The Grifters

Snakey and Dumb sat across from each other at a table while they brainstormed their next grift. A fly buzzed around both their heads going back and forth in a manner that suggested it was confused as to which was the better hunk of shit. “Fuck me dead, Dumb. Time to put on the old grift hats,” said Snakey.

“Shit, yeah, said Dumb. They both pulled out hats made from newspapers from their respective briefcases. Snakey preferred the sports section while Dumb used the funny page. “Right, we’ve made good money on our grifting to date,” said Snakey.

“Shit yeah,”‘said Dumb.

“We’ve sold courses on fitness, dropshitting, but now I’m out of ideas, Dumb,” said Snakey.

“Pussy,” said Dumb.

“You calling me a pussy?” said Snakey.

“No,” said Dumb. Snakey scratched a growth that had popped up on his nose three weeks prior. It started to bleed.

“What do you mean by pussy?” said Snakey.

“Course.”

“A course on pussy?”

“Yes.”

“I dunno, Dumb. Sounds like a biology textbook,” said Snakey.

“NO! A COURSE ON HOW TO GET PUSSY YOU DIPSHIT!” said Dumb.

“Oh, right. Excellent idea,” said Snakey and he went to work planning out a twelve week course on how to get pussy.

Fourteen hours later, Snakey and Dumb had completed the Pussy Power Seduction Method course. After briefly high fiving each other and themselves, they started discussing the financials by running the numbers. “Let’s make out there’s a shortage of pussy. That’ll give us some leverage to jack the price up. I was thinking about $567.98. What do you reckon, Dumb?”

“Shit, yeah,” said Dumb.

“Great. Well I may as well go through the chapters of the course,” said Snakey.

“Shit, yeah,” said Dumb.

“Chapter 1. Pussy theory.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 2. Pussy locations.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 3. Pussy apps.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 4. Cold showers.”

“Shit yeah.”

“Chapter 5. Talking to Pussy.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 6. Nootropics.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 7. Pussy approaches.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 8. Old pussy.”

“Huh?”

“Have to diversify the customer base, Dumb.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 9. Eating Pussy.”

“Ewww.”

“Chapter 10. Lifting.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 11. Crazy Pussy.”

“Shit, yeah.”

“Chapter 12. Final thoughts.”

“Fuck, yeah,” said Dumb with rare enthusiasm. After running a quick spell check and doing the course themselves, Snakey and Dumb uploaded it to a site that would enable them to rip off unsuspecting losers who couldn’t get laid. Now all they had to do was sit back and watch the money roll in.

Three weeks later, Snakey and Dumb bought a Maserati. They had received numerous death threats about the course, but the five star reviews they had paid for counterbalanced the uproar received from customers with regards to the course’s quality. One customer was now in jail awaiting a court date on a rape charge and another had lost his job for attempting to implement what he had learnt at work. None of this bothered Snakey and Dumb. The Maserati drove well and they paid cash. “I think this is it, Dumb. I think we’ve finally made it this time,” said Snakey.

“Shit, yeah,” said Dumb.

“I mean, the course on dropshitting was good, but this one is next level shit,” said Snakey. They drove towards home with the top down and Leo Sayer’s greatest hits thumping on the stereo. Dumb sung along and everyone they drove past stared at them.

They arrived home to flames. A group of agitated men with pitchforks stood around and watched the fire spread like a virus over the entire house and surrounding trees. One guy was cooking marshmallows closer to the inferno. Snakey got out of the car and Dumb wasn’t far behind. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” said Snakey.

“SHIT, YEAH,” said Dumb.

“Oh, the cunts that live here sold a course online that doesn’t work,” said a guy.

“MONGRELS! HOW DID YOU FIND THEM?” said Snakey.

“Oh, their address was on the course documents,” said the guy.

“FUCK!” said Snakey. The roof started to collapse and the guy roasting marshmallows ran back to the main group. “You boys hungry?” said the marshmallow guy.

“Shit, yeah,” said Dumb.

“Oh, we were just leaving,” said Snakey.

“Why?” said marshmallow guy.

“Why not?” said Snakey.

“Well, only someone with something to hide would run away from a vigilante house fire,” said the marshmallow guy.

“That’s not true. I have an appointment,” said Snakey.

“BULLSHIT! YOU FUCKING COURSE GRIFTERS!!” said the marshmallow guy and the entire crowd turned away from the fire like guard dogs that had heard a noise in the dark. Snakey and Dumb tried to back away, but the crowd of ripped off virgins was having none of it. “Let’s hurl them into the fire!” said one toothless soul.

“Let’s hack them to pieces first!” said another lunatic who had been blinded by his horniness. The horny and furious virgins then moved as one. It was as if they had connected telepathically and in silence they picked Snakey and Dumb up, held them both over their heads and gently walked towards the inferno of the fire. Effeminate screams of terror billowed out of both Snakey and Dumb in a stilted and retarded manner. They were both tossed into the fire like logs of timber and they both burnt up just as quickly. Their screams were drowned out by the cheers of the crowd of sexless misfits that were still lingering around the house. As the flames reached into the sky, the stench of burning flesh reached everyone’s nostrils. They all backed away. “So what do we do now?” said a virgin.

“Well, I feel that justice has been served,” said a bald victim.

“I guess we could look for another course,” said the marshmallow guy.

“Sounds like a great plan,” said the toothless guy and loud cheer roared out from the remaining guys. They then marched as a pack down the street and into the night. When they had faded away to a faint rumble in the distance, Snakey and Dumb were nothing more than charred skin and bone. Their remains rested in the flames like black lumps of shit.

4 thoughts on “The Grifters

  1. Good read.
    I enjoy the humor in this piece a lot, but you also touch on something more important: despite the fact that we can purchase wholesale almost any product, no “life coach” will sell you something that can turn you into a man. There are still valuable commodities that can only be bought through hard work and discipline.
    Someone should write a course on that

    Liked by 1 person

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