The Adventures of Bruno Butthead

                                                              The Adventures of Bruno Butthead



    Welcome to the first, last and only episode of the adventures of Bruno Butthead.  Remember Bruno?  He's the goonish, slope-headed, knuckle-dragging moron who in the not-too-distant past was escorted to the front office for being insubordinate, disorderly and possessing a high enough blood/alcohol content to qualify as a living-breathing Molotov Cocktail.  Bruno's guilt was never in question.  But, his boss wasn't satisfied with a simple, "YOU'RE FIRED!!!"  Oh, heavens, no!  The boss had a yen for grandstanding and severely scolded Bruno in front of a gaggle of gawking, snickering white collar types - then fired him.



    Unfortunately, terminating Bruno in such a demeaning manner, while justifiable, turned out to be less than a brilliant move on the part of management.  Reprimanding a monstrous thug like Bruno in such a "show trial" fashion was akin to sodomizing an 800-pound gorilla out of a deep sleep with a stun baton.  In a flash of temper, Bruno predictably took it upon himself to "tear down the ofice" and everyone in it, starting with the closest person available who happened to be the Evil Pencil-necked Human Resources Director.  And you - you schmuck! - you were there solely for a job interview, NOT to get involved by drawing your handy-dandy C2 Taser - z-z-zapping Bruno - and thereby rescuing the Evil Pencil-necked Human Resources Director, the boss and quite possibly those few employees whose jobs actually mattered.



    Time has passed and a lot of water has flushed through the septic tank since that little incident.  And noooo!  Being a good citizen didn't land you the job.  Well, what did you expect?  The company can't hire some "crazed vigilante" who shows up at job interviews toting a derringer version of "Ol' Sparky".  And now that you've been sufficiently stereotyped and grossly unappreciated, what do you say we shift gears, look in on Bruno and discover what the ignoramus has been up to?



    Oh, my!  Just look at that court docket!  What a surprise to find a plethora of full-blown felony charges stacked up against him over the last three years!  Amazingly, all have been plea-bargained down to a single serious misdemeanor.  And, the icing on the cake is actual time served behind bars - none.  Why?  because, the judge is a flaming liberal who believes a host of entitlements come with being a "victim".  Of course, we're not talking about Bruno's many, many criminal assault victims, but rather about Bruno himself.  As the judge put it, "We must understand his rage.  We're all to blame for Bruno's condition!"



    Does that sound outrageous?  It sure as hell does, but gee willikers, you middle class types just don't understand - life hasn't been fair to Bruno.  See, his mommy, Estelle, was an "undocumented worker" of unknown origin.  She was also a hooker whose services were were made available to just about everyone, regardless of ethnicity, station in life or species.  To the politically correct, this made Estelle a citizen of the world, naturally oppressed by our oh-so racist society spawned in bigotry back in the late 1700's by those ol' dead white guys (the nerve!).  Bruno's biological daddy, Igor, a known drunkard, sadistic Russian mafia enforcer and possibly the only living Klingon on planet Earth, was an avid equal opportunity kind of guy - and very inclusive.  He hated everybody!  But, what he loved most was to beat the snot out of Bruno's mommy (Klingon mating ritual), though she was rarely lucid enough to testify against him.



    Ah, this regrettable sad chapter of domestic violence took its toll on little Bruno and came to a boil during mommy's two-year gig turning tricks at the United Nations.  She had failed to use the Pill on a timely schedule, and despite Planned Parenthood's "Bushel Basket of Estrogen" special - was knocked up almost immediately.  Igor was not exactly the compassionate, understanding type when it came to raising other men's little bastards.  Sensing a violent outcome, the very pregnant Estelle grabbed Bruno by the hand and hopped a bus to parts unknown.  A few months later, she gave birth to non-identical twins, Bosco and Bonzo.  Eventually Igor tracked them down, but to his credit refrained from any homicidal reprisals as long as the "trick" money and vodka held out.



    It was no surprise Igor's animosity rubbed off on Bruno, who like his father, resented his half-brothers.  But, gee whiz, they were the only siblings Bruno would ever have - or at least know about.  And, just like Bruno, they too fell short of being winners in what liberal drama queens refer to as "life's lottery".



    That was then, but this is now, so what about today?  There's an old saying - "like father, like son" - and this holiday season, the now fully grown, 320-pound, 6'5" Bruno carried on the Butthead tradition by repeatedly bludgeoning Margo, his 5'3", 105-pound common law, crack-addicted wife.  This atrocious criminal behavior was mercifully brought to a halt after the police had received noise complaints from the crack house across the street.  Fortunately for Margo, she was able to lock herself behind the bathroom door and make a heart-wrenching 9-1-1 call of her own.  This was only a brief time out, however.  Sponging up alcohol had given Bruno a serious case of the munchies.  Stumbling and cursing, frantically searching everywhere, the wife-beating brute, wearing his favorite "wife-beater" under shirt, couldn't find the cell phone with the Pizza carryout number on the speed dial.  When he heard Margo blubbering away, he kicked open the bathroom door, grabbed the phone out of her hands, slapped her around for good measure and ordered a large, deep dish pepperoni and sausage pizza.



    Being all too familiar with the address, the police dutifully arrived Johnny-on-the-spot.  Uhhhhhh, well, okay - actual time of arrival was thirty minutes AFTER receiving Margo's call.  And, not to put too fine a point on it, Bruno's pizza managed to arrive ten minutes earlier.



    Bruno had just eaten half-way through his pizza, when - KABOOM - the hinges blew off the front door!  Somewhat surprised by the ruckus and subsequent influx of law enforcement personnel storming across the threshold, Bruno greeted the emergency response team in the traditional Butthead patriarchal fashion - a near-empty bottle of vodka in one hand and his wife's twisted arm in the other.  Feigning innocence, Bruno assured the police nothing was wrong.  Margo was merely "accident prone" - yeah, that's it - that's the ticket!  It certainly wasn't his fault she was clumsy and stupid.  In fact, Bruno made sure the police knew Margo was SO clumsy and SO stupid, falling down the basement steps was an everyday occurence for her.  But, this particular evening, Margo had been ESPECIALLY clumsy and ESPECIALLY stupid - so much so, she failed to negotiate that tricky top step and tumbled all the way to the bottom - at least twenty times.



    Risking another brilliant professional assessment from the White House accusing cops of acting stupidly, the police voiced their skepticism.  In fact, they flat out refused to buy into this load of crap!



    Bruno took issue with the officers' invasive, rascist attitudes and told the police, "What I do in my home is none of your friggin' business, so (bleep) off, pigs!"



    It was then the constables courteously advised Bruno he was under arrest.  Bruno wasn't up to being quite as courteous and resorted to throwing the vodka bottle, chairs, tables, lamps and a rather large statue of a naked lady toward the arresting officers.  The boys in blue jump suits and tactical gear fire-hosed him with OC spray, stir-fried his neural system with simultaneous hits from two X26 Tasers, pummeled him vigorously with three ASP extendable batons and finally handcuffed him - after several attempts.



    "Oh, silly me!" exclaimed Officer Jones, who in the excitement failed to apply the cuffs properly, smacking Bruno's wrists over and over before discovering the rotating halves of the stainless steel restraints were facing the wrong way.  How unfortunate, because, gee, as far as the arresting officers were concerned, Bruno's comfort and personal safety was the #1 priority.



    Eventually, they were able to shackle Bruno's swollen, black and blue wrists and managed to drag him away kicking and screaming.  Bruno continued to throw his furious conniption fit while being stuffed in the back seat of the police cruiser.  However, it must be mentioned that in spite of his obscene remarks toward the police officers and numerous pornographic references aimed directly at their mothers, wives and daughters, there were no hard feelings.  Proper restraint was exercised.  In fact, witnesses heard Bruno cautioned in a loud, clear voice to "watch his head".  The senior arresting officer, a 6'7", 350-pound ex-Marine body builder was so concerned about Bruno's welfare, he maintained a secure grip on Butthead's hair to guide him safely into the patrol car's interior.  Yet, inexplicably, and somewhat ironically, it was Bruno who had suddenly developed a severe case of being "clumsy and stupid" - you might say ESPECIALLY clumsy and ESPECIALLY stupid!  Time and again, the sickening thump of Bruno's forehead against the Impala's cold steel just above the opened door gave the crowd of onlookers something to cheer about.



  "Duh, how come youz guys guys are always pickin' on me?!" the battered Bruno whined like an 8th grader during his arraignment, while his snotty little rodent-like ACLU lawyer sneered contemptuously with a quivering upper lip.



    "How come?" - Bruno asks?  Well, let's see.  Oh, yes!  It's a little thing called EVIDENCE!!!  Exhibit A was especially damning, consisting of Margo's broken ribs, limbs, grotesquely dislocated jaw hanging cockeyed like a loose license plate, split lip, black eyes swelled shut - and let's not forget the trail of shattered, teeth scattered across the bloody carpet like Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs.  And there's also Exhibit B - Bruno's bowel-chilling death threats and Margo's muffled fearful sobs recorded during the desperate 9-1-1 call.  Neither of these were especially helpful to Bruno's case.



    Luckily for Bruno, presiding was Hizzoner B. Leedin Hart, the jester of jurisprudence.  It was no surprise the flaming liberal judge saw fit to allow the defendant's half-brothers, Bosco and Bonzo, to post his bail.  After all, considering Bruno's history of social disenfranchisement, it would be unfair to treat him as anything but an upstanding citizen.  And, so once again, touchy-feely fairness trumped common senese and concern for the public safety.  Bruno was released.



    Finding himself back on the cold, wet, snowy streets, the eldest Butthead brother vowed to show society what happens when a progressive kind of guy like him hasn't been given the love every child ought to get.  For that, someone was going to pay dearly.  Somebody (other than Bruno) had to take the blame for his long-long criminal history of aggravated assaults, larceny and drug charges.  And who would that somebody be?  Perhaps somebody who had been a BIG winner in life's lottery - drove too nice a car - somebody with too ritzy a house!  Or maybe none of that really mattered, since everyone trying to earn an honest living was rich compared to Bruno.



    Homeless, hungry and loitering at the local ACORN office, Bruno swallowed his core principles and stooped to manual labor, passing out propaganda leaflets featuring essays on the evils of capitalism, conservatism, Christianity and the Constitution - in short all the traditional and family values.  Of course, Butthead didn't give a tinker's damn about any of those things.  He needed money.  Wearing his brand new pumpkin-colored ACORN tee shirt with the likeness of Che Guevara printed on the front, Bruno wadded up a few freshly printed stimulus tax dollars into his pocket.  Ever mindful to exercise fiscal responsibility, our mystery primate shuffled off to a 7-11, bought a case of cheap beer and eventually found himself drunk, sitting on a dumpster in the alley behind a triple-X theater. 



    Taking this rare opportunity to reflect, a more thoughtful, inebriated Bruno remembered what the ACORN community organizers said about economic equality through "redistributive rights", a larcenous governmental policy often referred to as "sharing the wealth".  Feeling empowered by all that communist manifesto crap, Bruno was easily indoctrinated.  Like most liberals, he became hate-filled, seething over identity politics and class envy.



    Halfway through his case of beer, Bruno noticed a rather nasty two-foot long metal pipe laying nearby.  Hiding the field-expedient plumber's truncheon between his black leather biker jacket and ACORN Che Guevara tee shirt, Bruno went on the hunt, coming across a little old man in a parking lot who was oblivious to his surroundings - a condition commonly referred to as Condition White.  As the elderly citizen entered his low-slung, government approved, hybrid clown car, Bruno made his move, rushing the gray-haired 80-something man whose back was turned (a non-negotiable rule of engagement for Bruno, with the exception of confronting school girls under 12!).  With the pipe held high to crush his victim's skull, Bruno leaped squarely into the sharp corner of the swinging car door, taking a nasty gouge to the groin.  As the vehicle sped away, Bruno bellowed like an ox, dropped the pipe, fell to his knees, gripped his injured anatomy - and vomited a tsunami of Milwaukee's cheapest.



    Well, that didn't work out like he'd planned.  Now, Bruno was really torqued!  Guzzling a few more beers while waiting for his crotch to stop throbbing, Buttplug concluded he needed his half-brothers to help him realize his fifteen minutes of infamy that most certainly would be the lead story on tomorrow's news.  Brother Bosco, a closet terrorist, was easy to find.  He drove a taxi.  And, there was Bonzo, who as always, was hanging out with the local street gang pushing drugs to school kids, frightening citizens and evading the cops.  Gathering the scurvy non-identical twins together on the steps of a condemend public housing complex, Bruno convinced Bosco and Bonzo to help him fulfill his dream - to make somebody, anybody, SHARE THE WEALTH this Christmas Eve!  Yes, the rage inside him was building.  Soon, he was foaming at the mouth like a mad dog, ranting, "Share the wealth!  Share the wealth!"



    "So, who you gonna waste first?" asked Bosco, getting right to the heart of the matter, though truly impressed with Bruno's newly found use of political rhetoric.



    "Yeah, who?" inquired Bonzo, a rather large brass nose ring frosting up as the night turned colder.



    "Duh, how about Margo?  She's always good for a few punches."



    "Your ol' lady?  She's still in the ICU ward under armed guard," said Bosco.



    Bruno grunted, belched and let loose with a loud, long excruciatingly obnoxious, flatulent passage of gas!



    "Man, oh man!  Did you just mess yo' pants?!" complained Bonzo who in spite of years sniffing cocaine, still possessed working olfactory glands.



    "Duh, yeah, I did!" Bruno laughed moronically.  The filthy orgre simply stood there in the cold, grunting and straining.



    "Well, ain'tchya gonna clean yourself up?!" scolded Bosco.



    "Hell no!"



    "Why not?" whined Bonzo.



    "Cuz, I aint done yet!" lashed Bruno, continuing with another gastro-intestinal eruption - followed by a raspy cough, and well-timed hoching of a humongous loogie.  Placing a finger against one nostril, he blew his sinus cavity clear, sending a revolting glob of shimmering green mucous a few feet away while the remainder hung from his beard and moustache.  Satisfied with this nauseating display of bodily functions, Bruno crushed a beer can against his forehead and grinned foolishly.  However, as reality set in (and the cold), he soon realized what he'd done to himself.  Scowling, the eldest Butthead brother began pulling at the seat of his jeans.  Then, looking skyward with a circular red mark in his forehead from the beer can, he screamed, "Man, I don't believe I just crapped in my pants!  Ohhh, man!  Now I really want to (bleep) somebody up!  I want justice!  Yeah, that's it!  Justice!  No justice, no peace!"



    "Hey, man, you can't use that line," protested Bonzo.  "That's only for us people of color.  And you ain't color.  You're, uhhh, you're - just what the hell are you?!"



    "Gray," surmised Bosco, "like an alien."



    "Shut up, Bonzo!"  Bruno smashed Bonzo in the face, sending him down the steps to the sidewalk.  Immediately, he turned and kicked Bosco in the groin, dropping him to his knees and onto his side.



    "Why did you hit me?!" demanded Bonzo, holding his bloody nose.



    "Yeah, (bleep)-for-brains!" joined Bosco, his voice noticeably a bit higher as he rocked side to side, holding his injured genitalia.  "What did we do?"



    "NNNNNNNYYYAAAAAGH!!!" screamed Bruno, burning with mindless fury.  He bent over and actually lifted both brothers by the necks and slammed them against a boarded window.  "Mom always liked you best!"



    "So?  We're even," croaked Bonzo, barely able to breathe.  "You're dad really hated us."



    "Yeah, he wouldn't even take us to the zoo," whined Bosco, pinned against the plywood.



    "That's not true," squeaked Bonzo, straining in Bruno's grip to turn toward Bosco.  "There was that one time when he threw us into the polar bear cage."



    "Aww, man, I blocked that out!" gasped Bosco.  "Why did you make me remember that?!"



    "SHUT UP!!!  BOTH OF YOU!!!" roared Bruno, as he continued to choke and slam them against the building.  "I'm the one here with the friggin' problem!  ACORN said I was a victim.  They said I needed-uh, duh, social-uhhhh...?"



    "Justice?" reminded Bonzo, almost asphyxiated from Bruno's vice-like strangle hold and incredible stench.



    "Justice!  Duh, yeah!  That's it!"  Bruno released the pair of simpletons and dropped them to the ground.  "Well, I'm done bein' a friggin' victim!  And, I'm goin' out and gettin' me some social justice!  And you two are gonna help.  Before this night is over, I wanna see brains and blood - and I don't care whose!"



    As much effort as the trio put into selecting an outlet for Bruno's politically correct righteous rage, not a single candidate came into their heads.  Then, Bosco, likely the lone member of the Butthead brothers capable of abstract thought, cried, "I know!  How about that worthless Boy Scout who tasered you?  Ever since then, you haven't found a job.  He ruined your life!  That infidel-errrr, I mean, jerk has been asking for it!"



    "Duh, hey, yeah!  I remember him!" exclaimed Bruno.  "That's a good idea.  Tonight is payback time!"



  To be continued...