-G,” she replies with confidence.

“You are brilliant!”

“natch!”

As we start assembling wood into our disguise, I get a shitload of splinters in my hands.

“Laurie.. ow.. fuck… splinters in typing hands… you… ow… got to… take over.”

“Why don’t you just type this after we’re done?” she asked.

“I do this… fukken ow!! … like I do wrestling reviews… OWW!! …while it happens… shit, help a brother out?”

Laurie looked confused, “You write the reviews?”

“Fuckballs OWWW!! … yeah…. he makes me… ow fuck this hurts… m-makes me do them…. takes credit… fuck!!”

Grimacing in pain I begin to remove the slivers and await Laurie’s decision…

Category: Comedy, Rants | Tags: ano, Arm Chair MVP, Berenstain Bears, Calgary Flames, clones, Ents, fiction, Gentle Ben, Gummi Bears, Halloween Party, J, knife, Laurie_Strode, lies, Moby Dick, My Fault, reality, seattle freeze, Smokey the Bear, time travel, total bullshit, Yogi, Yogi Bear // 5 Comments »