RODEO

August 10, 2018 [WILDLY KRAZY]—It was two hours after getting out of school on a Thursday, and we had already been drinking orange juice and vodka since 9am…

I will let you figure that one out…

Brandon, of course, as usual, was our designated driver, so we decided to go play miniature golf, while we continued to slam vodka and orange juice. In fact, in the truck, we had a cooler filled with ice, three bottles of vodka, and two, large containers of orange juice.

Half drunk and staggering, we attempted to play… Constantly hitting the ball 50-feet from the hole, we all play golf like Happy Gilmore, sober…before Happy became good…so, of course, we kept hitting balls like we were playing hockey. Not only that, but we were also too damn drunk to even see the holes.

Right in front of us, there was a young mother with two little boys, which I assume were her sons. No older than 3 or 4-years-old, the youngest kept looking at us, until on the fourth hole, he told his mother, "those boys aren't good at golf, mommy."

As we continued to bank golf balls off surrounding obstacles and decorations, while never hitting the holes, the little boy continued to watch us.

As Thomas walked up to hit on our seventh hole, the little boy walks up to the hole, pulls down his pants and underwear, revealing his dick and ass to the entire mini golf park.

Like a champ, while everyone stood around laughing and watching, the little asshole pissed into our hole.

Turning around to see her son pissing in the hole, the mother grabbed the boy by the arm, and left, without saying a word to us.

"That little fucker pissed in our hole," Levi said.

"Skip it," KRAZED said, as he slammed and finished off his orange juice and vodka.

At this point in the autumn day, it was about 6:30pm, so the sun was damn near below the horizon, engendering a chilly, October night.

Skipping the hole, we moved up to our ninth hole… Swinging like a drunk-retard, KRAZED hit the ball, and somehow, the ball hit one of the concrete barrier walls, ricocheting off the wall, and zooming past a college girl as she was about to swing.

Of course, I assumed she was in college, because she was wearing a black and gold Missouri Western University tee shirt.

Coming within inches of smacking the girl in the head, the golf ball zoomed right in front of her face, causing her to scream, and miss her ball as she swung.

"What the fuck?" her boyfriend said out loud—loud enough that we could hear him six holes in front of us.

Based on his build, the boyfriend was either a weight lifter, wrestler, or football player, because this guy had a chest and arms of a gorilla.

Pissed off, the boyfriend looks over at KRAZED with a glare. Drunk, and never giving a fuck, KRAZED waves at the boyfriend with an arrogant smile.

Even more pissed off, the boyfriend flips KRAZED off.

"Hold on…hold on…I'm going again…" KRAZED told Matt, as Matt was about to swing, beings it was his turn.

"What're you doing?" Matt asked KRAZED.

"That fucker flipped me off," KRAZED said.

"Fuck him," Brandon said.

"Ya fuck him!" KRAZED shouted, as he swung the golf club like a mad-man.

All night, KRAZED did not hit a single hole, but on this swing, KRAZED sent the ball flying through the air, finally striking its target. With a thud and a loud smack, the golf ball hit the college guy in the ribs, causing him to fall to his knees.

Jumping up, the college guy started running across the mini golf course at KRAZED while everyone stood around and watched. Within 20-yards, KRAZED started launching our golf balls at him, as the college guy stopped running, trying to shield his body and head with his arms.

"Fuck you, you oversized douche!" KRAZED shouted, as he threw his golf club over the guys head, damn near hitting him.

After seeing the commotion, security started running over at us.

Turning around, all six of us jumped the 4-foot, brick wall that stood behind us. Running along the brick wall, KRAZED flipped off the college guy the entire time, as he just glared at us.

Jumping into Brandon's truck, KRAZED sat passenger, and the rest of us sat in the back, in the truck bed.

Opening the back window, KRAZED shouts at us, "Mexican Fiesta!"

"Fuck ya!" we all shouted, drunk off our asses, agreeing to play.

"KRAZED goes first!" Levi said, informing KRAZED.

"Quit being a pussy; I'll be the first out," KRAZED said.

Mexican Fiesta is a road game where you strip down to your boxers, and run around the vehicle at a red light. Before the light turns green, you have to run around the vehicle three times, and then jump back into the vehicle. If you fail to make it around the vehicle three times, you lose...

After stripping down to our boxers, we pulled up to a yellow light. As the fourth car from the intersection of the belt-highway, we waited for the light to turn red. As an extremely busy, major four lane road, running in front of countless restaurants, fast food, and big branded, business chains, there were hundreds of cars passing all around us.

After the light turned red, we all jumped out of the truck, and started running around the truck in just boxers, screaming "Mexican Fiesta!"

Running like drunken idiots, everyone just watched us, while others honked and cheered us on.

We did this until we got to our ninth or tenth light on the belt high way.

Driving down to our last light, a car followed directly behind us. At around the ages of 55 or 60, an older man drove, while his wife sat passenger. All the while, a Christian cross dangled from the car's rear-view mirror.

Examining my surroundings even more, while I sat in the back of the truck, I spotted a car that was about four cars behind us, filled with either high school or college girls.

On our last red light, we jumped out and started running, again. While we ran like retards, shouting "Mexican Fiesta," the old man leaned out his window and shouted, "Más rápido!"

With a fearful and shocked look on her face, the old wife kept tapping the old man on his shoulder, like "don't rile them up, or encourage them…"

Meanwhile, the four young girls in the car behind us leaned out the car and shouted at us, encouraging us even more. At that light, we made it around the vehicle seven times, before the light turned green.

"Vodka and orange juice almost came up on that one," I warned everyone in the truck, after we all jumped back into the truck.

"You better not fucking puke!" Levi warned me.

Flying up next to us, on our left, the girls started yelling at us, while dancing in the car, as we sped down the belt-highway, doing at-least 50mph.

Leaning over Brandon from the passenger seat, KRAZED screams out the window, "show us your boobs!"

"What?!" the girl in the passenger side screamed and asked, with a smile.

"Show us your tits!" KRAZED screamed, as he motioned with his hands, as if he was lifting up his shirt.

Looking back at her friends, while talking and laughing, the passenger and the two girls in the back flashed their perfect, young tits.

"Holy fuck!" Levi shouted, as all four of us rushed to the left side of the truck bed, fighting for a spot to view the road porn mere feet away.

Seconds later, the passenger lifted up the driver's skirt, revealing a bald pussy that avoided panties, while both the driver and passenger laughed.

At the age of 17, with raging teenage hormones, my dick was happier than a nymphomaniac at a dildo factory.

Sitting a few feet above the car, we could see everything in close-up-detail from the truck. Seconds later, the passenger and the chick in the back, sitting on the right, closest to us, pulled down their jean shorts, spreading their legs, showing us their bald pussies, as their feet plastered against the car window.

"Bend over!" KRAZED shouted from the driver window, as Brandon drove.

Bending over, the two girls plastered their pussy and asses against the car windows, as they spread their ass cheeks with their hands. Leaning over their asses, their third friend stuck out her tongue, pretending to lick their pussies.

"Oh my god! Do you see that?! Do you see that?!" Thomas screamed and asked in excitement!

As a typical horny teenage boy excited over pussy, my dick was harder than a Viagra overdose.

"Rodeo! Your turn!" the passenger girl shouted, as she leaned out the window, while we were sitting at a red light, talking back and forth with them.

"Rodeo!" we all shouted, in agreement.

Rodeo is a road game where a group of people stands in the back of the moving truck, dancing. Most of the time, on the country roads, everyone strips down and does it; however, we were in the middle of the city, with hundreds of cars behind us, bumper to bumper.

Excited, horny, and drunk, while we were at a red light intersection, Levi and Matt stand up, stripping their boxers, and starts shaking their dicks, dancing. Seconds later, while those two retards danced naked, Brandon blares "Petey Pablo—Freek-A-Leek."

Meanwhile, all four girls cheered in their car, while everyone around us either stared, cheered us on, or shouted at us to get dressed.

"Get some fucking clothes on, morons!" an old man shouted at us.

"Fuck you, old fuck!" Thomas shouted back.

Before the song was over, the light turned green, and we raced through the light, while the two dumb fucks continued to dance, drunk off their asses.

Not even seconds later, a cop car flies right passed us as our naked morons stood in the back of the truck, flopping their dicks up and down. Looking back, I saw the cop turn on his lights, trying to do a U-turn into our congested lane.

"Cops!" I shouted into the truck at Brandon and KRAZED. Immediately, Brandon takes off, zigzagging through the two lanes of traffic.

"Get dressed! Get dressed!" KRAZED screamed at us, as Brandon sped down the belt, slamming us back and forth against the truck bed, while our drunk asses tried to get dressed.

Looking back, I could not see the cop, and seconds later, Brandon takes a sharp right, turning down a side street.

Flying into a grocery store parking lot, Brandon parks the truck, without rolling up the windows, or locking the door, and we haul ass across the parking lot, running down the dark, empty streets.

By this point, after running at-least six blocks, I run over to the side of the street, puking up vodka and orange juice.

"Come on, motherfuck—up here!" KRAZED said, as he tried to pull me to a dark area beside a church.

As I ran for the side of the church, I continued to puke, puking all over my shoes and pants.

"Fucking lightweight," Matt said, laughing at me, as I continued to puke in the grass, within the shadows of the church and two large trees.

"Fuck…my truck; that asshole will find it, and trace it back to me," Brandon said, scared that the cop would find his parked truck.

"Fuck him; he can't prove shit, because he never caught us in the truck. Plus, he has to prove it was you, driving the truck that he saw," KRAZED informed Brandon.

"Let me see your phone," KRAZED said to Matt.

"What're you doing?" Matt asked.

"Getting us a ride back to the truck," KRAZED said, as he dialed one of our Asian, female Krazees.

"Hey, Asian—$50-dollars and a wiener if you pick us up and give us a ride to Brandon's truck," KRAZED said over the phone.

"A wiener is always good payment," KRAZED said over the phone, smiling.

"$100-dollars?! That's Asian extortion," KRAZED said over the phone.

"Then get dress, bum—it's not even 7 on a Thursday… Fuck school," KRAZED told our Asian Krazee.

"50-bucks and free drinks—all you can drink at the party tomorrow," KRAZED said, trying to make a deal.

"Right on—pick us up behind Central [High School]," KRAZED told our Asian Krazee.

Wanting to lose the cops by using time and distance, we decided to walk about ten more blocks to Central High School, a rival high school in the center of Saint Joseph. For better understanding, we lived on the edge of the city, in the "South Side," about a two hour walk from where we were, while Central High School was about a 45-minute walk from Brandon's truck.

Sitting on the ground behind Central, waiting on our Asian escort, we bullshitted, and laughed at our retarded selves.

"I'm going to go home, and relieve some pressure," Matt said, laughing.

"I'd drink their bath water, while they were on their period," Levi informed the group.

"You're a sick fuck," KRAZED said, laughing, as the Asian pulled into the school parking lot.

"There's my sexy Asian," KRAZED told Kimberly, as he opened her car door.

"Shut up and get in," Kimberly ordered KRAZED.

"Gladly," KRAZED said with a smile, as we all jumped into the car.

"One of you guys smell like sour ass," Kimberly said, looking into the back seat, as we crammed into her SUV.

"Dipshit puked all over himself," Thomas said.

"Who's the dipshit?" Kimberly asked.

"Fuckin' Mike—long story—I'll tell you later," KRAZED informed Kimberly.

"Where is your truck, Brandon?" Kimberly asked.

"The old Green Hills on Mitchell," Brandon informed Kimberly.

"Sports bra, and booty shorts…I like it," KRAZED said, looking at Kimberly as she drove.

"I was about to go to bed, asshole," Kimberly told KRAZED.

"At 7pm?" KRAZED asked, laughing.

"It's a school night…you know…some of us actually participate in school," Kimberly told KRAZED, with a smirk.

Pulling next to Brandon's truck, KRAZED tries to hand Kimberly $50-dollars.

"No you're going with me, to buy me some ice cream," Kimberly informed KRAZED.

"Is that your new code for wienered?" KRAZED asking, laughing.

"No, that's code for 'I want some motherfucking ice cream, for picking your drunk asses up on a school night, while I am in my sleep clothes,'" Kimberly snapped.

On Friday, the next day, KRAZED walks into school with Kimberly, holding orange juice.

"Where's our orange juice?" Matt shouts at KRAZED, being an asshole, as KRAZED walks into the door.

"In the cafeteria," KRAZED said, with a smile, as the principal stared at us.

"How was the ice cream?" I asked, fucking with KRAZED.

"Delicious...it was a new Asian flavor...you should try it some time," KRAZED said, laughing.

"Phillips, let me see your orange juice," the principal orders KRAZED.

After taking several sniffs, trying to find vodka, the principal hands KRAZED the orange juice.

"Football game tonight; you ready?" the principal asked KRAZED, as he wore his football jersey.

"Always," KRAZED said, as he walked off.

"Matt, Mike—you guys better be sober tonight," the principal informed us.

"Always, coach," we said.