|Upper left-hand corner, totally incapable of paying attention to anything.|
Yo yo yow, everybody. I'm the Evster, and welcome to another edition of The Bachelor: AFTER the Women Tell All!
A crowd of around 50 or so dudes, all wearing football jerseys, pump their fists and make wolf calls. "Aahhwwwoooooo!!!" There are also three chicks in the audience who clap politely while looking around in horror. One guy pours vodka all over his body and sets himself on fire. Another dude is wearing an Edgerrin James University of Miami jersey. The Evster points to him and mouths, "nice jerz."
All right, quiet down, quiet down. Shut up. Just shut up. Well, as you all know, it's been a super lame seez of the Bach this year. Our Bach, who happens to be a born again virgj, had sex with zero women. He sent home the only legitimate black chick without ever even giving her a sniff, and he booted off Selma and her baboon butt right before heading down to Bikini Beach.
I know, I know. We'll get to sit down and hear from Sean in a little bit. But first, let's talk to the lady whose table-top titties stole everyone's heart ... Selma!
Selma walks out on stage in a low cut dress to uproarious applause. One guy's head literally explodes all over his dumb, fat face. The wolf calls are deafening. Selma takes a seat next to the Evster on his not so clean couch, and the Evster inches really, really, really close to her.
|Yo yo yow!|
EVSTER: My my my Selma, how you have grown.
SELMA: Thanks? Do I smell Brut?
EVSTER: Shhhhh, shut up. Just shut up. All right Selms, first of all, let's talk about last night. On what was most likely your last ever appearance on national television -- because let's face it, you're way too much of a prude to go on Bach Pad -- you wore a REALLY boring dress that covered up your yammers. What was that all about?
SELMA: Well Evster, I just felt like ...
EVSTER: You know what? No answer you give will be a good enough. Turns to crowd. Whaddya say we put her in the cage?!
CROWD: Put 'er in the cage! Put 'er in the cage! Put 'er in the cage!
Selma confusedly looks around while four giant black dudes wearing Cincinnati Bengals jerseys (possibly the actual Cincinnati Bengals' defensive line) come out and throw her into a cage. The cage is then hoisted above the audience as the crowd pelts her with meatballs. The three females in the audience grab their things and walk out, and are pelted with even bigger, saucier, meatballs.
Next up on the show is a total snooze, but a woman who I had to have on to discuss one thing in particular -- and when I say one thing, I mean one thing. Let's hear it for the one-armed lady!
The one-armed lady comes out to the sound of one guy clapping. He looks around sheepishly and whispers, "I've never seen the show. I'm sorry. Never seen it." A meatball hits him in the throat.
EVSTER: So how'd you lose the arm?
ONE-ARMED LADY: I was born like this.
EVSTER: No seriously, how'd ya lose the arm?
ONE-ARMED LADY: No really, it's a birth defect. Ever since I was born, I've had to ...
EVSTER: OH MY GAWD YOU ARE SO BORING. Here you are, on national TV, and you have a perfect opportunity to make up something cool, like, "It got eaten by a frog," or "I lost it in a bet," or "I traded it for a David Robinson rookie card." Ughhhhhhh.
ONE-ARMED LADY: But that's not the truth, and honesty is really important to me. I just want people to love me for who I am, because I think I'm a nice, smart, interestin...
EVSTER: LET'S BRING OUT THE DON'T-CARE-O-METER!
CROWD: Don't care! Don't care! Don't care! Don't care!
A dude carries out a clock that has a piece of masking tape placed over the 12 with the words "DON'T-CARE-O-METER" written over it. The Evster takes the clock hands and slowly pushes them both straight up towards 12. When they reach 12, the clock bursts into flames and explodes all over the one-armed lady's dumb, fat face.
CROWD: Don't care! Don't care! Don't care! Don't care!
|Edgerrin's kid is trying so hard to flash that peace sign!|
EVSTER: Our next guest was gonna be Brooke, who was by far the best contestant this year, but I'm really not sure how long this schtick can go on. So let's bring out the born-again virgj himself, Sean!
Sean walks out on stage, unbuttons his sport coat and takes a seat on the couch -- a giant fart noise is played when he sits down.
EVAN: Hey Sean, check that, Born-Again Virgj.
SEAN: All right Evster, if there's one thing about me that I won't have challenged, it's my character. And you've been calling me a born-again virgj all year. And I just wanted to tell you, that if you keep calling me ...
EVSTER: Sorry, what? I'm not paying attention. There's a caged woman with giant breasts suspended above us. This is amazing. How are we able to keep her up there? Pulleys? Do we have a pulley system? Who set up a pulley system? Did the Bengals do that? What a country.
SEAN: Look, I just wanted to say that if you call me a born-again virgj one more time, we're gonna have a problem.
EVSTER: Oh, really? You don't think I'll call you a born-again virgj to your face?
EVSTER: Okay ................ born-again virgj.
Sean flips over the couch, jumps on the Evster and beats him to a bloody pulp.
Well, no idea how that one's gonna be received, but if you're hankering for more legit Bach talk, check out me and Zoo With Roy's Bachcap® here. Or if you wanna read some sports stuff, here's a link to all five of the jawns I've written for the 700 Lev. Orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, you could just look at something actually worth looking at, so here's a really nice penguin swimming.