| Welcome to Wild World Forums. Right now, you're a guest. That sucks, seeing as you can't post or nothin'. That's why you join, so you can be a part of our amazing wonderful fun filled community! Regester here! If you're already a member, WTF, why ain't you logged in? ~Conspiracy of 1000 |
| Dog Ish Sandwich; an Offspring fanfiction XD | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Sep 9 2008, 04:19 PM (112 Views) | |
| Post #1 Sep 9 2008, 04:19 PM | Conspiracyof1000 |
I hope this doesn't suck. Don't hate me for it, either.
 ----------- Dog Ish Sandwich An Offspring Fanfic So it was one fine day in sunny Huntington Beach. The waves crashed welcomingly onto the beach, begging for some 40-year-old punk band members to go surfing. Unfortunately for the beach, no punkers were surfing today. Noodles wanted to. At the time, he was actually preparing to go out on the surf, prepping his board for the foamy waves. Dexter and Greg were watching. Well, not exactly watching Noodles. A dog was crapping along the beach every few feet. After about its sixth crap it shook and ran off into the surf. Dexter giggled and nudged Greg with his elbow. "Remember that video we did back when Conspiracy of One came out?" he sniggered. "..." said Greg, nodding. "So what do you say we..." He began whispering a maniac plan in Greg's ear. Greg's face split into a huge grin and then he ran off, laughing. Dexter made sure Noodles was still prepping, and waited for Greg to come back with the plastic bag. Dexter had it all planned out. After all, it was his idea when they made the Original Prankster video. It was a dog shit sandwich. The ultimate shameful act of shaming a friend. And Noodles was about to be shamed. Greg came running back, a box of plastic bags in his hand. "...!" Greg shouted. Dexter clapped his hands together evilly and began his ultimate plan. The bad part would be collecting the shit. Dexter wrapped a bag around each hand, watching Greg do the same and Noodles flirt with the lifeguards (even though he was married), and ran down for the beach. As he knelt, trying not to sniff the crap, the waves lapped up and washed the turd away. Dexter growled and chased after the next turd, which again got washed away by the waves. This chase crap-almost get it-it washes away chain continued until there was one turd left. Dexter eyed it hungrily, much like a cat eyes a mouse, causing Greg to groan in disgust and walk to their little spot in the shade to sip some lemonade. A moment later Dexter came tromping up the dune, looking disgruntled and wet. The dog crap was in the bag. Greg smirked at him, then returned to his magazine. Full of ladies. That's right. Even though he's married. "Jeez, chasing shit makes you tired...I'm hungry. Are you?" Dexter had flopped down on the sand under the umbrella, tossing the bag next to Greg, who cringed. "Gee yeah I'm hungry!" someone said from down the beach. Dexter looked up only to see his rival pop-punk band Green Day singer Billie Joe Armstrong walking along Huntington Beach, looking as pop-punkish as possible without looking gay. "Hey, I ain't talkin' to you!" Dexter shouted, leaping to his feet. "Not after you stole my age 10-to-15 audience!" He charged at Billie Joe, tackling him to the sand. The fistfight that ensued was short, ending when Dexter threw an unconscious Billie (and Tre Cool, and Mike whatever his last name is) into the sea, where they were promptly mauled by leopard seals that escaped from the zoo and then smashed by jetskis and, well, Dexter throwing copies of the CD Smash. "Take that, Dookie-makers! That's right! Smash sold so much better! In yo face Dookie-heads!" Greg shook his head, tilting his magazine to get..a...erm...better look. "So you still up for a sandwich?" Dexter muttered. "..." said Greg, nodding. Dexter, planning on making the shit sandwich to give to Noodles as well, walked off to the shanty. Inside, he prepared his brilliant shaming plan... Greg waited. And waited. He wanted his damn sandwich. He was hungry from looking at his porn, from trying to catch turds floating in the surf, from trying to keep the mutilated Billie Joe away from the umbrella. He grew bored of his girly magazine when he saw a picture of Pete Parada (worked him in somewhere yeah!) in a bikini. Finally he heard the crunch-crunch of Dexter walking down from the shanty with his sandwich. Yum. He stood to get his sandwich and grabbed the first one that appeared in his vision. Dexter quickly shouted at him to stop eating. Too late. "Who the FUCK do you think you are!?" Greg spat, spittle laced with ya-know-what flying toward Dexter. "The shit sandwich was for NOODLES, NOT ME!" Noodles, who had noticed Dexter had beer and foot, stopped short. Greg was in a rage, flinging his girly magazine at Dexter, who was just standing there, dumbstruck. Greg chucked the remaining part of the sandwich toward the sea, where Noodles conveniently happened to be standing. It hit his face with a splat and fell off slowly. Greg, fuming, pushed past Dexter, grabbing his beer, and went into the shanty. "So...another brilliant prank backfire?" Noodles asked, walking next to Dexter. He nodded slowly. "So much for being the original prankster." Dexter glared at him. -------------- |
THE REAL THING
  ![]](http://209.85.48.18/static/1/pip_r.png)
|
   
| |
 
|
 |
| Post #2 Sep 10 2008, 10:38 AM | steph |
My favourite part... 
|
Super Member
|
|
|
|
| « Previous Topic · Writing · Next Topic » |
7:18 AM Nov 27
