Christmas at Piglet's (2013)

Academy award for best movie of the year.

Synopsis
Examination of the nature of human stupidity brilliantly intertwines gruesome murder and hysterical dialogue.

Plot
Protagonist of the story is a high functioning alcoholic with a career at a reputable investment bank. Along with several of his friends and acquaintances he attends a Christmas party hosted by Piglet in a remote town that reminds one of the neighborhoods in the borough of Brooklyn. After the dinner Wild Boar is uncovered slouched in the bathtub with protagonist's pocket knife buried deep into his eye socket. Suspicions immediately arose, however a video camera is found inside a teddy bear in Piglet's room that without a doubt puts protagonist in the room at the time of death having a threesome with Bunny and Poodle.

When Fox's body is uncovered in a closet shortly after, the guests begin their investigation as protagonist and his friend discuss effective ways of stealing pandas and best cities to climb buildings in. To ensure everyone's calmness and sobriety, the two of them systematically search the house and consume all the alcohol.

As bodies keep piling up and confusion spreads, those presumed previously dead are now considered alive and vice versa. The lines of reality blur and Wild Boar is thought to be the killer, Bunny goes on a zombie hunt and Poodle drowns herself in a bucket of valerianka in an attempt to rediscover god.

The movie ends with the protagonist and his friend discussing techniques of shaving cats inside of a turbine of a 747 in the air as they are finishing off the remainder of their vodka. In the final scene, the identity of the killer is revealed as deranged Fascist slices their heads of with protagonist's katana.

Screenplay developed by HFA over the course of a boring Champions League match.

Climbing the Ladder

D: "I'm not very good with waterfall charts..."
R: "That's why you're not a MD."
D: "Oh really? Is that the secret to getting up there?"
R: "One of the secrets. I'll write a book one day. If you want to get demoted - pie charts."

5 years

"I have been drunk for the past five years. Another day won't kill me" - Tull

CFO Files: Baby

On making executive decisions: "Let's not shoot the baby."

Nightmares: Apocalypse Edition

I had a nightmare today. In my dream somebody spread the rumor that the world shall be ending at 9:30am on the dot. Me and a hundred other people gathered around a small bus station in the middle of nowhere. When nothing happened at 9:30 I shrugged it off and went inside of a deserted shop. Inside I witness Zoran slouched over the counter and he says "you know I think she is right. That fly can kill millions if not billions". I turn to see nuclear scientist with a small vial containing a fly. At this point a downpour erupts outside. I run out to see people laughing and pointing at a guy with a professional looking video camera recording the area. Somebody yells "see it is all staged! That guy is making a movie! No end of the world" just like that the rain stops, and it starts snowing like hell. I run back inside of the store just as the snow stops and millions of small pebbles start shooting out of the sky and immediately cover the ground. Inside the store I see shards of the vial on the ground and some guy slapping his neck as if to kill a mosquito..

Oh and the nightmare part - nobody in the dream had a goddamn lighter.

Found: Crumpled Letterhead

Rummaging through a drawer I came upon an extensively crumpled sheet of paper containing the following legible excerpts:

1. She was babbling too much so I focused only on important words like "truck" and "food."
   
2. I was walking the Poodle to meet Bunny and Neanderthal.
   
3. That sounds like a lot of people are engaging in bestiality.
   
4. Maybe Poodle is correct. One day I might just lose it and take natural selection into my own hands.
   
5. Call me back ASAP dude. Me and Bunny are planning to go up the hatch. And we need another idiot.
   
6. Too many gay barbacks here.
   
7. Thank god god invented goddamn alcohol.
   
8. The best birthday present would be putting her out of her misery.
   
9. Scratch is either already drunk or still drunk.

Client Meeting

MD#1

You ready for that meeting with [client] at 3?

MD#2

(looks up at the clock)

GOD I've gotta start drinking NOW

(starts quickly walking to the elevators)

Thanks, Assholes

"Your salary is not even enough to pay my salary." - Scratch

"Your salary is not enough to pay my rent." - Phil

Recently, in context:

Tull, while at...

his parents': Sobering up was devastating.

the bar: Hurry the fuck up before I get married to more people.

work: You know that we are probably going to get shitfaced tonight and decide to shave 512 sheep inside of a turbine of a 747 that is being flown on autopilot to North Korea. Why on autopilot you might ask? Well, because we stole it and are too busy shaving goddamn sheep.

home: Our mission in life is to turn the other 6 billion perfectly normal individuals into shit slamming retards that occasionally raid home depot and go slam shits wearing creative attire.

Zoran, when asked about...

himself: I'm an enigma wrapped in a puzzle.

women: Chickens! They are all chickens!

nothing: Now. Your lips. Let us talk some more about your lips.

Autumn Has Come. Again

Doodle: Hale & Hearty for lunch on a chilly day has to be the best thing ever.
D-Clone: You had a good lunch? ?
Doodle: Yeah, I usually do. Today it was also... I'm not sure how to describe it - fitting I guess.
D-Clone: Cold outside today?
Doodle: Chilly, like I said. Excellent.
D-Clone: :)
Doodle: Thanks for listening to what I had to share :)
D-Clone: Of course.

CFO Files: Spank It

Executive visiting from the UK emerges from a conference room subtly fist pumping, proceeds to swing water bottle like a cricket bat, making appropriate whooshing and knocking sounds. CFO emerges from his office and stands in place observing the exec with a puzzled look. Confused but compelled to comment, CFO opens his mouth. "Spank it."

Nuclear Logic

Anya told me my hair looks terrible so I told Ksenia that she looks like a chuchelo. - Piglet

Doodle: How much?
Surfer: I'm priceless.
Doodle: So you're worthless.
Surfer: WHAT?!
Doodle: If you have no price, nobody can buy you.
Surfer: Yes...
Doodle: If nobody can buy you, then you cannot serve a purpose to anyone. With no purpose, you have no value.
Surfer: Okay...oh! Oh...
Zoran: That is actually a good point --
Surfer: Shut up, Zoran.

Free on nights and weekends with no discernible skill,
Can't tell if you're a consultant or my cell phone bill.
-The Leveraged Sell-Out

WFFu

"I will totally install all the shit I have on my computer at work onto iPhone and hook it up to giant TV screens at Fu, enraging all the douchebags insisting on watching golf while pounding piss beer." - Tull

Also...

"Do you have any construction sites near your home?"

The Plan: Construction Workers -> Doctors -> Construction Doctors -> Zoran (Oct. 31st)

Derek's Birthday

The Dream

Derek: "Doodle, you can't just go behind the bar and start pouring yourself drinks!"

Doodle: "It's okay, Poodle said she doesn't mind."

Derek: "That's right, I keep forgetting that her name is no longer Sophia. Keep pouring, and pour me one too. You are the greatest bartender ever, we are hiring you."

Arun: "Yes, I agree. Tony, look!"

Tony: "Nsf*$kv s@/%bsvd uuuuuuu..."

Arun: "Exactly."

The Action

Stripper, 2 years MIA, flies out of a cab upon seeing HFAs. She has changed professions but not nicknames. Tull proceeds to address her as "Stripper" repeatedly.

We ask Theo for Johnnie Blue, her mind is entirely blown. Nearly dies fetching the bottle which has not been touched in two years. Since last time.

Tull gets pissed that angry balls cost money ("That was fucking bullshit dude!"), Poodle smears clown paint everywhere, Zoran's concussion causes him to forget everything he has told me - and repeat it word for word.

Being Dumb

Smart is a star student, flawlessly dotting i's and crossing t's. Arriving well-prepared and executing tasks with machinic precision, smart has studied its history and is ready to wrestle with the canon. Cultivating circumscription, smart's eyes never leave the prize. Smart is an over-achieving athlete, accomplishing things that mere mortals can only dream of. Complex and deep, exclusive and elite, smart brims with value. Having sweated for what it's accomplished, smart pays a handsome dividend to those invested. Smart moves ever-forward. But by playing a high stakes game, smart is always paranoid that it might lose hard-won ground. Smart is always looking over its shoulder. Success or failure, win or lose, smart trades in binaries. Smart is exhausting—and exhausted.

I am dumb. Dumb is an ill-prepared slacker, riding on hunches and intuition. Willfully amnesiac—History, what's that?—dumb is a tabula rasa, full of emptiness. Caring little for progress or narrative, dumb moves laterally, occasionally spiraling back in on itself. Dumb loves easy. Eschewing climaxes and crescendos, dumb favors stasis, grids, and predictable systems simply because they require less effort. Similarly, dumb favors re—recontextualization, reframing, redoing, remixing, recycling—rather than having to go through the effort of creating something from scratch. Dumb embraces the messiness of contradiction and revels in the beauty of the ridiculously obvious. Trading on the mundane and common, dumb plays a low-stakes game. Since dumb has nothing to lose, dumb owes nothing to anyone, and in that way it is free.

On Smoking and Hangovers

"In order to ward off the hangover, Rohsenow suggested to HealthDay to drink lots of water and take a painkiller with aspirin or ibuprofen, but not acetaminophen (Tylenol), because it can cause liver damage when combined with alcohol. Drinking more to keep the hangover at bay, however, hasn't been studied, and seems counterintuitive, she pointed out."

—Yes, Science Lady, it seems counterintuitive unless you've actually ever done it, in which case it is sometimes the difference between life and death (or, at least, moaning on the couch or doing somewhat more ambulatory moaning). In any event, this article is about how college students (and, presumably, those of us who are older or less educated) "who enjoy cigarettes during a night of heavy alcohol consumption are at a greater risk of having a hangover the next morning compared to students who skip the cigarette." Researchers are not sure why this should be the case, but the simple answer is that it is because cigarettes are awesome and alcohol is awesome and when you combine two awesome experiences you offend the universe with your joy so it does what it can to see you suffer. And that is why smokers get worse hangovers.

The Cackler

Rotund old cackling lesbian at work:

The great thing about dieting, is you can start as many times as you want; like when I quit smoking. Khhhhhhh!!

Retards Tour America Part 1

If anybody asks, we went to Virginia with a guitar and two steak knives, and everybody there hates us.

On the concierge insisting a visitors' form be filled out:

Yeah, when I stayed here during Hurricane Sandy, I always saw Mami filling out these very colorful forms, but I just thought she liked to write or some shit.

On outings:

...when we went to dinner for Piglet's birthday, it was me, Sailor, Pirate, and other retards...

On seeing a current photo of Miley Cyrus::

Oh, it turns out that Miley Cyrus is only 20 - next year she will most likely stop singing. You know, she has changed a lot since Hannah Montana. Back then she was just a sweet, young girl; and I would've fucked the shit out of her.

Uh...how old was she back then?

14.

On life:

I had a seven-figure accident. Now I am the terminator.

On drinking:

That guy looks like a regular; he said two of these drinks give him a headache in the morning. Let's come back here at 1:30 and order four more.

On the past:

I used to go to New York, back when I drove a truck. I once bought 800 dollars' of heroin in Alphabet City. And now I got Hep C.

On shopping for cigarettes at Walmart:

And how many cartons would you like, sir?

All of them. 

Key accomplishments:

• Seeing a white person
• Stealing a bible
• Shoveling sliders
• Spotting a SWAG shirt worn by a swag man
• Being questioned by cops
• Getting raped by dogs
• Exceeding a bar's 6-drink maximum before 12:30pm. On a Sunday
• Climbing trees
• Racking up a $420 tab in 2 hours
• Eating live animals
• Being recognized by half of Norfolk
• Hanging out in a cemetery
• Walking a Taylor into the ocean
• Being asked where we bartend

Bottle Opener: a Zoran Story

So yesterday around 8 Zoran steals Disaster's bottle opener and hides it under one of those Patron mats on the bar. I Ferrari to Trader for a few drinks and return around 10. Zoran is completely shitfaced yelling, "I swear to god I don't know where it is, maybe I dropped it," as he keeps searching on the floor. So I return the opener to Disaster. Zoran never figured out what happened.

-Tull

Let's Play: Guess that Belief System

[It] begins with atheism. We begin with the universe and say, “It’s indifferent. There’s no God, there’s no Devil. No one cares!” So you then have to make a decision that places yourself at the center of your own subjective universe, because of course we can’t have any kind of objective contact with everything that exists. That’s rather arrogant and delusional, people who try to put things that way. So by making yourself the primary value in your life, you’re your own God. By being your own God, you are comfortable about making your own decisions about what to value. What’s positive to you, is good. What harms you, is evil. You extend it to things that you cherish and the people that you cherish. So it’s actually very easy to see that it’s a self-centered philosophy.

But it also requires responsibility, since you are taking on for yourself the complete onus for your personal success or failure. You can’t be praying to a God or blaming a devil, or anyone else, for that matter, for what happens to you. It’s on your own head. That’s a challenge for most people. Most people tend to really feel that they want some kind of external support, that they are outward looking and might want some sort of supernatural parental figure, or even some sort of existing governmental authority, existing in their life.

The Laundromat

"That's a great idea actually, I need to visit the laundromat to get a goddamn suit bag for my shirts and say goodbye to the lady that gave me a lint roller for the past five Christmases." - Tull

Bar Exit Line

"Take care guys, I need to go sue somebody."

Le Souk

Let me put it this way - when I walked in there, my third thought was, "If he were here, Bradley would cream so hard his shades would fall off." Because there's nobody I associate more with hookah, oversized drinks, and thumping music.

Mythical Deity

I always imagined myself to be a mythical deity. Something people know of, have never met but feel cool pretending to be a buddy of.
Like Jesus Christ.
I will name myself Jethro "Jesus fucking Christ I need a goddamn shit" Tull.

Tull's Dream

Tonight I had a dream that the two of us bumped into Darder's boyfriend at Fu and took him down to the pool room for interrogation. As I was threatening him with the 8 ball, Rene walked past us and the boyfriend asked him to help. In response, Rene giggled and said, "Don't worry, they do it all the time."

-Tull

Happiness

"You find it offensive? I find it funny. That's why I'm happier than you are"

-Overheard at Fu

Sober Enough

"I'm finally sober enough to get shitfaced."

-Zim

Retards or Something Like It - 2 (HFA)

It was a cold snowless night. I took another sip of my drink only to realize that I could not escape, that he would still be there. I shifted a few inches uncomfortably. Tony was still there, sprawled on the floor, 11 additional holes in his face, a small and dull knife buried deep into the twelfth one.

My keys were chained to the knife. I watched blood oozing out of him as I retrieved the knife, and I felt like I was late. A slow flick. A deep cut materialized in his neck and the remainder of his blood gushes out to make the floor sticky and flamboyantly red.

As I wipe my knife, I pay no heed. I smoke my cigarette observing a homeless individual get driven over by a guy in a Corvette. Blood and intestines everywhere. I applaud briefly before going in.

Downstairs, the game of pool is on, the strange persona wearing a leather jacket, glasses, and an unavoidable smell of Stolichnaya keeps explaining how blood looks more impressive on a white rug. As I listen to these completely terrifying stories I inch closer to the corner.

She is there. I put my badge away as it makes me feel self-conscious. She struggles but still ends up on the table, face forward. As I lift the gun, I do not hesitate. A brief flash. The room covered in red and white. I feel like a drink.

Retards or Something Like It - 1 (Cufflinks)

'Shots, bitch!'

The words rang out in of a visceral proclamation of dominance. Before he could spot the culprit, a disheveled man in glasses and a leather jacket, one elbow leaned on the alcohol-stained bar, carefully slid a shot glass of clear liquid before him.

-You know, I got so drunk here once... The next morning I felt like I was on LSD.
-Wh-what? Thank you. I'm sorry do I know you?

Tony looked at his watch. 1:30. By now the leftovers from dinner his wife had neatly placed in the fridge were as cold as a bloated corpse at the bottom of the East River. 'Oh what the hell,' he said to himself as he reached for the overflowing glass.

The somber individual to his left did not so much as flinch when he reached to clink glasses. A shaved head, oversized gold ring, and the sheer voracity with which the man emptied drink after drink told him that this was not someone he would care to run into on a dark street one night.

Without further ado, Tony raised the shot to his lips and emptied it. 'What a shithole,' he thought, and raised his hand for another.

Long-Term Relationship Barbie

Barbie wanted a knight in shining armor and vacations in the Maldives (her daddy lived in Greenwich). Ken wanted a lady on his arm and a whore in the sack (he grew up in the Bronx). Now Barbie has a perm and shops at Burlington Coat Factory the day after Christmas. Ken starts his day off with "this coffee tastes like shit" and ends it with a silent dinner. When they fight, she stays at her alcoholic mothers' and he masturbates to photos of ex-girlfriends. One night they'll die of carbon monoxide poisoning and nobody will volunteer a eulogy.

Shitmakers

Doodle: I think that aside from Professor she is the only shitmaker who has contacted me outside the holes.
HFA: She was blowing bubbles at me so I hit her in the nipple with the screw-on Scooby Doo head from said bottle. Perhaps she wanted you to support my efforts and hit her in the other nipple.

Upgrade

Doodle: I finally got a phone that has more than 16 buttons.
HFA: Oh god. Is it a rotary one?