Rating: 18- mostly because of the drinking... want to be on the safe side.
Disclaimer: Oh no, I own nada. Zip. Nothing.
Spoilers: Hardly any. Actually nothing big.
Summary: 20 minutes with Forrest. Forrest is asked a question. By Duffman. X-over w/ Simpsons.
A/N: I might do more X-overs with Simpsons. There are so many characters to choose from. Next up? Comic Book Guy. *Worst Fic Ever* Stole the last line from the actual show.
Normally, I never drink. Drinking alcohol is a form of weakness. You shouldn’t drink your problems away. Instead you should face them, head on.
Drinking can be fun though. When you are sitting there with friends, talking about sports and chicks. Riley doesn’t talk about chicks though. He’s only thinking about one. I think her name begins with a B. Talking to him nowadays is kind of boring. I think he needs to get his groove on and come back to reality. The reality of it is that chicks come and they go. Friends are together forever. Riley is a brother to me. And I bet I’m a brother to him.
Tonight it’s just me, Graham and some other guys at the Bronze. We were sitting and drinking after playing a round of pool. No women were around. No Riley, he’s going to meet us here. Or he was supposed to. Two hours ago.
“Enjoying that drink?” Graham asked, pointing to the Duff beer I haven’t touched.
“Nothing wrong with the beer it’s just that-”
Suddenly there was loud music and colorful lights.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, looking at the group of people at the my table.
They all shrugged.
Then a man with sunglasses and spandex ran up to me. He was wearing red and blue and had a cape. In big, bold letters DUFF was on the front of his shirt. He looked like a rejected super-hero. Althouth a lot of beautiful women were following him.
The super-hero came to my table and looked at me. When he spoke his voice was loud and annoying. It sounded like a cheesy commercial.
“Duffman has a question for the lucky dude in the dark clothes,” he pointed at me.
Hey, so this is the beer mascot. Ha! I got to meet him before Riley. Poor loser.
“Well go on,” I challenged. People were crowding around us.
“If you answer Duffman’s question correctly you and your group will win a lifetime supply of Duff!” The mascot grinned at us.
“Where is the Duff Brewery located?”
I looked at my companions. All of them had a blank expression on their faces.
“Chicago?” I answered, hopefully.
“Oh yeah!” Everyone cheered.
“Wait, I mean, oh no! That was not the correct answer. No free beer for you,” the beer mascot said pitifully.
Everyone was booing me. Graham’s face turned red from embarrassment. Riley still wasn’t here.
“Cheer up crazy, party kid! There’s always next time. Oh yeah!”
“Go die,” I muttered, resting my chin on my hand, staring at the clock. Where in the hell was Riley?
“Duffman can never die, only the actors who play him.” With that he left. And so did the women. Tonight was not my night.