Peter Flatworth and The Rebounds II
Interrupted
By an Elvis
Last
year I was insane for this crazy little 8th grade bitch… Oh Yeah, Oh Well,
Tsung Ar, ar, ar, ar, ar”, said the zipper, “Tsung Ar, ar, ar, ar.”
The year is 1969, when music was at it’s best, and Jimi was on the dot. Sex and drugs were Hard-C, and Peter Flatworth and the Rebounds were as old as your late Grandpa’s armchair. Dozer Ma- ½ Orange Gog was about to begin.
“DILEMMA
UNK, JUPTER STUPID OUT THE GWYNTH RICHARD” yelled Fish, just for the Larry of it.
“Man you’ve been yelling shit for 300 years now.
Ever since we moved into All Branch’s the tree house, Living in the
tree house,” Bitched Lonely Child. “Yeah but it’s still funny, you hump
sheets,” said Dobber, with a huge smile on his face.
At this time, Walsh and I (Thomas the Rebound) were shreddin’ tits up on the Tommy Lift. We went to the store to buy beer, and a couple of pop tarts. On our way home to All Branch’s we noticed a sign saying that there was going to be a huge concert martin in New York. The sign read; “Groove Dummy, dig yourself, our generation getting together for a huge concert ball, dig yourself, this is groovy.”
“Let’s
go to that show and play some songs and get big again.”
I said out of all seriousness. “Man,
we haven’t played billy since the mid 1600’s; We’d suck a Scott-hole,”
Walsh Pedro said as he kicked me in the fetce. As I sat there, spitting out teeth, I decided that we would practice
ma-lunch and play at the show.
Back At All Branch’s, we all got back on our old instruments. We started rehearsing a couple of our huge Elvis big hits like Caca Covered Zinger, and our number one hit Woodstock, you fuckin’ Doll Murphy.
We were still as good as we used to be 300 years ago. We decided that we would crash this gig and start playing on the second day. Since we still had a couple of weeks we were gonna go cruise some lands, you fuckin’ Gook Louis Ma-Stink.
We all jumped on to the Tommy Lift and went warp speed to a place called, “7 Rubber Uncles”. It was the once ma-david. We wanted to drink beer and have a Johnson with all the rubber aunts. Fish yelled to the sky as loud as he could, “JAMES THE PIANO FUTURE, KNUCKLE UP MY BALLS YOGURT” The townspeople didn’t like his humor, so he ended up in jail.
“Dude,
this town’s Reema-Dorth.” Ryan
said as he pissed on a Jess fore head. “Yeah
fuckin’, we gotta willy his tits before that Bells Adam tries to have a
Robertson with him.” I said, as I
laughed and did the Matthew again. “C’mon,
let’s make a plan and break him out, you fuckin’ Trail Moses.”
Ryan ran around the back of the jail to let fish know that we would get him out. “Fish, we’re gonna get you out, you fuckin’ Smack Tyler.” Ryan whispered through the jail window. “STEVEN ASSHOLE, PAPER MATTHEW ON THE GRANDPA'S NEST” whispered fish to the sky as quiet as he could. Tony and Ryan hooked up a chain to the back of the Tommy Lift, on the bumper and then hooked that to the jail window bars. They went warp speed on the Tommy Lift and pulled the whole fuckin’ wall off the jail, you fuckin’ Math Bart. Fish escaped and we all did the Matthew. (Note that we never had a bumper on our Tommy Lift. We just needed it for that one scene.
All the Rubber Uncles started chasing us, so we went warp 5 on the Tommy Lift out of that shit town. We were all doing the Matthew when we noticed that that one Bells Adam was hanging on to the back of our Tommy Lift. He kept yelling “Robertson, Robertson.” (He reminded me of a hole-lover.) “Let me take care of this fat butt tooth fairy.” Fish said, looking all shits teriyaki. Fish grabbed this bowling pin that he got from props, and shoved it down his throat. “How’s that for a Robertson?” Fish yelled. Then he pissed on his arm garage, and kicked him off the Tommy Lift, where he plunged to his death in the Ass land.
“That place was the twice ma-sharky.” Yelled Dobber. “Let’s get the mark outta here!” Dobber demanded. We went warp speed on our Tommy Lift out of our Planet ma-off.
“Let’s go fishing on Jupiter.” Walsh said, as he kicked Ryan in the fetce. Fish liked that idea so much that he yelled to the sky as loud as he could. “JIMTHY MUNK DUNKEL, OVERIDE YOUR CHAMP ASKEL” We laughed hard-C and did the Matthew.
We
were fishing off the dock at Lake
We jumped back up on our Tommy Lift, and we headed back to All Branch’s the Tree House, Living in the Tree House. I grabbed my drum set and bolted it to the Tommy Lift, you fuckin’ Queen George. The rest of the Rebounds hooked up their amps and the rest of their shit. Peter Flatworth put on his jacket, hooked up his mic and fuckin’ took a piss. We were ready to go and shred up the farm.
We went warp speed on the Tommy Lift to New York and watched the concert from 826 miles above the ground. Janice Joplin was singing and the whole crowd was all Jessied. When she was done, we made a loud entrance on our Tommy Lift. People looked up at us in “magweet style”, watching us hovering above the stage on our Tommy Lift. We busted out with fish yelling to the crowd as loud as he could, “WHATSUPLARRYBALLFUCKIN YAMIKASKELL SING-A-SONG CENTRAL” The crowd went wild. That’s when we busted out with Caca Covered Zinger. We finished that and the crowd thought we were daddy. They were way into us, you fuckin’ Box Turkey. So then we busted out with Monkey Horn.
This song rocks the Tits Bah. People went all chair dancey, so we had to mellow them out with a ballad. That’s when we sang them Stomp Wiener. Our music was on fire. We were the cat’s butt. The whole crowd was yelling, “More, More, More, Hole-Lover, Hole-Lover” That’s when we busted out with our #1 Hit Woodstock. It’s about a giant grandma who runs amuck through Detroit and knocks down sky scrapers, you fuckin’ Bald Yellow. The crowd loved us hard. We took a bow and then took off warp speed like a bunch of freakin’ aliens.
We went back to All Branch’s, and we were hangin’ our tits. “Check it out, you fuckin’ Jackie Winchell! We’re in the newspaper.” Ryan said all excited.
It
read: “A strange occurrence at the
concert Groove Dummy; A band came down on a hover craft, played music and then
took off doing warp 5. The crowd
loved them so much that they decided to name the concert “
“That’s cool Huh?” Walsh Pedro said as he kicked Lonely Child in the fetce. Fish then yelled to the sky as loud as he could, “CRY SOME DAT-SH KONA ON MY BACK, FRANK” And I, (Thomas the Rebound) just went swimming in the fish tank, and took a yontz.
“We’ll
be back again, you fuckin’ Chicken Afro, we’ll be back,”
I thought to myself. There
will always be Peter Flatworth and the Rebounds.