How Chaz Became a Stupid Dumbass Motherf***er

Chaz was a stupid dumbass. He sat all day long in the living room of his one bedroom apartment in his dumb, plaid lazy boy with the holes worn through the armrest upholstery. He stared alternately between the holes in his drywall, the beer bottles stuffed with cigarette butts on his cracked coffee table, and stupid programs on his TV thinking about ways in which he could be an ass. He thought about tripping the old ladies with bad hips on the landings in the stairwells. He thought about going to concerts with steel toed boots on to break people's shins in the mosh pits. He thought about stealing all the toilet paper and toilet seats out of public restrooms.

It is important to remember that at this point Chaz was only a stupid dumbass, and, although he had already started down this path and didn't yet know it, he was on his way to becoming a motherf***er. Now, a motherf***er literally is someone who f***s mothers, and therefore becomes a destructive instrument towards families, leaving entire households torn apart and children traumatized. Chaz had indeed f***ed mothers in the past and tore apart households leaving children traumatized, but that is not the type of motherf***er we are concerned with here.

The type of motherf***er we are concerning with is someone who willfully commits acts just as destructive as a literal motherf***er but leaves out the actual f***ing of the mothers. This is why it is equally important to remember that Chaz WAS already a stupid dumbass because it takes an ass who is both dumb and stupid (there's a compounding effect going on here) to become a motherf***er of any kind, but particularly the type of motherf***er who can be considered a motherf***er without actually f***ing mothers.

So one day Chaz was sitting in his recliner staring at a urine stain he had left in his carpet during a night of stupid drunkeness feeling himself grow dumber as he drank beer mixed with vodka when he noticed that the wind and rain were picking up outside to the point where branches were ripping off trees and blowing through car windows and those blue post office mailboxes were sailing through the air to crash against houses in an explosion of letters. Seeing the destruction outside, knowing it would only get worse, Chaz decided that it was his chance to really be an ass instead of just thinking about it, so he grabbed his assault rifle and headed out into the street of New Orleans. What Chaz didn't realize was that one becomes an ass not through action but thinking and that his decision to leave his house fully armed was already bordering on making him a metaphorical motherf***er.

Chaz walked several blocks until he found a high building with no other high buildings around it and he went through the doorway which the storm had already broken. He made his way up to the top of the stairwell and camped out on the landing, all the while wishing that some old lady with a bad hip would come up the stairs carrying food and water so that he could trip her and steal her food and water. As the storm howled on around him, he smiled to himself thinking, "this is it. Now I can be an ass." Of course, we all know what he was really doing.

When the winds had slowed and an eerie quiet filled the city along with flood waters from the broken levees, Chaz knew his time had come. He got up on the roof and looked out over the edge, tracking the sights of his assault rifle along the street below. People straggled in and out of collapsing houses holding their pets and their hand bags, looking around as if they'd been hit by bricks. When they first shot fired and missed, ricocheting off a car bumper, the people ducked. The second shot sent them fleeing back into their houses.

Chaz had become a motherf***er and he felt the surge of power that motherf***ers feel, the surge of power that makes them think what they are doing is a good thing.

In the distance, Chaz heard the thud of air blowing from the blades of a helicopter and he figured that his ultimate target had come. He drew bead and fired. Like most motherf***ers he was a horrible shot though and his bullets hit nothing but air and did little but get the attention of the helicopter.

Poor, stupid, dumbassed, Motherf***ing Chaz.

The helicopter swooped in low, the anger clear through the windshield on the faces of the pilot, etched on the faces of the crew leaning out the open side hatches. The blades of the helicopter tilted as the craft neared Chaz, and Chaz fired his rifle wildly in the air as the whirring frenzy tore him into thousands of pieces like the confetti they throw in Mardi Gras.