Robert Evans was wiped out.

He had just spent the previous night at the Tropicana where he met his newest girlfriend "Bunny." She had worked there for years but this night was just for Evans. She wanted him to see what it was all about, these days. (He hadn't been in awhile.) Oh, girl in hat, cartoon.

The End.

Pauly is the smartest, funniest boy in the world.

Blossom's awkward adolescent shyness was forever obliterated at her first kegger. Evans sat in the hottub nearby, smoking a cigarette and looking on in approval as his carefully laid plans came to fruition. The whipped cream was just the beginning.

*Using all five is way too fucking hard.

Dearest Mayim:
Its time for your comeback.
Picture a movie about competitive vegetable shortening wrestling, with you as the underdog.
It'll be the hottest flick since the one about young He-Man teaming up with the oversized, mutated sperm.
Speaking of sperm, make a like a bunny and come to my pad so we can discuss the script.
Ciao, baby.
-R.E.
PS: If anyone calls you Blossom again, I'll give em a knuckle sandwich.

Reuters:

Seconds after flaunting her new engagement ring to Sherry and Veronica, daughters and heir to the
Evans fortune and Mansion in Chinatown, child-teen sensation, Ms. Bialik, was found unconscious fondling a rabbit.

Said Mr. Igoo, a bystander who claims to have witnessed the entire ordeal ...

"I Saw everything. A Gloop of Jelly appeared out of thin air, and was responsible for placing that bunnt in Ms. Bialik's hands. And, it was at that moment when a flashing light filled the room and then disintegrated it and a humanoid looking robot. It was very strange."

Well, I'm a sucker for a good up front challenge so here goes:

Robert Evans was out walking one day, when he suddenly ran into Mayim Bialik. And even though she was wearing a very funny hat, all he could think of was how great she would look in a Whipped Cream Wrestling fight. So, in order to try and charm her he said: - Hi there, Mayim! Ahem... you know I have this hugely successful cartoon, Kid Notorious. I know you did some great voice work in the Kim Possible cartoon... How would you like it if I got you a part in Kid Notorious? - Really, You could do that? Mayim did a little jump as she clapped her hands together. - Do you think I could do the voice of a sexy Playboy Bunny or something? - Sure, he said, as he slipped his arm around her shoulder and they walked off toghether.

So there I was at Yoko Ono’s psychedelic petting zoo with screen legends John Rhys-Davies and Sir John Geilgud. Davies was wiping his chin after biting the ear off of a live rabbit on a dare from Geilgud, who was always a prick that way, God bless him. Just then who shows up but Mickey Rooney, that smug little son of a whore. He was always flaunting his fine collection of Hanna Barbera production stills. Was I jealous? Sure I was, especially a recent gem from the lost episode of The Herculoids, but I’d be damned if I was going to let that insufferable toad know.

In my haste to leave I bumped into a delivery boy who was rushing down the street to deliver what must have been a quart of pork lo mien to God knows who (wink, wink). Well I smashed the twerp across the bridge of the nose with my shoe and as he looked up at me all he could muster was a weak expression of thanks; he knew the score and I appreciated it. Years later that very same delivery boy would hit it big on a little show called Kojak. His name? Telly Sevalis. True story.

Weary and stinking to high heaven of lo mien and rabbit blood I decided to pop in to a weekly, underground, no holds barred girl fight that I often frequented hosted by Sammy Davis Junior. Should I have gone home and slept off the week-long bender I was on the business end of? Sure. Did I stay out all night and grope several of the competitors and a young but supple male referee? You bet.

Years later I got a call from Bernie Levinson, a well-known putz of an agent originally from Cleveland. Well it seems that night after I left Sammy’s place I accidentally impregnated his wife and shot one of his daughters in the foot and he wanted to know if I’d do him a favor. I told him he should be thankful that it wasn’t the other way around and we had a good laugh. He pitched me an idea for a new show – a family thing with wildly successful mother and a deadbeat dad that he wanted to cast around his client Ted Wass who would play the father. I said, “Bernie! I love it but you’re coming at this all wrong. Kill off the mother make the father a musician and give the vehicle to the precocious and adorable Mayim Bialik and I’ll get your show on the air.”

You know the rest of the story.

Signed,
R. Evans

Gleep had no idea what had happened.

Two hours ago, he had been sitting at a table at Chuck E. Cheese enjoying some pepperoni thin crust with his best friends in the world: Robert Evans, Mayim Bialik and Fuzzy Wuzzy Bunny. Now, he was in a jail cell with three first-degree murder charges hanging above his globular head.

"It wasn't me. I swear," says Gleep to the sweaty detective guy shining that light thingee in his face. "I couldn't hurt a fly. Or a washed-up Hollywood producer. Or a 80's sitcom "star." Or a bunny, for that matter. Especially not a bunny."

Suddenly, the door to the interrogation room swings open to find Dando, son of Zandor and Tara. He looks agitated, like all people in crime movies look when they suddenly interrupt interrogations.

"Hey guy, leave this to me," he says. "I'll get the information you need."

The sweaty interrogator leaves the room and Dando pulls out what looks like a whip from his back pocket. Gleep is terrified.

"Please, Dando. I thought you were my friend. Don't do this," he pleads.

"Dude, what are you talking about? I know you didn't do it. This is a leash for my dog. Let's all sneak out of here and go watch some whipped cream wrestling."

"All right," says Gleep.

And they do.

THE END

When Robert Evans tells you it's time to leave the party, it's time to reassess yourself.

He found me at this 'party', which was more awkward than it usually gets when somebody recognizes me. I mean, usually, it's a couple of uncomfortable reminders about my show and my age and the fact that I still got the same nose, and I usually go, "well, that's why I'm doing this", and they throw in an extra fifty or something... But that's usually it. I haven't had a stalker in three years.

Anyway, I'm in the pool, and we're trying to wrap up before it gets all runny somebody's standing on the lip of the inflatable pool. I look up, and there's ROBERT EVANS. And I lose my composure, and say out loud, "Fuck!"
And he says to me, "Now, now. You've too pretty a mouth to be wasting time on words like that..."
Just like that, we're done with our show, and the bachelor party moves on to other games. But Mr Evans sends me upstairs to shower, so we can talk in the kitchen.

When I get to the kitchen, he's there, cooking up some stir-fry. He slides a plate over to me, along with a bottled water. I ask, "Is this okay, Mr. Evans?"
"It's my bachelor party," he says. "I got two more this week; my friends are very happy for me. But let's talk about you; what's brought you to this sorry state?"

"Oh, I don't know... It got hard to find roles; Bette didn't want to play family roles, so I lost that in. And I was supposed to be in the first "Surreal Life" series, but Corey sent the producers this video I made at college when I got all depressed and wanted a rhinoplasty-"

"Oh, baby, get over it! You're a babe! Don't be one of these girls worked up about this body part or that. Take it from me: it's all about the whole package. The eyes, the nose, the lips - it's a perfect package. If you're gonna take care of any one thing, take care of that mouth of yours. That's your real meal ticket...
"But you didn't get the 'Sureal' job cause of the tape?"

"They didn't recognize me. That's when they decided I was too below the radar, and they went with Corey.
I was even dropped by a magician; he said the audiences liked the bunny better..."

Evans passed me a glass of red. "Honey, this never should have happened. I wish you'd had found me sooner. I coulda used you for the Phantom; you and Bruce Campbell- that would have been a helluva thing...

"I got an idea. I'm gonna talk to Saim over there, and I can guarantee that you'll have an audition with him before you get to the bottom of that glass."

"But- Mr Evans? Are you sure? I just want to get changed and go."

"Baby, wear whatever you like..."

*************

Six months later, I'm cast in the big-screen version of The Herculoids. It's a Pixar film... although it's their contractual obligation for Time Warner, so it might go straight-to-video...
And I'm co-starring with Eric Bana and Jennifer Lopez... although I'm doing the voice of Gleep, and I got the same freakin' line 500 times in a row...

Yeah, I said 'freakin'. Robbie told me I needed to take better care of my mouth.

HOLY SHIT!

I leave for a few hours to go to the museum and look what you people come up with!!

These are fantastic. I had no idea y'all had such vivid imaginations. I love it.

I'm going to have to do this again sometime...

and I can't believe how well you all have the Robert Evans voice down.

How about something in a different vein?

My name is Banner. Rex Banner. I do jobs in New Orleans -- you know the kind, missing ladies, cheating husbands, business partners, general disagreements. Messy jobs, quiet jobs, the people in the French Quarter know me and know I'm the one to get their job done. I get paid ok -- ok, that is, in cash, but I usually get the girl too. I'm a private dick, and I'll get it done for you. And take your wife home and get it done for her too.

Now, I'm not used to a high-class type of broad coming to my office. I'm on the third floor, above a cathouse -- the madam spots me bourbon and sodas in return for keeping an eye on her girls, bringing home any who stray. So, when a belle with a wide-brimmed hat and an expensive checked dress walked in my door, it was a surprise. It was even more of a surprise that she was beaming.

"Mr. Banner," she asked, "can you help me? I need the perfect pet. A perfect friend for my little brother? It's his birthday!" She giggled. I put my feet up on my desk. "Miss, I don't know who you are, but that's not exactly my scene. I do missing persons, business disputes, things like that. A little gritty, a little dirty, a little messy. Not pets." Her smile never fell.

"Mr. Banner, let me explain. My brother's birthday is this evening. He's just lost his beloved pet! They would play in the forest for hours, him and his giant paramecium. They'd run through the fields and lay under the big oak trees, cuddling for hours. Nobody else would spend time with my brother when he was just wearing his loincloth. But, then, one day the paramecium was hit by a car. It was crushing to my brother. Will you help him have a happy birthday?"

Well, I'm a sucker for a lady. I can never say no, so I said yes. I promised her the pet by 4pm -- two hours. Then I ushered her out of the office and thought for a moment. I needed a bourbon and soda. That's right, a bourbon and soda -- and some inspiration with it. I knew where both would come from.

So I went downstairs. "Madame Claire," I boomed when I walked through the door, "my usual, please." A bourbon and soda was sitting on the counter for me by the time I sat. I scanned the room, my eyes squinted slits sucking in the low light. I was looking for those two ladies, the ones in the blue bikinis, who liked to do the show with the whipped cream -- the whipped cream and the adorable pets. And then I saw them. "Madame Claire," I said, staring into her deep black eyes and pointing, "could I have that?" She smiled her lopsided smile and chuckled her rye-and-tobacco throaty laugh.

And, two hours later, my client's smile was even bigger than it had been as she walked in my door. She held that bunny out in front of her like a child, and giggled and giggled. I imagine her brother probably did the same. Maybe sometimes it's my job to make people smile, not frown. That'll do. I'm Rex Banner. I get jobs done.

"Yeah, I fucked Blossom."

"No, shit" Mark said, as he passed the cards around the poker table.

"Yeah, fucked her good."

Vladimir, who grew up in the Ukraine, looked confused.

"What or who is Blossom? Sounds like the name of a deranged bunny rabbit."

"Mayim Bialik, you moron. Didn't you ever see Blossom?"

"No."

"Well, she's a big celebrity."

I checked my cards. I had a lousy hand. Mark adjusted his chair. He looked uncomfortable. He hated it when I outdid him in anything. For a faggot, he sure was competitive.

"Well, I once fucked Robert Evans."

Everyone at the poker table burst out in laughter. The competition began. And it wasn't about cards anymore. Roy chimed in.

"Big deal. I once fucked two chicks at the same time. They were kinky as hell. I put whipped cream all over them and then we fucked all night."

"That's bullshit," I said.

"I once fucked a girl for six hour straight. It almost put her into intensive care." said Brian.

Vladimir threw a poker chip at his head.

"It's true," said Brian. "I used creative visualization. Whenever I wanted to orgasm, I thought of a Herculoid holding back my sperm back with a giant rope. Your girlfriend will love it."

Later that night, I used Brian's technique with my girlfriend. We fucked all night. It was my second best night of sex ever, only to be surpassed by that one special night with Blossom.

Thank God for poker night.

Though much older, or perhaps because he wore the tinted glasses that reminded her of her own noncustodial father figure, she relished his words: 'You are a budding rose, and will one day bloom into a very special blossom.' She imagined days at the pool, spent shaving her sisters' legs and backs, and a beautiful blond-haired boy whose gaze would turn her into putty. And he sealed the deal with his now drunken plaint of, "You're no bunny, unleth thome bunny loveth you."

Look at all the people! Hi guys! This is great. I can't believe how happy reading these made me. Am I easy to please, or what? Ex-boyfriends need not respond to that.

I am going to have to make an entry compiling these and stuff...

I love them!