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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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June / July 2006 Contest Results |
Lawton
Raynell Schnardlicker, You Are The Man!
By
Kenny Blade, Alabama
“Lawton Raynell
Shnardlicker, if you were any hotter, the janitor would find a pile of
ashes where you currently stand!”
Never one to lack confidence, Lawton squeezed a dab of Crest onto his
index finger and rubbed his remaining front tooth, then licked his
finger and wet the patch of hair in the center of his forehead that
connected his eyebrows. Glancing at himself in the mirror once more
brought a huge smile to his face.
“Hey you!
Yeah you... the fine specimen of manhood in the mirror! I am talking to
you! If I weren’t straight, I’d ask you out on a date!” Lawton drew
imaginary pistols from their holsters and whispered with a wink, “Lawton
my friend, you’re gonna be more popular tonight than a six-pack in a
twelve step meeting!”
Lawton gracefully swept the toilet plunger up in his arms and danced
across the men’s room floor at the Chevron. He had been bathing in the
sink there since his toupee fell into his own toilet during a furious
sneezing fit caused by his new cologne. He blamed it on the pollen. The
blistering rash on his face and neck and the seventy nine cents a gallon
price tag should have told him that the cologne was the culprit.
A truck driver with an overactive bladder burst into the restroom
interrupting Lawton’s painfully loud rendition of Wild Cherry’s “Play
That Funky Music (White Boy)”. Terrified by the encounter, the truck
driver scurried back out the door choosing to wait until the next exit
to seek relief. Lawton shrugged his shoulders and swept up his favorite
mauve plaid jacket from the wall mount urinal where it hung. “Try and
find this grade of polyester in good men’s clothing store. Just ain’t to
be had anymore.” he muttered to himself. The jacket material matched his
orange seersucker pants in thickness only. A small tear in the rear of
his trousers was deftly camouflaged by the faded red boxers he wore
underneath.
Lawton stopped just outside the restroom door oblivious to the station
owner who leaned out of his office shouting expletives at him. He could
hear nothing over the Bee Gees soundtrack that played in his head. He
smiled and looked heavenward pausing only briefly to duck the crescent
wrench that had been thrown at his head by the angry owner.
After a few moments of soaking in the warmth of the sun, he snapped his
fingers and gave a thumbs up sign. “If it weren’t for me, brother
sunshine, you’d be the sizzlin'est thing out here today!”
Pulling a worn felt beret from his jacket pocket and perching it atop
his head, Lawton clicked the heels of his high top Converse together and
entered the flow of human traffic that scampered its way toward the
downtown district. “It’s a beautiful day!” he said to no one in
particular as he passed the Laundromat. Lawton always picked up his pace
at this point in the journey in order to induce perspiration.
Like any
other man-gift that roamed the city, he had no use for static cling. He
usually sprayed his chest and back with PAM to reduce the effects, but
it had recently caused all of his body hair to fall out and the
margarine scent was strangely off-putting to some. Sweat seemed to
eliminate the static and it was also handy to swab his arm pits with his
palms and use the glandular excretions to keep his hair is place. The
wet look was all the rage, and he was after all, a cutting edge fashion
hound.
Lawton slowed his pace as he reached his destination. Leaning into the
phone booth in front of the establishment, he checked his appearance
once more in the chrome trim surrounding the advertisement placard above
the phone.
He straightened his beret and read the sign overhead aloud: N.A. Meeting
-- Tonight 6:00 pm. “Right on time!” He exclaimed. Cutting in front of an
elderly man who had approached the doorway while Lawton slicked his hair
once more, he took his place in the front row chairs. The meeting came
to order and Lawton leapt to his feet assuming he should be the first to
speak.
“Hello. My name is Lawton Raynell Schnardlicker and I am a narcissist…”
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