Alright, now when I was a kid,
there was nothing like a good old-fashioned school fundraiser.
I don't know if things have changed these days,
but back in my day they would just herd of all of us kids into the auditorium,
and we'd be sitting there totally clueless.
"What the hell is going on? Is it the Russians?"
"Are the Russians attacking?!"
"All right class, today we're gonna have a guest speaker here
to talk to you about a school fundraiser."
And these guest speakers had one goal in mind,
and that was to get all of us kids as hyped as possible
so we'd go out and sell as much shit as possible.
And for the most part it worked.
There'd be this dude up there with a boombox, all amped up,
like he just did a couple of ripper magoos in the bathroom.
"You guys ready to sell some candy bars?!"
"Yeah!"
"Y'all ready to get exploited for some cash?!"
"Hell yeah!"
And of course, the school fundraiser is nothing
without all the shitty prizes that you can win.
The more candy bars you sell - the more bullshit that you receive.
"That's right, if you sell over 700 candy bars,
you'll win this sweet, sweet, Tony Danza Slap bracelet!"
"Oh yeah, I don't know who the fuck Tony Danza is,
but I gotta have that slap bracelet!"
And then there'd always be like the most ridiculous grand prize
for whoever sold the most candy bars.
"And whoever sells the most candy bars,
they will get the super-duper Grand Prize,
the state of New Mexico!"
(Kids go wild) "YEEEEEEEEEAAAAHHHH!"
So we get out of school for the day,
and we're all amped up with our little stupid suitcases filled with candy bars.
"Nobody's gonna outsell me!"
"That state of New Mexico is as good as mine."
You get home and you immediately corner your parents,
"Hey, Dad! How about you go ahead and buy yourself some of these here candy bars?"
"Uh, how about you go ahead and go fuck yourself instead, how about that?"
"You need to get your ass out there and go door to door
and put your life on the line like all the other kids."
So me and my dumbass friends venture out into our neighborhood,
trying to sell as many candy bars as possible.
The only problem was that these candy bars were generic as hell.
I mean, it just said, "Candy Bar" on the wrapper and shit.
They're super bland, they taste like a goddamn alarm clock.
Who the hell is gonna buy these things?
(Door bell rings)
"Hey, you want to buy some candy bars for our school fundraiser?"
"Uh, kid, I've eaten assholes that taste better than those goddamn candy bars."
"No, thanks!" (Door slams)
(Door bell rings)
"Candy bars for sale, would you like to buy one?"
"Hey honey, you wanna buy some bullshit from these dirty little kids?"
(Harsh voice) "Uh... no."
"Nope, not interested."
(Door slams)
(Door bell rings)
"Hello sir, would you like to buy a candy bar for a good cause?"
"I got a type 2 diabetes, you little shit!"
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"You can shove those candy bars up your little 3rd grade asses!"
(Door slams)
All right, so clearly this was gonna be a lot harder than we initially thought.
So what do we decide to do?
Well, we decide to start lying to people.
You know, try to guilt them into buying these goddamn candy bars.
"Hi, my dog has rickets,
and we're selling candy bars to help raise money for him."
"Oh my God, your dog has rickets?!"
"How awful!"
"Honey, go get your check book!"
"This dirty little boy's dog has rickets!"
And being the dumbass little kids that we were,
we'd go to every house on the block.
We didn't care who it was.
"Uh, I think we should skip this house,
it says 'no soliciting' right there."
"Oh no, they're talking about hookers!"
My stepdad says that's what soliciting means.
(Hitting the door bell)
"Hey, assholes!"
"The sign says 'No solicitors'!"
"Is he calling us hookers?"
"Hey you dirty old man, I'm not a hooker!"
"I'm trying to raise money for the penguins in Puerto Rico!"
"The penguins in Puerto Rico?!"
"Oh, well, hell, you should've said that to begin with!"
"Let me find my check book!"
Hell, we'd be so desperate to make a sale,
we'd even go to the creepy old guy's house on the end of the block.
"Uh yeah, I don't know about this."
"My dad said this guy is not allowed to go within 300 yards of a Chuck E. Cheese."
"Ah, to hell with that, I need to get that Tony Danza Slap bracelet!"
(Door bell rings)
"Yeah, what do you kids want?"
"Hi, I'm raising money for my stepdad's hysterectomy,
can you buy a candy bar?"
"I'll buy whatever you want me to,
if you come inside and play 'Hide the Banana'."
"Yeah... no, thank you."
"I'm not solicitating right now."
"You guys wanna come inside and eat Hot Pockets
and watch me clip my toe nails?"
"Uh, all right, let's get the fuck out of here."
"Hey, where are you guys going?!"
"You guys should come into my backyard
and see if you can fit in this hole that I just dug."
So after a few weeks of selling these crappy candy bars,
we finally get our shitty prizes that we worked so hard for.
"Wow, that was totally not worth it!"
"Yeah, and I still don't know who the fuck Tony Danza is."
But the worst part of it all
had to be that the kid, that sold the most candy bars in my class,
didn't do a goddamn thing.
He didn't scour his neighborhood and dodge pedophiles left and right, no!
He just had his parents take his candy bars to their work.
And they sold them all for him!
So we busted our ass for these stupid Tony Danza Slap bracelets,
and this asshole wins the state of New Mexico.
God
God damn it!
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