SFH3 Run #1829: Beer Mile
|:||Marina Green, end of Scott Street|
|:||Who's Lost In Your Foreskin, Daddy?|
|:||Do Her Well|
“Tonight, we’re primed and ready to bring you live coverage of the greatest sporting event known to man.” Cockagami flashed a dazzling grin at the camera.
“That’s right, we’re sure to see drama, we’ll see devastation, we’ll see the human spirit laid bare before four foamy beverages. Watch as our competitors rise from the ashes of their predecessors and emerge as champions.” Zippercised clicked his pen and pointed it towards the viewers. “This—is SFH3 Beer Mile.”
“It’s a packed field tonight, and I must say, a unique sight for any sport—where else would upper management be competing alongside all the other athletes? And Who’s Your Daddy and Lost In Foreskin aren’t just in it for the attention. Both men are highly seeded. What do you think, Zip?”
“Indeed, they’ve placed well in past events, but their victory is certainly not guaranteed tonight. We’ve got a lot of great male competitors, Chain Bang and Mouth Down South look ready to rumble, and Little Sissy Pants Hasher Boy certainly has his big boy britches on tonight.”
“And we have cutting edge technology to bring every suds filled burp and each sloshing heave into your home—forget about drones, when you have the Fluffer Cam to stream high definition video into our broadcast booth.” A upclose view of Labradoodle asshole flashed on the screen. “Uh, Shaft… Shaft! Sorry folks, technical difficulties. Zippercised, where are you going?”
“In it to win it, baby!”
“Alright then, looks like this’ll be a solo job for a while, just how I like! Let’s get to the rest of the crew. Dick Simmons and Ska Skank have our non-canine video coverage for you, while Do More Stupid has set up a precision race timing system consisting of his phone. Hand Pump and Muff Daddy are on top of registering our contestants—we’re pretty sure Just Sarah didn’t know what she was signing up for, so she’s certainly in for a treat. And actually, that brings us to our women’s division. We have here Sister Fister to give us the scoop on the finer side of the sport.”
“Yeah, Cockagami, we ladies are en fuego tonight at Beer Mile. Do Her Well is over there glaring at Sleazy—she’s convinced that Sleazy has been hiding her chugging talents for years and is secretly plotting against her. Primal Vagina is warming up—getting hotter—ooh, even hotter. And I see Tonya Hardon giving Just Christina some last minute advice. We have a lot of first time competitors tonight—Reverse Schoolgirl convinced Just Shrishti to give it a go, while we’re pretty sure Just Jana made herself come. Oh! We’re off.” Sister Fister popped her can and began to chug.
“No, I got it,” Sister Fister between gulps. “Douchicorn is out of the gates first, followed by Lost In Foreskin and Who’s Your Daddy. Too Much Teeth is off to a cracking start. Zippercised is also in the top of the heat, while Do Her Well has made it off to a late start, but this is an endurance event, people. Chain Bang is out of the gates, while Handidicked and Buck Fucka finally get it going. Masterbaster and Cirque du So Lame are rounding up the Canine and Bionic divisions respectively. Good Shit is still chugging, but that’s what he does best, long and smooth.”
“Looks like things are going well for you down there, Sister Fister, well I think we’ll pass over to Udder Moron…”
“NO! I GOT THIS!” Sister Fister belched. “The first lap is finishing up, and ooh boy this is getting exciting. Yari Ben has taken a unique strategy—he brought the Big Black Cock of B2B is back in town and he is using it to beat his competitors. But it turns out that hashers are into that sort of thing, I’m pretty sure it shaved five seconds off Vagina Dentata’s time. Roman Showers and Sir Menage A Lot are in the transition zone making sure that all competitors get their beers in a timely fashion, Snot Rag just picked his up. Whorifist has taken a big swig and found it to his liking, I think he may just stay here and chug the rest of his beers instead of doing this whole running thing.”
“Can we get any crowd commentary, Sister Fister?” Cockagami asked in despair.
“Fucker, what do you have to say?” Sister Fister asked, watching Fucker groan and walk away. “Nope. Anyway looks like we have First Vomit with Stinky Floss—a proud standing that, you will have to get the high definition replay up stat. The field looks to be slowing down a little, Dick Ass Mother Fucker fumbled at the last transition area and it really seemed to jar him, and not even Rhythm Method has been able to rescue him. Cool Handjob Luke is trying not to let the vomit draw his attention, he might be a little into that sort of thing if you know what I mean.”
“Can you tell us any more about the Big Black Dick?”
“Oh, of course! I’m Drunk and Squeal 4 Me have taken back the Big Black Cock and are distracting The Perfect Woman with it. Just Doesn’t Get It is showing them his own version—it looks like he is holding his thumb in front of his pants, folks. That’s got Got Wood in stitches.”
“Meanwhile, I’m hearing word that Douchicorn has come in first, is that correct?” Cockagami asked, an edge to his voice.
“Oh… oh, yesh, but I’m still in the middle of my lapsh.” Sister Fister explained. “He’sh still got one minute countdown until he ish free to hurl.”
She rounded the last corner, directing all the cameras towards Douchicorn, watching for any sign of weakness. Gondalerrhea patted the sweat off his brow, while Minor 69er tried to give him some Racer 5 for rehydration. Douchicorn waved them all away, waiting the full minute before escaping from all the media attention and heading to his trailer.
“I knew him back in the day,” Saigon Sally reminisced. “Fame… it changes people.”
A commotion rose from the crowds. Yessiryesshesfat oohed and aahed. “It’s like fireworks…”
“That is amazing,” Rogue Cow said in awe. “I’ve never seen such a display… so many colors… and it just goes on and on.”
A tear was in Fuck Norris’s eye. “I’ll never forget this moment.”
Pepe Le Poop wiped his lips. “Does this mean I get another beer?”
“Well, folks,” Cockagami interrupted. “This seems like the perfect time for a word from our sponsors!” Just Louisa sashayed in front of the camera. “This Beer Mile was brought to you by Ocean Spray. Ocean Spray, the final result of four beers chugged in quick succession.”
“Looks like my co-broadcaster is back!” Cockagami cried out in relief. “Zippercised, what are your thoughts on the matter?”
“Uhh. Yes!” Zippercised raised a fist in the air.
“We’ve really only got one more award to wait for,” Cockagami rolled his eyes. “The competitors are taking their cool down trail, My Little Porno is arguing with the rangers, but what is on everyone’s minds is… who’s DFL?”
Circle Jerk pushed himself forward. “I’d like to thank my fans and supporters, it wasn’t easy keeping Just Get It Over With locked in a cellar for the duration of Beer Mile, but proper planning prevents poor performance, and…”
“Wrinklepecker!” chorused Zippercised and Cockagami.
“Sure helps matters when you just start after everyone’s finished,” Zippercised added.
“That’s just my style,” Wrinklepecker shrugged.
“That’s cheating!” Circle Jerk yelled. “I can’t believe that this is allowed to stand. I thought Beer Mile was clean, but this is clearly rigged—can we even trust any of this coverage to be unbiased… can we rely on what is being shown to us on television? You’ll be hearing from my attorney!” His cries faded as Fluffer dragged him off into the distance.
“And that’s all for tonight, folks,” Cockagami proclaimed. “Good night, good luck, and stay thirsty!”