As a non-fan of the shitshow known as Alaskan Bullshit People, I was getting sickened by the slew of middle-aged women writing fan fiction about meeting the Brownklown Boyz and doing unspeakable… ummmm… sexy things with them.
That was the inspiration to create something written from a non-fan point of view. One in which the Brownklownz are served justice for one of their many purported lies, deceits, and scams.
As always, for the ABP FANS, I have to include the disclaimer that this is in fact fiction and not in any way real. Now put on your helmet and board the short-bus to Browntown as we embark on an epic make believe journey called:
Chuck Norris Meets The Brownklownz
Ketchikan at sunset. It’s truly an immaculate vision that will stay in your memories forever. However, the peace and tranquility I experienced there was suddenly broken up by the noise of a small crowd outside the paltry old church just beyond the dock.
Piquing my interest, I walked over to see what all the excitement was about. As I entered the doorway to a small room at the side of the church, I recognized Bilky Brownklown and three of his offspring. They were engaging churchgoers with stories of woe and grief, then presenting them with a CD that contained Bilky reading a few of his original children’s stories that would surely entertain their grandchildren.
The gullible crowd seemed to be eating it up, hanging on their every word. The money flowing from parishioner wallets to the Brownklown family surely dwarfed the minuscule donations the church received from the prior service. The Brownklown’s were flush with excitement and pride as they saw their next few days being financed by the good people of Ketchikan.
As one customer received their CD, they opened it to look at the contents. When they turned the CD over, I could see the entire backside of the media was shiny and new. In other words, there was nothing written to the virgin surface. A novice wouldn’t notice such things, which is why the Brownklowns were feeding on the desolate outpost. These kindhearted people were paying $20 for a blank CD. It was clear these churchgoers were just another day’s haul for this vagabond band of grifters known as the Brownklowns.
I waited patiently by the door, smiling at each happy customer as they left the premises with their purchase. I didn’t have the heart to break it to them that they were conned and would only be giving their children and grandchildren the gift of a blank CD. My anger swelled with each look at the Brownklown’s, especially Bilky. But I put forth a happy exterior, patiently waiting for the right moment.
Finally, the last of the victims left the room, the proud owners of a Bilky Brownklown Children’s Stories blank CD. All the Brownklown’s were counting their bounty, too busy to notice I was still inside. I slowly closed the door and locked it, making sure no one could get in… Or out.
“Weeeeeeee maaaaaaaaaaade aaaaaaaa looooooooooot offffffffffffff monnnnnnnnnnnney, daaaaaaaaaaddy,” Gaybe slurred out. His speech made it clear I would be dealing with someone suffering from slow mental development, meaning his super retard-strength would most certainly make him the most physically intimidating man in the room.
I began a slow clap, like at the end of a John Hughes film. Bilky, Gaybe, NoDuh, and Bore lifted their heads and gazed in my direction.
“Would you like to buy an ek-shtreem CD?” Bore asked. “No,” I said. “What I’d like is for you to return the money you took from the townspeople and never show your faces here again.”
Bilky looked up from his fistful of twenties. “And why would we do that? We need this money to prepare for winter. Hotel rates in Seattle are going up and we can’t be expected to WORK for the money,” he replied, chuckling at the end which elicited laughter from his mentally deficient chuds.
My only response was to simply stare right back into the ‘dead behind the eyes’ face of the Brownklown patriarch. “Hey, you’re that Chuck Norris guy I should know about but don’t because we lived in the bush boats for the last 30 years,” Bore said.
Bilky turned to his left and gave a nod to Gaybe, indicating he should take care of me and make sure I didn’t alert anyone to the scam before the family could skip town.
Gaybe rose up and started towards me. His eyes looked almost crossed in anger as he got closer, raising his fists higher with each step. I realized he was going to be my biggest hurdle in this skirmish, so I took care of him in the simplest way I knew how. I initiated a kick with my right leg, putting enough strength behind it to make a 50-yard field goal. The toe of my work boot found it’s mark, the mushy center of Gaybe’s groin. The immense force resulted in a literal ‘pop’ sound emanating from his nether-region. Before I could fully remove my foot from what used to be his healthy scrotum, he buckled and went to the ground. The pain was so intense that he vomited as he was falling to the floor. When he landed, he curled into a ball, cupping what was left of his manhood in his hands and making a crying sound consisting of slurred, gurgled moans.
Knowing I had felled the biggest threat physically, I turned my attention to the other ‘men’. NoDuh decided he was going to have a go using his cane as a makeshift sword. It was easy taking it away from him and now that I had it, my best bet was to introduce the handle end of the cane to his skull. However, his top hat made it a difficult option. Nonetheless I took a healthy overhead swing, landing the end of the cane squarely on the top of his top hat. To my surprise, the hat didn’t cave in. It simply absorbed the blow and fell further down his head. The brim was now just below his eyes, essentially blinding him. NoDuh swung his head side to side trying to get it off but it was securely wedged around his swollen, self-absorbed cranium. He stuck both arms straight out and proceeded to walk into the wall, then turned and walked into a table next to where his father was sitting on the floor. It was like watching a bad silent film. “I can’t see-ahhhhhhhhhhhh,” he yelled, bumping again into the same wall he did hit previously.
Bore, being the last child standing, ran at me in the most extreme way possible. Instinctively I raised my left hand and placed it against his forehead. Keeping my arm outstretched and firm, he was not able to get any closer to me as his arms swung wildly, desperately trying to make contact but falling short by about a foot. I let this go on a for quite a few seconds. I was conflicted in that I didn’t want to hurt the poor little fellow. It would be like beating a small child. I decided instead to use NoDuh’s cane and give him a swift crack on the ass. I had to swing so low it was almost like hitting a golf ball. As soon as it made contact I immediately felt bad for hitting a midget, but it was in self defense after all.
Realizing that if he continued he would be extremely hurt, Bore ran to the door, unlocked it, and ran out onto the dock. As he ran I could see his ‘Extreme’ tattoo on his back, making me think he should change it to say ‘Extreme…ly Tiny’.
Bilky was still trying to get his bulbous, lazy ass off the floor. I figured it would take him a while longer so I decided to assess the situation with the rest of the Brownklownz’s. Gaybe was nearly unconscious now, still writhing in pain and crying… Not only because of the incredible pain, but also at seeing his siblings summarily pummeled. His pant legs were soaked in blood. It looked like the opening scene in ‘Carrie’.
NoDuh was still walking around the room, unable to see due to his top hat being forced down over his eyes. It occurred to me that a ‘genius’ might have tried removing the hat with his hands, but he instead opted to continue walking around with his arms outstretched, bumping into every wall and fixture in the room.
It was clearly time to put this genius out of his misery. I walked up behind him and placed my arm over his shoulder and across his chest. This would allow me to hold his body still so I could violently twist his neck 90 degrees, snapping it and putting him out of his misery instantly. My hand, however, grabbed the brim of his top hat and not the side of his face. The twisting resulted in the brim scathing it’s way across his eyes and nose bridge. It also contained enough force to remove the hat while I was twisting it.
“I can see-aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” NoDuh exclaimed. When he turned towards me, I noticed a red burn strip glowing from ear to ear across his eyelids and lower forehead.
I swept the leg. I think I got the gimpy leg… I’m not sure as it seems to change with every episode. Either way, his other spindly leg was unable to support his enormous androgyny alone, causing him to fall to the floor face first. While on his stomach, I was able to pull his Hot-Topic leather pants down below the ass cheeks. I took the tip of the cane, with rubber stopper still in place, and proceeded to shove it in his balloon knot. It met with resistance, so I placed my entire 180 pound frame on the handle of the cane, forcing it a good two feet in. When I stood up, NoDuh’s back was arched, howling “OWWWWWW-AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH” like a rabid wolf.
I couldn’t leave it at that. I just couldn’t. I backed up, raised my leg again, and put my full force into a roundhouse kick to the handle end of the cane. This time, it entered Browntown in it’s entirety. NoDuh’s body went limp, and as his head turned to the side I could see the bottom end of the rubber stopper protruding from his mouth. Justice served.
Bilky finally rose and ran at me. At least I think he was running at me. It was either that or he tripped over something which would force him to miss work again. He took a swing at me that was delivered so slow you could time it with a calendar. I grabbed a quarter from my pocket and dropped it to the ground. Bilky followed it with his eyes and fell to the floor trying to grab it.
As he shuffled on his hands and knees trying to reach the rolling coin, I stomped on the mid section of his back causing him to fall flat. I placed my knee in the small of his back and used my hands to reach around his head and grab each end of his walrus-ey soup strainer he calls a beard. I began pulling on the hairs as if handling the reigns of a horse. I pulled harder and harder, causing his head to bend back.
Finally, the hair follicles, which consisted mostly of dirt and bong resin, gave up. I found myself holding each half of the Brownklown patriarch’s detached beard. I stood up, walked to the door and out onto the porch. By then several townspeople gathered around after hearing the skirmish inside. I held up the beard halves, letting the bloodied ends hang down, and let out a howl the likes of which Browntown has never heard.
The townspeople quickly realized what had happened. “It’s done!” one old-timer exclaimed. “The evil is destroyed!” shouted another. Frightened families slowly opened their doors and peaked out. When they saw it was true, the elated occupants ran into the streets. The entire town soon erupted in cheers, realizing the evil that plagued their town was now vanquished, never to darken their shores again.