Team Work

Big Jeb should be sponsored by Summer's Eve that douchebag.
Groff, Earl, and I were at a house-party, looking to get laid, when he approached us.

"You guys really came prepared this time. It shows."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Those clothes. They're sharp!"

Speaking for the group I thanked him.

"No problem" he said pointing at me, "I once had a shirt like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. . . then my dad got a job!"

Big Jeb smacked the beers out our hands, let out a triumphant "HOOO-YEAH!" and head-butted the wall.

Let's bring you up to speed real quick; my old man passed away in a tragic microwave explosion, Groff's pops is on disability with a curved spine after too many years behind the wheel of a bus, and Earl's the product of two broads with buzz cuts. See why we might find that statement offensive?

The three of us went to the fridge for fresh brewskies, bitching about Big Jeb and his lameness.

"We gotta get that sonofabitch back" Earl grumbled.

"Skeedly-dee doo dat dat dat!" Groff yelled, pulling his hair.

"I know. I know." I replied, "We'll think of something."

And we sure as hell did.

It took an hour or two but we came up with an ingenious plan. Sure, we were hammered at that point but that doesn't matter. Everyone knows the best ideas come under the influence.
Here's what happened:

Big Jeb was in the kitchen yelling "American Eagle rules!" when I walked up and called him a moron. Crushing a beer can on his forehead he shook his face back and forth.

"What you just say?"

"I called you" I said, taking my glasses off for dramatic effect, "a fucking moron" and gave his beer belly a shove.

Call it divine intervention if you want. Call it coincidence.

The original plan was for me to push Big Jeb while Groff crouched behind him on all fours.
What happened instead was better than any one could've imagined.

See we were in the kitchen when it all went down and, oblivious to us, the basement door was open. Hammered, remember? Anyways it worked out so that when I pushed Big Jeb he fell where the door should have been, down the stairs, tumbling onto the concrete floor below. All these dames were downstairs playing beer pong. They responded by cheering, calling Big Jeb a pussy, laughing, and throwing beer bottles at his face.

Looking back on it, I'm not sure if the blood was from the fall or the broken glass. Either or I still say we pulled off a great exercise in teamwork. As for Earl, he was taking a shit during the excitement.

Give the dude a break. He's human.

So yeah, considering he's in a coma, Big Jeb shouldn't be a problem for quite some time.

That douchebag.