Title Bout: Klausen Vs. Jason

Come one, come all! The fight of the decade is under way. In one corner we have Jason “Thirsty Puddles”. Ignore the stench and filth. Cut through the albino tinge of the skin and green teeth. The man’s a killer. The dirty wisps of what once was human hair cling to his scalp, as he flexes his toothpick arms, and runs screaming towards his prey. Moldy sweaters and dirty pants, stiffened with grime, complete the ensemble.

In the opposite corner we have Chris “Minus-One-Testicle” Klausen. Pseudoly-muscle bound. Rippled with which might have been biceps and triceps, if he ever worked out. A swaggering brash youth, long head-banging hair, with pushed out T-Shirts and ripped up jeans. Ignore the fact that Schultz nearly threw him off of a cliff, while climbing on his back like a screaming spider monkey. This boy’s ready to rock.

So ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, hermaphrodites of all ages. Step up to the plate and take out your soy sauce. It’s time for the fight of the ages.

It was a drunken summer night at Comstock, one of many. People had come and gone. Mouse was passed out in his lair. Mike was stumbling around the house, and Aaron had gone of somewhere with Ann. The Clan Frank had stopped by and were toasting to the God of Beer well into the night. Klausen had brought along his woman at the time, Cathy, and Jason, who normally scooted away from our social situations became stupidly enamored of her.

Jason had one too many beers and found himself listening to his inner douche-bag, the one that tells him how great he is, and that oxygen’s for losers. He wanted her and he would posses her. He could feel the connection flowing between them. If only she felt it too! It would only take a quick glance into his bloodshot eyes, and she would be overcome by the love bonds between them. If she had no sense of smell it would’ve been a snap.

Needless to say, the situation was ludicrous. Jason, pushing forward his strands of hair, stared at Cathy from across the room like she was a packet of peanuts, and he couldn’t wait to tear it open and taste the salty goodness. He leered for a good thirty minutes, his mouth grinning stupidly, then he decided that it was time to act!. Every chance he got, he sidled up to her trying to insert himself into the conversation, a prelude to his future-hopeful attempts to insert himself into her. She would be standing amoung people, glasses placed precariously on her nose, chatting about whatever empty headed vacuous nonsense came galloping over the horizon, then there was Jason adding useful tidbits, like:

“Yeah?”

“Oh really?”

“Tell me more!”

Fascinating. Enlightening. Artfully witty repartee. Worthy of Oscar Wilde. But for some reason, Cathy did not respond, and was actually creeped out by him. Maybe she didn’t read enough stories by turn-o-the-last-century homosexuals.

From the outside it was pretty obvious what Jason was doing. Everyone who was not talking in the group around Cathy, was pointing and laughing at Jason. Of course, this happened so often that Jason didn’t notice.

It was like a slow moving tribal dance. She would move to one place, and Jason would move over there. She would move again, he followed. Her friends would surround her, he would wait for an opening, and BOOM. He was in like Flynn. Mike, slipping into his nice-guy persona, attempted to give Jason a piece of advice about him not having a chance, but to no avail. If Jason had ever listened to anyone, he would’ve taken a shower once in awhile.

Klausen was getting ever more agitated. Here was this scumbag attempting to hit on his girlfriend right in front of him. Normally Klausen would’ve gone into ballistic mode about then, but as he later told me, he didn’t want to piss off the guys living there by putting a smack down on Jason. He was considerate like that. We should add that Klausen, for all of his bravado, rarely got into fights. It that typical Buffaloian way, he talked a big game, but usually did not have to play. He was more of a threatener and intimidator.

The waltz moved outside. Jason was being pushier and pushier. He was openly following her now. All to the delight of everyone, except Klausen and Cathy. Then first blood. Klausen “accidentally” jerked his arm back and elbowed Jason right in the chest. Jason stumbled back several feet and spilled his beer all over my pants. He looked around stupidly, not knowing what had happened, and said to me “Why don’t you get out of my way,” even though I was originally nowhere near him.

Jason went back in for another beer. The discussion in Cathy’s group led around to what a disgusting weirdo Jason was, and how to get away from him. Mike may have gone to bed at this point, I’m not sure. But the idea came around that if you couldn’t evade him by going out, then go up!

Onto the roof of the garage we climbed. An easy place to access, by balancing on the chain link fence at the back of the property and hauling yourself up. Beer and agility never really seemed to go well together, but I remember that we used to do this semi frequently. Still the small party clambered up and things continued on peacefully till Jason’s return.

He came out, and stared around confused. Where had everyone gone? Had they disappeared? Was it hide-and-seek? He tried a hesitant cry of, “Cathy?”

Klausen then lost it. “Motherfucker get the hell out of here!”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll kick the shit out of you. You think you can take me, huh? Step up to the plate!”

Jason was disturbed and disorientated. Most people tried to get away from him, and this one was asking him to get closer.

“No no. I uh..”

“Fuck you man, just fuck you. Make your move. Yeah!”

“Uh I just…”

“What? What was that?”

Jason unmanned before true love, turned yellow and slunk off. He would bide his time, like he always did. While leaving he muttered, “I’m not going to do anything.”

Klausen turned around. “What did he say?”

Which is when, with my finger on the proverbial button, I decided to play Nuke ‘Em, and let slip the dogs of war.

“He said you’re not going to do anything.” I offered.

“Motherfucker!” Klausen jumped of the roof. “Holy shit!” I thought, “This ought to be good!” Klausen zipped across the yard and was in the house after Jason in a second. I cautiously climbed down and went after him. The roof emptied, as they others mirrored my own thoughts.

Entering the house, I heard yelling and screaming coming from the living room, with something large being pushed around, and a loud thump on the floor. In the living room, Jason was getting out of a decrepit plush chair, and Kalusen slammed him back down into it.

“You said I’m not gonna do something. I’ll fucking do it right now.” He aimed a shot at Jason’s head, but only managed to hit the wall, as Jason curled up into the wailing ball. Screaming and crying, he made very little sense.

“Come on! Come on!” Klausen hit the wall over and over. Jason finally just broke and ran. Out of the house and into the cruel streets of Buffalo, leaving the front door wide open. Where he went I have no idea.

Klasuen just watched him go, and shook his head. “Motherfucker.” He mumbled. Angry and pumped, he declared, “I want to kick his ass.”

“Well you know, you ought to do something to his room.” I agitated. Demostarting how, being a provocateur was one of my natural geniuses.

“Good idea man. Let’s go!”

Off we went on a merry ride of fortune and fun. To the back of the house we ran. I pointed out the door, and Klausen slammed his shoulder into the door, bursting it open.

That was when I saw the kink in the plan. “Trashing Jason’s room” is a bit of an oxymoron, as there was little we could do to damage it that Jason had not already done. It was filthy, disgusting, covered in grime. No one would go near the bed, and his clothes were all piled in a corner, waiting for their yearly wash. It looked like some wild beast had been penned up there, and built a nest in the corner.

Still we gave it the good old college try, and did our best to make chaos out of chaos. The drawers were pulled out of the dresser and all of their contents dumped onto the floor. The closet was ripped open and hangers, unused in an age, were tossed about. Klausen then discovered a jar of pennies and had a great time spinning in a circle letting them fly about helter skelter.

To me something was missing, and I knew what it was. I had to point out to everyone which was Jason’s room. We needed a marker to identify it as such, in case we needed to come back at a later date. I went into the kitchen to look for a useful medium for the sign. In one of the smudged glass cabinets I discovered an old bottle of soy sauce. Perfect. I went back to the room, which now had various pieces of paper fluttering about it, and wrote Jason’s Place on the wall. I knew he’d be pleased at my thoughtfulness.

The game wound down, as everything that could be tossed on the floor was on the floor. Boredom now settled in. Cathy said she was tired, and Klasuen decided, “Fuck it. Let’s get out of here.” We said our fond farewells, and they departed into the night. I remained to enjoy what was let of the evening.

A few hours later. Jason returned, and soon followed Aaron and Ann. Shaking with rage, and his buzz completely killed, Jason stepped into his room and hollowed at the destruction there. Ann, Aaron and I went to look.

Jason stood in the middle of the wreckage, fists clenched in impotent fury.

“Jesus Jason,” I said, “What did you do?”

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8 Responses

  1. An ecellent post and well worth the wait! Now that you have dredged this up, I have a dim recollection of having heard about this after the fact.

    I’m assuming Rai-Ann wasn’t there or Jason would not have been hitting on Cathy, or she would have protected him from Klausen.

    The question has now come up a few times. How did we know Clan Frank again? Was my assumption that Schultz met them at ECC City campus correct?

  2. Good post. I didn’t know you modified Jason’s words as he left the backyard, but if I had put any thought into it the obviousness was there.

    Yes, the connection to Clan Frank was what?

    BTW, faithful readers, this marked the 100th post, a feat we reached quite quickly. I expect the next 100 stories to be just as entertaining. Even if we find the boast of “endless stories” rather exaggerated, I expect we will all be entertained in retirement by reading posts from our favorite blog, albeit through cyber-eyes, or some such techno-deal.

  3. Oh, and nice hidden Red Dwarf reference!

  4. Thank you. I was wondering if anyone was going to get the reference.

    From what I remember Schultz met the Franks and associates through Pete Okartz, whom Matt was hanging out with a lot of the time. Schultz had access to a vehicle and was willing to drive people around, and thus quickly became popular among them.

  5. I know what you mean. I’ve used dozens now from different sources most of us should get, but no one has ever commented.

    I guess the question is now, how did Matt know Pete Okartz?

  6. Matt met Pete at Rocky Horror. Pete used to come semi-regularly. I guess they becmae friends because they were equally vapid.

  7. I’ve noticed the references, I just didn’t think to comment on them.

  8. I kept telling you, he couldn’t have met clan Frank at ECC since they were high school students or dropouts.

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