"It's the Scotch talking"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
The funniest story you will ever read, period.

Submitted: February 04, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 04, 2009



"Grandpa's War Journal"

Grandpa: So Jenny, did we get an "A" or what? Hey where's that "A" at? So Jenny, I gather from the dinner invitation you might have "A" particular grade to show me? {Oh come on old man. Hold your scotch and just ring the damn bell.}

{Stupid ass fuckin' bell. Who could stand that? Whatever happened to a quick buzz or-}

Connie: Hi dad. Come on in. The Lasagna will be ready in a few minutes. Did you bring your appetite?

Grandpa: Yeah {Great, lasagna. Lets shit ourselves with anticipation.} Yeah, I guess I did. So where’s Jenny? I think she may have something to show me. Wink wink, huh?

Connie: About that dad, you know we- well what I'm trying to say is that's kind of the reason we invited you over here. The-

Grandpa: JENNY!!! There she is. Come give your Grandpa Peters a hug.

(Jenny gives her grandfather a faint welcome. Her arms barely touch his body, with no squeeze to the hug at all.)

Grandpa: Ohhhh! Easy there, I wouldn't want any of my old war wounds to flair up. Say, speaking of old war wounds. How did we do on our report, huh?

Jenny: I didn't-

Grandpa: What’s with the long face? Hey, you know what always cheers me up?

Connie: A fifth of scotch.

Grandpa: No, {You ungrateful bitch!} I was going to say, an "A" on an important history paper about your grandpa.
You know, I'm beginning to wonder...What's going on around here?

Connie: Dad lets just sit down and eat, huh? We can talk about it over dinner. {BULL-SHIT! We get answers now.} Yeah lets do that. Lets eat dad.

Grandpa: BULL-SHIT! We get... I get answers now. I gave that young lady the journal I kept during World War two. Now I wanna’ see that history paper and I want my diary back. NOW!!!

{Right Fuckin' now}


Connie: Dad you've been drinking... so lets all just calm down, we'll eat and it'll help you sober up.

Grandpa: OH FUCK YOUR LASAGNA CONNIE! Jenny, just go get my diary and I'll leave.

Jenny: Grandpa-

Connie: Dingus ate it dad. You happy now? Scream all you want!

Grandpa: Dingus?! What the hell is a Dingus?!

Connie: The dog dad. While we were at church last Sunday the dog snatched your diary off the table and ripped it to shreds. I'm sorry.
Your drunk. You need to-

(Grandpa Peters sits down, nearly in tears. Jenny runs down the hall crying.)

Grandpa: Those were the most important years of my life. D-DAY, that foxhole near the Rhine river...I nearly died there. All my memories, just gone. Ripped to shreds by some fucking Dingus. {Kill'em. Kill'em with your bare hands. Reeeeal slow like. Dingus too!}

Connie: I'm really sorry dad. Let me go get Jenny and she'll apologize. Ok? Just don't leave. I'll be right back.

(Connie runs after Jenny)

Connie: Jenny please...he's drunk is all. He'll get over- (Connie's sentence is interupted by the long, loud, ear-piercing yelp of a dog)

(Connie runs to the sliding glass door to check the back yard. Grandpa is chasing Dingus with his belt and has left his pants behind him.)

Connie: He forgot to put on underwear...

(opens the back door)

Get BACK in the house!


I told you what would happen the next time you exposed your genitalia to the neighborhood.

{You tell that bitch she's next! Right after Ding- SHE'S GOT THE HOSE! Run to the car! Run to the car...FUCK THE PANTS! JUST RUN!!!}

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