Saturday, January 8, 2011

Hassle Addict Reaches Breaking Point

Late week, Benji Towne, totally lost his gord.  For Benji's entire life, he has loved hassles.  He loves being hassled and he loves hassling others.  Basically, he just likes making life more difficult for himself and everyone around him.

He has cited David Hasselhoff as his role model because "No one else has a name with Hassle in it...I guess he spells it Hassel, but I'll take what I can get."

When real life didn't present any hassles to Benji, he began creating his own.  He would purposely open several accounts at different banks, take out the biggest, highest-interest loan he possibly could at each of them, then not make any payments, just so he could spend hours on the phone sorting things out.  Another one of his favorite hobbies is waiting in line for a brand new ride at the amusement park that he doesn't even want to go on, so when he gets to the front, he leaves.  "Yeah, I don't really like rollercoasters or anything like that.  There's not nearly enough hassling.  I pretty much only like waiting in line.  I try to go on a really hot and humid day so everyone is already cranky and tired...then I start acting like I have the flu.  That seems to stress people out a little bit."

Don't feel bad for these pigs, Swine Flu is just a poor attempt to hassle us all.

Lately he has grown tired of hassles and has begun searching for other ways to spend his time.  "I recently took up pestering.  I just find one guy, follow him around all day, and ask him questions that I already know the answers to.  Some people call it just being annoying, but there's really a big difference."  Benji soon grew frustrated with pestering because it didn't live up to the thrill he got from hassling, so he bought a plane ticket to the Hassle Convention in Houston.  The Hassle Convention was an annual gathering of the world's top hasslers.  They got together, chatted about hassling techniques, and hassled the hell out of each other.  They even flew in short-tempered "hasslees" to roam around the convention center and get hassled by the hasslers.

Buying the plane ticket was a hassle in itself because Benji went on Christmas Eve, just so he could catch the brunt of travelers.  In the airport, he would bend down and tie his shoes in the middle of a busy food court, "accidentally" grab other people's luggage off of the conveyor belt, and would find the most frazzled person he could and repeatedly ask them the time even though there were clocks literally everywhere.

"Do you have the time?  I bought all these clocks from some Russian guy in an alley, but they keep melting."

Finally, Benji got onto the plane, but only after causing a major disturbance at the gate.  He wouldn't let anybody board until he found out who stole his iPod.  It wasn't until 17 excruciating, amateur interrogation-filled minutes had passed when he remembered that he left his iPod at home.  During boarding, he kept trying to "help" people put their suitcases into the overhead compartment, but would unzip the bags while doing so, dumping their contents into the crowded, claustrophobic walkway.  When he bent down to help the person, he would comment on all of the clothes, fondling their frillies and silkies.  

Shown: We have no idea what this is.  It was supposed to be a tie-in to "frillies and silkies", but really we just thought you should all see this picture.
Throughout the duration of the flight, Benji sniffled loudly despite not having a cold.  He struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to him, but in actuality it consisted of Benji bringing up controversial topics, then immediately disagreeing with whatever the man had to say about it.  When it came time to get a beverage from the food cart, he demanded that the stewardess get him Chocolate Ginger Ale.  When she suggested that he get something else that actually exists, Benji began shouting and ordering the flight crew to land the plane.  When they refused, he agreed to settle down if they crushed the ice cubes for him because he "hates the way the pellet-shaped ice cubes taste."

Ice Pellets: The Poor Man's Cube

Finally, they landed in Houston.  Even though the pilot announced to remain seated with seat belts fastened, Benji stood up so that his crotch was directly in the face of the man sitting next to him.  He shifted his weight back and forth and sighed impatiently until finally the pilot gave the greenlight to exit the plane.  Benji began sprinting up the center aisle, determined to be the first one off of the plane even though he sat in the very last row.  He threw elbows, tripped over people's feet, and well...was pretty much just a giant hassle for everyone on the plane.

A Hassler's Playground

He checked into his hotel without hassling anyone...we're just kidding, he was actually a giant asshole to the entire hotel staff.  He argued with the clerk at the front desk, convincing him that he booked a more luxurious room than he was given and that he shouldn't have to pay for his stay.  He also didn't let the bellboy use the baggage cart to take his luggage up to the room, but rather made him bring each bag up by hand because he didn't want his possessions to be "contaminated by that AIDS infested baggage cart".  He barked orders at the maids and even though they couldn't understand him, he made it clear that he wanted them to shortsheet his bed and not give him any clean towels, so that every morning he woke up frustrated.  Once he got settled into his room, he immediately began calling telemarketers to see if they had anything new to sell him. 

"Yes.  Yes, we still have the Dust Annihilator Vacuum for $49.95...same as last month...and the month before."

It was not until the following day when Benji went to the Hassle Convention that things took a turn for the bothersome.  The morning began with a huge ordeal, just the way Benji likes it.  He went to the lobby for the continental breakfast, but was a half-hour late.  Rather than accepting this stroke of bad luck and moving on, Benji ranted and raved until one man got so sick of listening to it that he cooked him an omelette on the sidewalk in front of the hotel just to get him to shut up.

Sidewalk Eggs are a great source of bacteria to toughen up those pussy-ass antibodies of yours.

Benji arrived at the convention center just late enough to wait in the longest possible line.  His excitement mounted when he saw that tickets were running out because he knew people would start getting very anxious and disgruntled...it was like a perfect storm...for hassling.  Luckily, Benji has bought his ticket in advance, so the only thing he had to do was stand, wait, and hassle.

At the center of every hurricane is a man making it suck worse for everyone around him.

After close to two hours of milling about in line, he began to grow bored.  That's when Geff Hitletodder arrived on the scene.  Geff, also a longtime hassler, saw Benji as just another target.  Just another seemingly normal man that was about to be reduced to a sniveling pile of unheeded pleas for mercy.  Geff first began with a light puff of air on the back of Benji's neck.  Benji mistook this for saliva, which was Geff's intention. Benji turned around and looked the nonchalant Geff, who was staring at nothing in particular in the distance. Trouble only continued to grow when Geff started flat-tiring Benji every couple of steps until his heel, as well as his patience, began to wear and chafe.  

"Yep, I 'member my first flat-tire.  Back in 'Nam.  I ain't never been the same since."

Benji finally reached the front of the line.  The Hassle Convention and all of its hassly glory was only a few feet away.  That is when Geff tapped Benji on the shoulder and asked him if he might be able to let him go in first because he just saw his group of friends passing the Hassle Help Desk.  Benji obliged Geff, for he did not want to stand in front of Geff any longer.  This could have been the final interaction between these two hasslers had fate not intervened and made things so much better.  After Geff strolled into the building, the security guard at the entrance stuck an unmoving palm into Benji's chest and told him they were at full capacity.  Benji was denied access to the one place that would accept him for what he was...a hassler.  He was a hassler without a home.  This is the moment that historians will document as the first, true meltdown.  

Let's just say, it makes Chernobyl look like you just left popcorn in the microwave for too long.

Almost immediately, Benji began clawing at the security guard's eyes and surrounding facial decorations, like that mole that he had been looking to get removed anyway.  For years, Benji had loved hassles in all forms, but today was just too much.  He knew this day was going to test his nerves and his hassle-power, but didn't expect anything quite like this.  His first mistake had been wearing his "scratchy pants" that irritated him quite a bit, so when Geff showed up, this was just bound to be the result.  Benji promptly tore off his pants in a fit of rage and began whipping them around, like some kind of housemaid full of hatching tarantula eggs.  

Having trouble keeping up with these new dance trends?  Pop a few of these badboys in your mouth and you'll be shaking all night long...until they tear through your flesh, that is.

Onlookers thought that Benji would stop freaking out after his pants were off, but it only seemed to make him angrier.  He began gnawing on his skin and swinging his fists wildly while spinning in a circle, resulting in several broken noses and several unpunched midgets.  He was speaking in tongues, like some sort of hassle-induced gibberish.  One man in the crowd was a translator of ancient languages and he determined that Benji was unintentionally speaking perfect Snail Speak.  That's right.  Snails talk to each other.  Bet you feel pretty bad for watching all of those Snail Snuff films.

It's a tough life for Inner City Snails...also, "John" is the worst graffiti tag ever.

We caught up with Geff inside the convention because it didn't seem like Benji was going to stop his rampage anytime soon.  "Wait, he's still out there?" said a surprised Geff with corn dog in hand.  "I was just fuckin' with the guy.  I mean, this is the Hassler's Convention.  Should I go apologize?  Ah, fuck.  I'll go say I'm sorry."

Geff marched out the front doors with the best intentions in mind.  All he wanted to do was reconcile with Benji and possibly make a new friend from this situation that had blown up in his face.  That last sentence would soon hold a special meaning for Geff as the second he walked out of the convention building, a homemade pipe bomb that Benji bought off a homeless man was en route for Geff's face.  Before we say anything else, we'd like to point out the humor found in a homeless man making a "homemade" explosive...just in case you missed it. You're welcome.

When "homemade" and "bomb" fall anywhere in the same vicinity, Strange Times will be there, picking up the goo.

The bomb was defective and did not explode as anticipated, but rather heated up so much that the metal materials used to craft it began turning to a hellish metallic ooze that seeped down Geff's face, leaving it virtually unrecognizable...as a face.  As an ass, people would totally know what they're looking at right away. Geff fell to the ground screaming and Benji began shouting into the sky about how he was the "Grand Hassler spoke of in the prophecies" and that he was here to "Hassle this pitiful existence into the dawning of a new age."

Commandment #6: Thou shall wait all afternoon for the cable guy.

Police arrived on the scene and before there was even a glimmer of hope for this standoff to be resolved peacefully, Benji pounced onto Geff's now corspe and gave him an abundance of wet willies.  He struggled to steal Geff's nose, but there was not one to be stolen, so he just sort of grabbed a big chunk of Geff's liquid-face pile and began throwing it at the authorities.  "They don't train us for that type of thing," said one officer.  "I did what any sane person would do...I shot the fuck out of that motherfucker."

Benji was riddled with bullets and slumped to the the curb.  He wore an expression of madness, but contentment at the same time.  He was rushed to the nearest hospital, but all attempts to revive him were done in vain.  Doctors worked for eighteen hours straight, removing bullets, stitching up wounds, asking for scalpels, as well as other doctor-y things.  The grad student that wipes sweat off doctors' brows ran out of sponges halfway through the surgery and had to use his own underwear to swipe perspiring foreheads.

"I'm so fuckin' sweaty, guys.  Oh!  Shit...I just sweat into this poor bastard.  Well, sew him up anyway.  I'm sure it's not a big deal." 

The surgery may have gone more smoothly had Benji's heart not kept starting and stopping, giving the doctors hope, then taking it away instantly.  Finally, after an entire day of non-stop surgery, the surgery team pronounced him dead, mainly because they were sick of looking at him.  When the nurse looked at the clock to annouce the time of death, she realized they had not changed the clock for Daylight Savings Time.  No one could remember if they had to "spring forward" or "fall back", so by the time they got the clock fixed, Benji had been dead for so long that they wrote down "noonish" on the report.

This method can also be used when working with Uranium.  When measuring the substance, only use terms like "a pinch" or "a handful".

Benji's body was brought to the morgue, but only after creating a scene on the elevator when his body bag got caught on a woman's purse zipper.  She revolted in horror and unintentionally caused Benji's body to spill out onto the floor, causing several passengers to vomit in fear and disgust.  One guy even killed himself, right there in the elevator, because he thought the dead were coming back to life.

If you even think you maybe possibly imagined a dead body moving, it's probably better to end your life then and there and spare yourself from the zombie massacre that is about to take place.

Disposing of Benji's body was a difficult affair, for he had no surviving relatives and no close friends.  The only acquaintance he had was a door-to-door salesman named Tad Turnbuckle.  Tad had visited with Benji once every other month to keep him updated on all the latest insurance options, Jehovah's Witnesses' teachings, and how switching to solar power could greatly reduce his energy bills.  Benji welcomed Tad's visits and even put down Tad as his only emergency contact...without telling Tad.

That'd be like this guy thinking you're his son-in-law...unless you actually are, then it's nothing like that.  Also, we're sorry this man is related to you.

Tad has since been forced to travel across the country to identify Benji's body, which turned out to be a pain in the ass because Tad couldn't quite remember what Benji looked like.  Currently, Tad is struggling with the decision of burial or cremation.  Tad has been contacted by dozens of funeral parlors, rental casket companies, and competing grave diggers.  Basically, Benji's death has become the largest burden in Tad's life.  Every minute of every day, Tad is bombarded with questions pertaining to a body that by now is surely a viscous slop in a bucket in Tad's garage.  Essentially, it is a giant hassle.  Just the way Benji would have wanted it.

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