1. Moving into a new place: choices are a house of angry gays, or a guy deemed as rapey doug.
2. Dating a doctor who's way of judging our relationship status is by his cholesterol level.
Tonight’s episode: Cupid’s Lipid
“My cholesterol has gone down 3 points, it’s because of you” – That’s what it read on her phone and that was his evil attempt to woo the beleaguered young heroine through textual, health-related bragging. Dr. Lipitor thought he had it going on. Five dates, and in his mind, halfway to engagement, all it would take now is a nice dinner and lower cholesterol to seal the deal.
But that’s where he was wrong.
Meanwhile… in the highly organized and tidy lair of the Angry Gays, Chaz and Todd were hatching a plan.
“I really don’t want another roommate, Chaz,” lisped Todd.
“I realize this but as you know if we can’t secure that young, sloppy lady, we’ll lose the balance to Rapey Doug and his sinister little bitch, Buddha,” sputtered Chaz.
“I suppose you are right, the fight between Midtown and Montrose will be won or lost based on the power of Buddha and that bastard Doug who dares to keep the kids off the drugs.”
“Is that cashmere?” jostled Chaz gently kneading the fabric of Todd’s new thong.
Back in Dr. Lipitor’s waiting room…
“Dammit, my lipids are weak – I must find more People and US magazines if I ever hope to have the energy to snatch muh’lady from the grasp of the gays and that rapey wretch…”
Dr. Lipitor shuffles through piles upon piles of Highlights, US World Report and Time in a failed effort to gain the only year-old magazines that can power his lust and strengthen his lipids.
“Curses, some damn grannies must have snagged ‘em – gotta get Esther’s attention and prevent her from mistakenly wondering into the rapey lair of Doug. Maybe a nice dinner will do the trick – to the Text-Culum!”
Dr. Lipitor muddles through the elaborate keyboard of the Text-Culum to mindfully issue a message that he has news of note…
Dearest sweetpants – you can’t say cholesterol without Esther, my lipids are livid, let’s hit the Luby’s.
Ding! That was the sound shooting out of her massive purse. While she was still technically homeless, she found refuge in her parent’s home. She jokingly referred to it as a shop because the Angry Gays and Rapey Doug wouldn’t think to track her down in a public setting.
The purse weighed perhaps 30 lbs and had a labyrinthine system of passages and hidden compartments that would put just about any Viet Cong to shame.
“Shit! Dr. Lipitor is going to drive me to the brink! Why is he convinced I like Luby’s so damn much? Admittedly there was that time with the lime Jell-O but damn dude, I don’t like what your kitchen is serving!”
She hurriedly replied tapping a resilient message quashing any hope Dr. Lipitor might have…
Can’t make dinner tonight – need to find place to live and eat Taco Cabana…
Aaoooogah! He knew he had perhaps the worst ringtone ever installed on his 1998 mobile phone, but Dr. Lipitor fashioned himself a jokester – how better to entertain the aging sabre-tooth ladies sprawled across his waiting room.
“Heh, heh – old timey car horn means my baby wants to get jiggy!”
He slowly read the dismissive message and vowed to destroy that damn Cabana once and for all – all he needed were stronger lipids and maybe some C4.
Arf! Ruff! Ruff!
“I know, I know, Buddha – you need some lady essence and I will find it. I just need to find a non-Nigerian who can be chill.”
Rapey Doug escalated up to his man-cave to grab his phone.
“The secret, my dear doggie, is to affirm over and over that there are no worries. No Worries!” chilled the Christ-loving motivational speaker with a perchance for getting rapey.
If we can get just one more lady in here, we’ll be able to get rid of more of Montrose – maybe that Chances gay club or something…
“Arf!” bitched the dog.
Stay tuned for the next episode of Esther’s Jesters and find out the surprising answers to the following questions…
Will the Angry Gays be able to find the right shade of Indian corn for their pet Schnoodle’s birthday party?
Will Rapey Doug be able to lure and steal the precious flower of another woman, fueling Buddha and thereby gaining control of just a little more of Montrose for the evil Midtown Empire?
Will Dr. Lipitor finally find some measure of contentment unrelated to his damn fat cells?
And because most of you are under the age of 7/ or are two stoned to read, Here is a picture of a man who's life and the lives of anyone he has ever loved are depending on the outcome of a game of beer pong.
mong...man pong hehe