...the competitors were mid-rep on the benchoff when emerging from a shorebreak barrell was a 4'10" figure in 7/6mm wetsuite referred to as shar**** and the bro kept complaining about how cold the water was (72F), as well as the food chain issues at BelMar; Koki proceeded to take his shank and cut the kook's spiral leash claiming "locals only booger, go eat a dikkk in Starchy's bunker!"...
And then, around 4pm, they went surfing, but the swell had faded miserably by then, so they went home and did it all over again because their short term memories were toast.
That night the SI fellas dreamed of head high glass, but Shart Humper was dreaming of Wayne's schlong in his a$$.
Then Shart Huffer woke up, member in hand, mysterious wet spot on g-string. A strange rumbling noise was growing louder and louder, and he was compelled to open the shades of the van window to see what it was. The first thing he noticed was a strange WW2 style fighter plane, the kind with the open cockpit(when he thought that word a strange tingling sensation began), and the pilot was wearing a Red Baron cap and goggles. As the plane got closer he also noticed the pilot was Hindu, and had the word Sunil written on his cap. As the plane passed overhead, the Huffer's cockpit daydreams were ruined when he saw the Banner that the plane was flying boldly stated: FLY A BANNER FOR SHARK PRESERVATION.
Sunil flew low and buzzed along the sand so everyone could see his banner. Shart Hummer ran behind shouting made up stats about shark attacks and calling for a cull. From behind the dunes a suave looking gent appeared, and said, "I'm Big $ T Bag and I am the greatest, I have the most cash and bang the hottest hindus. He asked the Shart Licker out for a meal, and they left for McDonalds on his 10 speed bike.
But Sharc-unter didn't know that BMT was a wanted man. The Shred had grown tired of selling stocks, bonds and mutual funds and realized he was missing out on a bench-off at his favorite break. So he busted his boss's teeth out, jumped in his black 2015 Range Rover (fastest on the block) and shott over to the apartment of his hindu super-model honey in Hell's Kitchen where he kept the quiver he used when travelling abroad (like Hawaii or California): 5’9 x 18 1/4 x 2 1/4 EPS Fred Rubble 5’9 x 18 1/4 x 2 1/4 DFR 5’9 x 18 1/4 x 2 1/4 EPS F.R. 5’8 x 18 5/8 x 2 1/4 EPS Fred Rubble 5’6 x 18 7/8 x 2 5/16 EPS #4 Prototype He was crossing the street to retrieve his quiver cache when he encountered some fat kook walking his little dog. He didn't have the patients to wait so he skipped (ala zack) over the dog and...
All of a sudden, the Ghost of Andy Irons appeared. In a haze of ganja smoke and sea spray, Andy scolded Shred for being a pu$$y for pulling back on that last 23 foot barrell and doing the paddle of shame back to the dirty Jerzy shore.
A gay man screamed, "wait, don't you notice my poodles pretty braids? You can't step over her you stupid straight surfer biatch", and so started another trip to county for the shred, who had to punch the guys face and then ran from the cops, side swiping a toll booth with an ugly Hindu working it.
Big $ T Bag jumped on top of the toll booth Batman Style, he looked out at the cops and the gay poodle walker and said in a deep voice, "I'm the hero SI needs" then fast as an East Coast long period close out barrell, he shotted smoke from his iWatch13 and vanished leaving behind only a lone pubic hair to prove he was there.
Meanwhile, Zach619 was barreling through Richmond Virginia heading Northbound on the 95, honking at any driver with plates north of the mason dixon line. Suddenly, zach swerved off the road and took an exit. The scantily clad wahine riding shot gun asked, "Zach, why did you take the exit for Washington D.C.? We are going to Jersey"... "Get in the back seat ****" he exclaimed. "We are going to pick up my best friend, who lives in DuPont Circle". The sexy wahine in her stars and bars g-string mounted the console and slid her way to the back seat, leaving a wet trail on the plastic, much like a slugs trail. Zach gave her a nice slap n the as$ and yelled out a hoot. He then stepped on the gas and tossed his empty PBR can out the window. One of the ladies in the back seat says "Zach, look, there is an American multinational retail corporation over there, quick, pull over so we can get some more PBR and stock up on anything else we need". "In due time ladies" Zach replied. "We have to pick up our friend before we stop at the multinational retail conglomerate, trust me. He will be upset if we don't let him shop with us." Moments later, the truck screeched to a halt at 20th and O (NW). Zach laid on the horn for about 10 seconds. Two homosexuals stared at the truck, then scampered away when Zach flicked a cigarette butt at them. The ladies asked, "Why are we in this part of town"... "Don't worry ladies, we will only be here for a moment. Our friend should be down any minute." The crew waited, smoke billowing out of the vertical exhaust pipe. Everyone that walked past stared at the truck and it's passengers. Zach wasn't sure if they were surprised at the confederate flag waving in the cool breeze above the truck, or if they were trying to read the "Save Money. Live Better" Banner that was flapping in the wind on the other side of the truck. Knowing that in a couple short hours, he would be approaching the wrong side of the mason dixon line, Zach sat there calmly, re-assuring his lady friends, that although in a few short hours they would be entering "Enemy Territory", everything was going to be just fine. "I just talked to Blaster, he is right behind us on the 95 in the General Lee. We will enter the north with guns blazing"... And they sat in the truck and waited.....
"You look familiar son," officer Doug quipped. As he wiped the orange Vitamin Water drops from his mouth, he was slowly pulling his gun from its holster. "Yeah, I think I've seen your face. You're the man wanted for f*cking the entire Volcom team in their ass*s, ain't you?" Zach paused. He knew the officer had the draw on him. He had no chance at a shootout. And no chance at help from his slut companion, who was finally sleeping in the back, no longer feeling the effects of her 36-hour Stacker II binge. "Maybe this is the end of the line," Zach thought. His mind wandered, searching for a way out. "Maybe the officer has a fat daughter I can marry, in exchange for freedom." "Maybe I could even suck him off. Gross! No!" His mind wandered back to the 9mm pistol on the other side of his door. "There has to be a way out."
while in the rest stop waiting to 'seal' his fate, Zach sees Bruce Willis, fresh in from Penns Grove and calls out 'Die hard, come and help me' Doug turns around to see his hero and instantly forgets about Zach and his slut cronies. As soon as Doug turned around, Zach sped off, stoked to not sacrifice his virtue while Doug and Bruce rapped about living in the garden state and being bald
Meanwhile Big $ T Nuts had met up with Wayne the Naughty Touch Man and took a ride in his white windowless van. While driving down the street who should they see, a bearded man in flannel lugging a latex dummy and thumbing a ride. They pulled over and asked him his name. He said they call me Chucky Boo Boo and I'm from Maine. I'm on a pilgramage to commune with the one true shaper called ROY. I need to get to the docks and catch a boat to NZ right away...
....and with that, the boo-booster promptly departed for Baltimore, with a stop to pick up some over-sized boots, the ones that he could fit lamb chops chunky back legs into while he commenced his, uh, chucka-boo-booing on that poor lil fleece; and then, having made his purchase of boots, and a red mouf tether ball, chucka-boo-boo hit the docks of Balmer whereupon he promptly .....
...was approached by a cool cat by the name of HoStevie. HoStevie was on the hustle, trying to get the word out about his awesome GoPro mouth mounts...unfortunately, he was unaware that boo boo didn't listen to any of his sales pitch, the only thing that made his head turn was the combination of the words mouth and mount...
