Remember that time Eddie gave all those old people heart attacks? (I took a study break, dudes)

Man, I need a study break. Like that malignant bully from grammar school this paper is not only kicking my ass but also robbing me of my dignity as it gives me wedgies and steals my lunch money. On a side note, did anyone ever actually have their lunch money stolen by a bully? I mean bullies, in a lot of ways, are like mythical dragons or sea monsters. Everyone’s afraid of them, but do they really exist? I guess I knew kids growing up who were dickheads (and now most of them are in drug rehab/jail/leading white trash existences) but I’m not sure if there was ever a ‘clear-cut bully’ I grew up.

One thing I do remember as a kid: when I was in fifth grade, everyone pulled this one kid’s pants down. In retrospect, it was pretty dick of the kids who planned it, but, at the same time, there is something absolutely hysterical about the concept. I sorta wish people still did shit like this to adults. I don’t think you can honestly look me in the eye and tell me with a straight face you wouldn’t pee your pants laughing if you were walking down the street and saw some dude being held down by a gang of hooligans as they tore off his neatly pressed Dockers, ripped his tiddy whiteys, leaving him sans clothing from the waist down.

In any case, I wanted to recollect a story I thought of recently. So I saw this video on Collegehumor and have been circulating to Eddie and the guys. Everyone obviously finds it hilarious, as some old cooter busts his ass and probably dies of a heart attack shortly thereafter. For me, it resonates with a heightened sense of hilariousness as it reminds me of this time, in the spring of our senior year of high school, when Eddie heckled this old person home.

Well, we were driving around in my mom’s purple Town and Country minivan (formally known on the streets of Queens as ‘The Mommy Mobile’), obviously looking for old people to terrorize. At that time, terrorizing old people (the technical terms we used to denote geriatrics was ‘grannies’, ‘Beatrices’, ‘grampas’, or ‘Rooneys’) was, not only one of our collective hobbies, but also something we felt obligated to carry out (much like religious extremists who blow themselves up).

Anyway, we were cruising one lazy afternoon in early spring. I remember the weather being particularly warm, as the sidewalks and parks were filled with people, both young and old. Observing this, I knew immediately to steer the minivan toward the old person home that constituted one of our most ‘visited’ stops.

My instincts were rewarded upon discovering the hordes of old coots mingling around the home, complete with canes and wheelchairs. Eddie, the most resourceful and cunning heckler I’ve ever had to pleasure to work with, said nothing, threw the van door open, and darted ecstatically toward a group relaxing on a bench.

Eddie's hands were fastened around the waistband of his pants as he approached the now petrified gaggle of grannies and gramps. Once within 20 feet of the group, in one fluid motion he shoved his pants (and underwear) down to his ankles and turned his body 180 degrees, landing perfectly on a circular wire trashcan.

For a solid 30 seconds no one moved.

Eddie sat there, feet dangling from the trashcan, staring contemplatively into space. No one knew what to make of this. Eddie reaching behind himself, dug into the trashcan for a newspaper. Upon finding one, he threw the paper open, making it obvious he was dropping a huge dump spitting distance from the old people.

Suddenly one old intrepid stood up indignantly, pointed his quivering finger at Eddie, and with pride in his voice exclaimed, “Hey you! This isn’t a bathroom!” Having broken the ice, a chorus of grannies piped in a cheerful refrain of “Yeah!” Another old man, even more brazen, meandered with his cane toward Eddie, pausing every few steps to catch his breath and shake his fist in disgust.

You see, this is why Eddie was such a master. Anyone else would have simply gotten the cheap laugh, pulled their pants up, and gotten back into the minivan for a round of high fives.

Not Eddie.

He was so in character, so in tune with the absurdity of the moment, he simply looked over his shoulder, scrunched his face up as if smelling something foul and kept sitting/shitting.

When the cane-crawling old man finally reached Eddie, he swung his decrepit arm at him with hopes of knocking Eddie off the can. That was a bad game-time call, old man. While it did nothing to “knock” Eddie off, it did incite him to stand up, with pants still around his ankles. When Eddie turned to address the already offended audience of geezers, they got a full frontal shot of Eddie’s package.

Responding to the exclamations and confusion that confronted him, Eddie bewilderedly reasoned,“Oh? Woah, woah, this isn’t a bathroom? Sir, I believe it is. Wait, so I can’t take a shit here? Can I at least wipe my ass? No?”

By the time Eddie finally ran back to the minivan (moving awkwardly, since his legs were cackled by his dropped draws), no less than four angry old men were pursuing him. I remember hearing a perfusion of “Hoodlums” and “Get outta here ya little bastids”.

Then we drove away and the old people died. The End.