Seymour and Pepe: Beginnings (okay)

Super Scooter

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Chapter Twenty-Sevens, okay

... Chapter twenty-seven?

Si, si, chapter twenty-sevens, okay.

What happened to the other twenty-four chapters?

They were getting borings, okay.

Boring??? You can't skip over the entire story just because you think it's boring!

What? I want to get to the good stuffs, okay. The part where the daring prawn breaks off on his own! ... and there's sexy super models in this chapters!

I don't care. Read it right, Pepe.

But---

Pepe!

Grrr! Ju are like a womens, okay!

Chapter Four (and muchos dumb, boring contents, okay)
 

Super Scooter

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Chapter Four (and muchos, dumb, boring contents, okay)

We were working the clubs, and we were the hottest thing this side of bananas!

Er, I'm not liking this analogies, okay.

You don't like bananas?

No, I don't like bananas. I like the songs. I don't like the bananas, okay.

... Bananas have songs?

"This sh--- bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S." It's the only way I know how to spell it, okay. Anyway, anyway, lemme tell them the rest of this parts, okay.

Okay!

Okay, okay. Since we were in the bathrooms anyways, the club owners, and with a court order from the boards of health who said we were not allowed to spend all of our times in the toilets, began to pay us monies to be in there singing as restroom attendants, okay! Thus, adding another name to our growing list of employmentation, okay.

A list which includes, but not limited to the following:

Short-order cook
(the food was so terribles, they were always short orders, okay)
Lounge Assistants (I lounge, he assists)
Sewer Evacuator (this goes along with the restroom attendants job, because sometimes, ju just have to evacuate the toilets, okay!)
Door-to-Door Bungee Salesmen (just think! All the comforts of bungee jumping experienced from jour own roof, okay! ... this was not as good an idea as it sounds on papers.)
and Male Strippers! (but that's a whole 'nother story, okay!)

Anyway, this was where we were discovered!

In the toilet!

Yes, in the toilet. ... Hey!

Because one day, while we were singing in the toilets as we performed our duties (get it? duties?) as restroom assistants, a Mr. Billy Bernstein, a local talent agent, was taking a dump, okay.

In OUR bathroom! Oh, it was the biggest thing ever!

... This is disgusting, okay!

What's disgusting? What happened?

Just because the man's turd was humungous, doesn't mean ju have to tell everybody about it, okay!

... This story's going down weird places.

It's so fantastic! I'm loving it, okay.

Anyway, Mr. Billy Bernstein heard us singing!

And he payed us a thousand dollars to knock off the racket!

And it was enough money to buy our way... to HOLLYWOOD!!!

... But not without many pit-stops, and the incredible stories that will be chapter five, okay.
 
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