My friend, Mr. Butt

Mr. Butt was a good friend of mine until he stole my last roll of toilet paper. I know, it sounds funny, but a guy named Mr. Butts did steal my last roll of toilet paper.
I normally would not care, but this toilet paper was special to me. This was special toilet paper. The kind of toilet paper that felt soft to the touch, but was strong to get the job done. Of course, this toilet paper was not used as the way conventional toilet paper would be used. I used it to make my paper mache statues.
Mr. Butt loved my toilet paper with a passion. He would stuff down it into the front of his pants for relief. He had the type of rash in the crotch area that popped up from time to time. It wasn't a very friendly rash because it would never go away. Kind of like those annoying bugs that fly around during the summertime and try to suck the blood from your body. I think they call them mosquitoes. Anyway, I felt sorry for him one day because he kept complaining that his crotch burned and it bothered him while he walked. Mr. Butts tried everything from baby powder to every spray and cream in the local drug store to help relieve the soreness. I offered him some of the toilet paper I import in from Taiwan. He loved it so much I had to start locking the cabinet I kept it in.
People who use toilet paper to make statues know how import the quality of the paper has to be. Needless to say, my next shipment of paper would not be in for a few weeks and I needed some for the final touches on my masterpiece to present in the art show. I called it "Testicles Blowing in the Wind".
Regular toilet paper won't cut it. I needed to sneak into Mr. Butt's apartment to retrieve my stolen property.
Mr. Butt was at work when I decided to shimmy down the gutter to get into his apartment. Luckily, he only lived 4 floors down. I can't remember what type of work he did, but I think it had something to do with chickens. Anyway, I was next to his window and was able to climb inside. On the coffee table was my toilet paper. Once I see him, I'm going to choke him like he does the chickens he works with. He used half my roll!
As I picked up the roll, there was knock on the door. I stood motionless with my Taiwanese toilet tissue in hand.
"Hey Butt, let us in! We want our recipes back!" yelled some deep-throated voice from behind the door.
When the knob started turning and the lock was clinking, I was too far from the window to get out. So I did the only thing I could do, I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in. I could hear the door open, when several foot steps echoed into the apartment.
"Where's that Butt at? Boys, search the kitchen. I bets my apple pie recipes be in there!" said the same voice.
I almost puked when I heard the bathroom doorknob turn.
"I think the Butt is in the bathroom, boys!"
There was some giggling as whatever number of boys starting knocking on the door.
"Hey Boss, I found the recipes!" yelled another voice from I guess was the kitchen.
Before the intruders got into the bathroom, I was able to climb out of the window and shimmy up the gutter to my apartment. Why in the hell did Mr Butt have apple pie recipes for?
Anyway, I was able to use the last of the toilet paper on my masterpiece. It was magnificent. I was truly proud of the tender touch I had. People would worship my statue as I filled my pockets with their donation money.
A few hours went by and I decided to pay Mr. Butt
a visit. Choosing to the stairs route was ideal because shimmying down gutters is not really my thing. Unless, of course, it has to do with my toilet paper being stolen.
I knocked on my ex-friends door and heard him approach the entrance.
"Who is it!?!"screamed Mr. Butt.
"It's me, Sparky!" I replied. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to come in.
"You got any more toilet paper, man? My balls are redder than 2 radishes being smoked on an open flame!"
"Hell no! You stole my last roll and I had to come looking for it. How'd you get in my apartment anyway?"
"I had the cleaning lady give me a key to your apartment. My balls were on fire and I needed relief like you wouldn't believe!"
"Okay, but you didn't have to break the lock on my cabinet. All you had to do was ask. Anyway, some group of guys came in here looking for apple pie recipes while I was here."
"That be the Apple Pie gang! They wanted my momma's internationally famous recipes! You didn't give it to them, did you?"
"No way, I climbed out the window of the bathroom. They sounded angry, but they did get the recipes from what I heard."
Mr. Butt sat down with slumped shoulders and started pouting. "My momma is going to kill me, but my balls are fire! I need something, do you have any ice?"
I couldn't be mad at him now. I retrieved some ice from my apartment in a plastic bag. After he situated himself without display his goods, I told him, "Well, I wouldn't worry about your momma. You need to see a doctor about that rash."
Mr. Butt lifted his head," I don't have health insurance, man."
Needless to say, I offered to help him after the art show. Hopefully, I would make enough money from the show to help him out.
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The day of the art show.......
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I had all my great statues on display; "Turtles in Terds", "Love Letters from the Port-a-Pottie", and "Testicles Blowing in the Wind".
The cash will come. I knew it.
As a group of 3 men following an old man with a cane approached my statue "Turtles in Terds", I recognized the deep-throated voice of the old man.
"Boys, take a look at this thing! It's real nice. Just about as nice my apple pie! It would look good on my mantle with my baking awards. Hey sir, how much for the "Turtle in Terds" statue?"
Why it was the man who stole Mr. Butt's momma's recipes. "I'll take $50 for it." I blurted out.
"Only $50. That's a steal. Ever considered making a statue of a naked old man eating apple pie on a toilet?"
"Never thought about it. But it sounds like a good idea."
"Here's $50 and my business card. Boys, get the statue. These are my sons and they like apple pie too. Call me sometime and I'll be the model for your inspiration for the statue."
His business card read 'Larry T. Crust, Friend of Apple Pies'.
Now I had some money to help my friend, Mr. Butt, I also had another idea for a statue. Just hope that damn toilet paper comes in soon.