Melvin the Jerk- Chapter Three: Melvin Vs. the Music Industry

Melvin vs. Wait a second! The episode, chapter, whatever; needs an introduction. There's a girl by the name of Mary Elizabeth Carter. She's basically the coolest girl in the world. Most of my writing inspiration stems from her just existing. She's a pretty big fan of Kevin Smith style work, and if not for her taste in humor, Melvin the Jerk wouldn't exist. And since she's a music person, (she's a DJ and a damned good one!) I thought it would only be fair to let her receive due recognition in this episode that we're going to call:

Melvin vs. the Music Industry

By VXGrifter

Sun. Oct. 27th 1:21 a.m.
Melvin's bed room
Coneco, CA.

"Power, fame, prestige! All mine for the taking! The world is my lobster!"

"For the love of Pete, would you go to sleep already?" Melvin's dad shouted from down the hall.

"Sorry!"

Sun. Oct. 27th 2:26 a.m.
Inside Melvin's head
Coneco, CA.

A tall black man entered the diner with an air of confidence. He wore a dark orange leisure suit on his muscular frame and a scowl on his face. Time stopped briefly while he ran his fingers through his large bushy sideburns, then returned to normal and found that man standing at a table full of college kids. "You Arnold?" He gruffly asked the curious blond haired kid.

"Yeah, I'm him. Who's asking?"

Suddenly he pulled out a large caliber handgun and pointed it at the youth. "My name's Melvin Mother fucker! Eziekel 25:29 says…"

"Ape shall not kill ape!"

Confused, he turned around and found himself face to face with a familiar face. "Dr. Zaius!" He exclaimed. "And Tara?"

He was sitting at a table with Tara and Dr. Zaius was dressed like Buddy Holly. She was wearing a cheap black wig and a tight black dress. She had a very serious look about her and looked Melvin straight in the eye. "I believe Charlie Swanson; my husband, your boss, told you to take me out and do what I want to do. Now I want to get up there, I want to dance, I want to win that trophy."

As soon as those words left her mouth all the apes began to dance and Dr. Zaius grabbed him by the shoulders. "Get your damned stinkin' filthy paws offa me ya dirty ape!" Melvin shouted.

Sun. Oct. 27th 9:07 a.m.
Melvin's bedroom
Coneco, CA.

"Melvin! Wake up!" His father shouted at him, shaking him by the shoulders.

"Do I look like a bitch? Then why you trying to fuck me like one?" Melvin suddenly yelled in his sleep.

"What the hell?" Melvin's father yelled.

"Huh?" Melvin said opening his eyes.

"Were you watching Pulp Fiction before bed again?"

"No, CNN. A Charlton Heston NRA speech. That's one cool cat. Why are you waking me up this early?"

"There's someone here to see you."

"The Gestapo? They're the only ones that would be cruel enough to get me up this early." He said rubbing his eyes.

"Just get downstairs so I don't have to hear it anymore, all right? And there's breakfast if you're hungry."

Sun. Oct. 27th 9:15 a.m.
Melvin's living room
Coneco, CA.

"…And I'm not the only one either! I have a list of girls just like myself that your son has just used for sex and then left! It isn't right Mr. Bradley! And we both know it!" A teary girl ranted at Melvin's father as he slightly nodded his head.

"Well, on the upshot, at least my son got lucky with such a beautiful young woman. Now we're certain he's not gay!" He said with a fatherly smile as he touched her knee.

"Are you coming on to me?" She asked with disgust.

Melvin's father quickly withdrew his hand and sat up straight. "Oh! Oh no, not at all, I was just trying to make you feel better about being used for your body!"

The girl gasped in obvious anger. Melvins father frantically searched his mind for away to correct his blunder. "Umm…what I meant to say was…uh…you were wronged! Yes, there it is! You were wronged and you can guarantee he'll be punished!"

"Dad! Quit leaving your porn in the bathroom! It's really creeping me out!" Melvin called from upstairs.

"Now we all know where he gets it from!" The girl yelled as she grabbed her purse and started for the door. "Tell Melvin I'll call him. That is, if he doesn't mind picking up the phone when you get through with those 900 numbers you probably hide from your wife!"

About two minutes later, Melvin came downstairs in a bathrobe brushing his teeth. "So who's here?" Melvin asked moving the toothbrush to the other side of his mouth.

"A friend of yours from school was here. Said she had sex with you and then got really mad. Is that true?"

"Could be. I'm seventeen, Dad. I'm not exactly a virgin anymore. Your little boy is all grown up."

"Well when did all this happen exactly?" His father asked him pouring him a glass of orange juice.

"Jesus, Dad! That's personal! I don't ask where you even find copies of 'Hairy Foxes'! You know that magazine was cancelled in 1973. I'm pretty sure most of those chicks are rapidly approaching convalescent age."

"Son, I was their age when that magazine came out!"

"Oh." Melvin said meekly as he rinsed and spit into the sink.

"Here, have some orange juice." He said handing him a glass.

"Thanks." Melvin said as he raised the glass to his lips. A second later he spit it out into the sink. "Fuck!" He said wiping his mouth. "Damn, I need to quit falling for that!" He said as his Father laughed at him.

Sun. Oct. 27th 11:45 a.m.
W. Hallensworth Ave.
Coneco, CA.

Melvin made his way up the steep driveway to the garage where he practiced with his band, 5-pin. He couldn't really play an instrument, so he sang. He didn't even do that really all that well, but these were his friends, and since they've tolerated his presence in the band for so long, It's about time he did something right for them. He was going to take his prize money and make sure his band got good equipment and some decent recording, maybe then they would all get recognized.

"Guys, this bitch has some great news!" He shouted as he burst through the side door and found the band sitting down waiting for him.

"So do we!" Doug the Bassist shouted. "You're out of the band!"

Melvin paused for a second and looked at the faces of everyone staring at him. "What?"

"That's right," Doug said. "We voted and the majority says you're out of the band."

"The majority? That means one of you voted to keep me?"

The band all looked at each other for a second and then replied to him. "Actually we all voted to kick you out of the band. We were just kind of hoping that you wouldn't press the issue of who wanted you out of the band and then you'd be left with the illusion that at least one of us still liked you."

Melvin's head was reeling. "Wait a damned second," He said trying to put things into perspective. "Why am I out of the band exactly?"

"Seems you been getting laid brother," Doug said rising to his feet. "A lot. We had one girl in particular come here and say that if we didn't kick you out, her and a whole list of other girls were going to make things very tough for us. It was straight out of the Mother fucking Godfather Man!"

"Oh this is fucking great! I can't fuckin believe this! You're all kicking me out of the band because you can't get chicks?" Melvin yelled.

"Actually, I get guys!" David the Drummer commented from the back. Everyone stared blankly at him. "Wait, you guys didn't know?"

"No!" Melvin said in disbelief.

"That's not important right now," Doug started.

"Yes it is! He used to crash at my house every night! He slept in his boxer briefs on my fl…Now it all makes sense! Boxer briefs!"

"The point is Melvin," Doug continued. "You're out. Plain and simple."

"You can't kick out the singer! Look what happened when STP did that to Scott Weiland!"

No one said anything.

"Aw, fuck it!" Melvin said trampling out the door.

Sun. Oct. 27th, The Afternoon.
Melvin's search for a new band
Various cities in Ca.

Phantom Planet: "Sorry guy, but we already have like 3 singers!" "So you probably won't mind a fourth!" "But we're professionals. We had one guy in a movie with Bill Murray, and two guys in a gap commercials. Have you done anything famous?" "Screw you guys, frickin hippie crack bitches…"

Teen Heroes: "…So you see Pete, that's why I want to be a Teen Hero." "You've gotta be kidding, right?" "Hmm…no. Not really. Those are pretty much my reasons." "You've gotta be sick! I could have you jailed for those reasons! You're damned lucky I don't have Jeremiah beat you over the head with a high hat stand! Get the hell out of my sight or I'll end your baby making ways here and now! Fucking pervert!"

Red 5: "Sorry, but you aren't a girl Melvin. Though that bra IS attractive…"

Ridel High: "We're not a band anymore I tell you! We're called The Lost and Found now! Now can I please have my sandwich back?" "No!"

Acme Pop: "Dude, we're all about the pink, believe me. But you sound like you might have some sort of chemical imbalance. I'm getting that vibe like maybe you need counseling. Sorry brother."

Nerf Herder: "So Melvin, that's five games straight you finished dead last! But at least you don't think you're too cool for bowling. Now we don't need a singer, but a bass player maybe." "Who was your last bass player?" "Charlie. No, Dave, No wait it was…" "Thanks anyway guys."

The Junior Maxwell's: "Sure, sounds good. Welcome to the band!" "You mean it?" "Sure, oh hey! Here's Pat's Dad!" "That's Pat's Dad?!?" "Yeah, we're getting ready to record right now." "Umm…I'd like to stay but…uhh…I wouldn't."

Sun. Oct. 27th, 7:24 p.m.
Pam's Bar and Bowling
Conceco, Ca.

"Jesus! I'm never going to get a new band!" Melvin whined as Tara stared intently at a pinball machine. "I asked everyone but the Pizzicato Five! I mean, I would've, but they probably wouldn't have understood me."

"Aren't they Japanese?" Tara asked absently.

"That is probably what I meant by they wouldn't have understood me." Melvin said with a sigh, sitting on the ground next to the pinball machine. "Are you done with that game yet? Our number is going to be called soon."

"Nope, just scored another free game." She said still staring at the game. Melvin resisted the urge to make a joke about how much attention she paid to hard balls.

"You know, you're really good at that. What's next? Bending spoons with your thoughts?"

"They used to have one of these in the hospital I stayed at. It was either pinball or I got to sit in the reading group and explore the miracle of William Shatner's 'Tek Wars'." She said shaking the machine. Melvin shuddered. "Exactly," Tara said. "I got really good at pinball."

A second later, the intercom came to life. "Ron, party of three." "That's us," Melvin said. "I'll get our shoes and lane. You grab Ron."

Melvin approached the booth to find a heavyset man with a brownish-red moustache waiting for him. "You Ron?" He said half asleep.

"No, I'm Melvin, Ron's coming in a second. Where's Pam?"

"She's taking the night off tonight. You're sharing lane fifteen with a guy named Greg. What are your shoe sizes?"

"Eleven, Ten and a half, and seven. What do mean we're sharing a lane?"

"Busy night. You need to share a lane, the guy came alone."

"Pam never makes us share lanes!"

"Do I look like a Fifty year old woman with 5 kids?"

"Yeah."

"Well, tough. You're sharing a lane. Linda, party of two."

"They only have two people! Make them share Greg!"

"I would've considered it if you hadn't called me a fifty year old chain smoking woman. Your shoe sizes?"

"Six and thirteen." Came the response from a woman standing behind Melvin.

"Pam would kick your ass if she heard you talking that way about her!" Melvin shouted.

"Then tell her. I got bowlers to help. You want your shoes?"

Melvin angrily grabbed the shoes and gave the guy a dirty look. The man waved him a quick good-bye as he stormed away from there.

He found Ron and Tara walking towards him as he started for the arcade section. "We all set?" Ron asked grabbing his shoes from Melvin. "Yeah, lane fifteen," He replied. "But we need to share the lane with some guy named Greg."

"What? Why? Who's Greg?" Ron asked.

"My guess is the guy at lane fifteen. Now let's go bowling before the disco music starts."

Lane fifteen found the trio face to face with an unusually large red headed Irish kid wearing a FUBU jersey that looked as if it had to be specially made to fit a man of his size. No one even knew where to begin. Finally, Tara had the courage to speak first. "Are you Greg?"

The large young man grunted and then turned in his seat. "Nah Nah Nah, junk that noise yo! This here's lil pyre, G!"

"And they call you pyre because of your red hair?" Melvin inquired.

"They call me pyre cause I'll light a fire under that ass!"

"All right. Now why do they call you little?"

"Shit bitch, I'll kick your fuckin ass!" He said trying to stand up. Finally, when his face became as red as his hair, He collapsed back into seat. "Damn, yo. These chairs sure do sink in, don't they?"

"They sure do," Melvin said with a smile. "Plastic is known for sinking in. Now, does lil pyre like bowling?"

Sun. Oct. 27th, 8:05 p.m.
Pam's Bar and Bowling
Conceco, Ca.

Melvin was not only known for his patience. Between The Ohio Players, the countless jocks, the scent, and the fact he should've taken his turn ten minutes ago, things were beginning to get to him. He didn't mind the environment, or even the smell. He was here every week, so that couldn't be it. It was Greg. It was Greg's turn and Greg wasn't going. Instead, Greg was speaking of accounts involving him and imaginary women. Damned Greg! Burn in hell Greg! Greg Greg Greg Greg! AHHHH!

"So there I am yo, just grindin' away on this bitch, and out of now where, for reals yo! She calls me Daddy! That shit was fucked up yo!"

"Hey Ron," Melvin interrupted. "Quit humoring him so he'll leave you alone and bowl. You can hear the fat fucks imaginary tale of lust anytime!"

Melvin was just a little too close to him when he said that, and realized it the moment he felt a sweaty paw grip him by the shirt. "Somethin' you wanna say to me yo?"

Gritted his teeth and responded. "Yeah, you might be able to kick my ass, but that won't change the fact you didn't go to prom because you're fat!"

"What the hell?"

"You heard me! You didn't go to prom, you get turned away from amusement park rides, Parents won't let you baby sit their kids, and talk show hosts are always trying to get you on their shows because you're FAT! Fuck man, about the only thing you can do well is probably throw that stupid little ball down the lane, and you can't even do that well! Being fat has really fucked up your life, so you counter for it by dressing like an MTV gangster and make up stupid assed tales that don't even closely resemble truth! 'Lil Pyre'! Who the fuck calls you that? You dumb bastard, look around you! You're not in the hood! You're in Orange County for Christ sakes! A nice suburban part of Orange County too! Now tell me I'm wrong you sweaty bitch, and maybe I'll buy you the Klondike bar that finally puts that over worked heart of yours over the edge!"

Everyone in the vicinity of the unfolding spectacle stopped bowling and turned to find out what was going to happen next. Only the soothing sounds of Aretha Franklin could be heard. The look on Greg's face went from angry, to angrier, to downright pissed. Finally, when it seemed the tension would be so thick you could feel it; Greg let Melvin go. And began bawling like a schoolgirl.

"I don't mean to be fat," He began as the tears flowed "I…I just don't have a lot of friends! And eating makes me feel control over my life!"

"Jeez Melvin! Are you really that heartless?" Ron asked as Tara put her arm around his shoulder.

"Nice going Melvin!" "Yeah, way to go!" Two tall thin twin girls commented in disgust.

"I'm going to the bar." Melvin said with defeat as he turned and walked away.

Sun. Oct. 27th, 8:23 p.m.
Pam's Bar and Bowling
Conceco, Ca.

"Hey everybody look! It's Melvin!" "Hey Melvin!" A small group of forty something year old men in bowling shirts said as Melvin walked in.

"Hey guys, what's going on?"

"Lady, get this man a drink! He's 21, he's with me!"

Sun. Oct. 27th, 8:43 p.m.
Pam's Bar and Bowling
Conceco, Ca.

"I love pie! Pie for fucking everyone!" Melvin shouted downing another shot of vodka and then chasing it with a shot of Donald Duck orange juice.

"No more for you pal."

Mon. Oct. 28th, 8:11 a.m.
W. Vreeland ave.
Conceco, Ca.

As Melvin made his away across the street bound for school, his mind was still spinning from the hangover that plagued him most Mondays. Suddenly, something caught his eye. "Holy shit! Are those Robotech comic books?" He yelled to himself as he ran for the middle of the street.

From behind the wheel of an '84 Rabbit, an emotionally frayed young woman wiped some tears from her eyes and prepared to gun the gas. "I loved you!" She bawled as she left a small patch of rubber where her tires once were.

"I can't believe these would just be in the middle of the street! Wait, what's that noise?" he said looking up to see the small car speeding towards him. "Huh?" Was all he get out just before his body flipped over the hood of the car.

What the hell just happened? Is Melvin Dead? No, Probably not, I like writing this story. But he was hit by a car. Hmm… what could it all mean!?! I certainly hope he's not dead! Oh man! I better get cracking on the next chapter quick!!!

VXGrifter