EVIL GLENNS FATHERS DAY

(A FILTHY LIE)

It was just another night of polite and friendly comaraderie at Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon....

Harv: Yo bitch! Beer me!

Bartender: Blow me

Harv: I was thinking more of a Guinness, actually. By the way, what are you getting me for Father's Day.

Bartender: How about a nice swift kick in the nuts? Why should I get YOU anything?

Harv: Hey, I'm your blogpop. I deserve a little sumthin' for talking you into inflicting your special brand of bitter assholery on the world at large.

Bartender: And I deserve to have a million dollars and a big-titty hooker for putting up with your shit, but you don't see me crying like a sissy girl about it.

Harv: I'm not feelin' the love here.

Bartender: I've got a Louisville Slugger under the bar. Wanna feel that upside your head? It's sorta like love.

Harv: I get enough of that from my wife. I'll settle for the Guinness.

...Just as the Bartender was setting my glass of dark ambrosia on the bar, a pale, gaunt figure dressed sporting a silk tophat and a black cape strolled casually into the room, his blood-sucking fangs gleaming dimly under the saloon's pale lighting. I could tell by his socks and sandals that it was...

Harv: Evil Glenn! Quick, Bartender, toss me a wooden stake!

Bartender [tossing stake]: Catch!

Harv: Die, vampire! *STAB*

Evil Glenn: AIEEEEEEE!

Bartender: Uh, Harv? I think you're supposed to stab him in the heart, not the groin.

Harv: Oops. My bad.

Evil Glenn: Look, you don't have to stab me anywhere. I just came to ask you a favor.

Bartender: What's the favor?... On second thought, why don't we start with a better question, like why the f*** should we help you, ya evil son of a bitch?

Evil Glenn: We'll start with the favor. Father's day is coming and I miss my son who's been missing for years. You Alliance guys are always doing sneaky undercover reasearchy kinda stuff involving various aspects of my life. I figured that your talents would be perfectly suited for the challenge.

Harv: Yes, we are devilishly clever, aren't we?

Bartender: Just get to the "why the f***" part?

Evil Glenn: If you don't help me, I'll take this here puppy [producing cutest, fuzziest, cuddliest puppy you ever saw from one pocket] and stuff him in this here blender [producing Ronco Port-o-Blen-o-Matic 3000 from other pocket]

Harv: I wanna hear more about how devilishly clever we are instead!

Bartender: Forget it Harv, he's got us bent over & ball-gagged on this one. Guess we better help the filthy, no-good, blackmailing bastard.

Evil Glenn: Lawyer. Anyway, the last time I saw my son, an obsessive vampire hunter named Holtz had grabbed him away from me and leaped through a tear in the fabric of reality into a foul hell-dimension, and...

Harv: Glenn... not to pick nits or anything, but that wasn't you. That happened during an episode of Angel. Somewhere in the third season, if I remember correctly.

Evil Glenn: Huh? Oh, wait... let me check my notes... Ah... actually, the last time I saw my son, Barnard Hughes had just driven his jeep through the wall of the house, causing a piece of wood to impale...

Bartender: Dumbass! That was "The Lost Boys". Geez! You didn't exactly study for this quiz, did you?

Evil Glenn: That's not important. I need you to help me find my son, or the puppy gets it.

Harv: Ok, tell ya what. Just give us the puppy and we'll find your son for you.

Evil Glenn: How do I know you won't double-cross me?

Harv: Hey, we're the GOOD GUYS, remember? Now give me the puppy.

Evil Glenn: Well... ok. Here...

Harv: Ya know, Bartender, you're right. He IS a dumbass. Toss me another stake.

Bartender [tossing stake]: Catch!

Harv: Die, vampire! *STAB*

Evil Glenn: AIEEEEEEE! [runs away into the night]

Bartender: Heart, not groin.

Harv: Groin's more fun. Now pour me another beer...

... Thirty beers later...

Harv: I'm bored. What's on TV?

Bartender: Do I look like f****** tvguide.com? Try whackin' the "on" button, ya retarded gerbil felcher.

Harv: Sheesh! That PMS is really kicking your ass, Bartender. Go pop some Midol. [turns on TV]

CNN Announcer: Repeating our top story... the Dark Overlord of the Blogosphere, Glenn Reynolds, was reunited with his son tonight at a touching ceremony in West Hollywood. Reynolds and his son, Michael Moore, were seen embracing at...

...*CRASH!*...*TINKLE*...

Bartender: You asshole! Why the f*** did you smash my TV with a barstool?

Harv: I saw Michael Moore and I struck at him in a frenzy of uncontrolled violence. Perfectly natural reaction.

Bartender: Sure, if you're a goddamn FREAK!

Harv: So why are you holding that Loisville Slugger?

Bartender [noticing the bat in his hands which is still poised for TV-smashing]: You shut up!

Harv [wonderingly]: Michael Moore... Huh... I never suspected that he'd be related to a puppy-blending, Satan-worshipping, Hobo-murdering, Mao-idolizing, robot-dancing, Frank J.-punching, penguin-porn afficianado who wears socks and sandals.

Bartender: Oh, you mean you can't imagine that Glenn would have anything in common with a fact-and-fiction-blending, bullshit-worshipping, truth-murdering, Clinton-idolizing, rhythmic-flab-jiggling, Academy-award-podium-thumping, Iraqi-prisoner-abuse-porn afficianado who wears filthy hats and bum-stubble?

Harv: Exactly

Bartender: Yeah, life is really strange sometimes. So, you want your Father's Day present now?

Harv: I thought you said you didn't get me anything?

Bartender: I was just yankin' yer chain. Here. [pushing clumsily duct-taped package across the bar]

Harv [tearing madly at the wrapping]: YAY! A present! It's... *rip-rip-rip*... WOW! The July issue of "Hefty Hooters" magazine!

Bartender: Check the centerfold.

Harv: Susie?

Bartender: As if those delectable large fonts could belong to anyone else.

Harv: Thanks, Bartender! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go... uh... practice my wood-handling skills... um... so that my next encounter with Evil Glenn can end with:

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!