Proud Member Of

P-Boi Dog Show
Wish us luck


Written by Nick on December 2nd- 2003

Hello, friends. I want to use this week's spot to inform you of a promotion we at Pb have run. Well we've been trying very hard to get the word on P-boi out to the national public, but no one seems to read sandwich boards anymore. It just isn't fair.

As I'm sure many of you have noticed, the National Dog Show has grown with increasing popularity with each passing year, the past two years claiming a thrown on the coveted Thanksgiving day spot, following the Macy's Day Parade. What better place to inform the general public of our hellacool website? Well wouldn't you know it, all six of our dogs made it to the final showdown! It was really exciting, I'll sum it up for you guys:

THE DOGS:

B's dog "Kiro Mitu"

Emily's dog "Mush Puddle"

Jon's dog "Sparky"

Justin's Dog "Hemorrhoid"

Ultimo Dragon's dog "GAH-YUKIT!" and friends

And my dog "Cool Moe D"

So we packed up our puppies and were off to the big show. Unfortunately on the way to the show Ultimo Dragon stir-fried his dog and we were forced to kick him out of the van for fear of our own dogs' lives. We kept the grill. And the puppy meat.

We finally arrived in Philadelphia just in time for registration, which was a hell of an ordeal because Cool Moe D wouldn't listen. He just wanted to lie in the sun. Jon tried to coerce him towards the line, but I stopped him. "Let him do his thing," I said, "He'll work it out". Jon, a little confused at first, came to terms with what I had said, realizing that Cool Moe D was just appreciating the small gems of life. He nodded affirmatively and got back into line to register his gravy boat.

Well it was the day before Thanksgiving and we were all very excited for the next day. "I wonder if any of us will win," B said, "It'd be really cool". "Yeah," Emily added, "We should spray paint a 'Pb' on the back of our shirts." I then noticed that B was inhaling the can of spray paint I had brought. He still owes me $2.99.

The Progressive Boink Crew spent that night telling stories, drinking cherry coke, and listening to the radio in our hotel room. Hootie and the Blowfish's "Let Her Be" came on, and we all began to sing along. We were all singing and having a good time until Justin decided to obnoxiously sing "Letter B" while nudging B with his elbow. B punched a hole through Justin's chest.

We all slept pretty well that night, but the next morning was a bear! There were five (5) of us and only one (1) bathroom! Being the gentleman I am, I stepped aside to let Emily in first. "What'd ya do that for!?" yelled Jon, "She'll be in there for hours!" I put my index finger perpendicular to my lips, signaling him to be quiet.

"Let's Hope"

After we all washed up we went out to breakfast. Our dogs received free dog food thanks to the kind people at Purina. They were sponsoring this year's dog show, and were nice enough to allow us to sample their product. We even saw the President at the breakfast; I guess he was in town to see the dogs. B almost got us kicked out for putting him in a dragon sleeper, though.

Soon enough it was time to shine! B was first to go and thought it would be cool to show the judges some of the wrestling moves he taught Kiro Mitu. The judges were appalled at the fact that Kiro had just decapitated 1/3 of the other contenders. He was disqualified immediately.

Next I was up. I nudged Cool Moe up to the judges as best I could. "Where's his leash?", the first woman asked. "Leash? Cool Moe D knows no bounds," I replied as I muttered the German attack phrase, "Achtun-sheiz". Cool Moe didn't move, I forgot that he neither knew German or how to attack somebody. I received last place.

Jon was next in line. He poured a bunch of gravy on the judge's table, smiled, and left. I gave him a dollar for fulfilling our bet. "Told you I'd do it," he bragged. He was awarded "Best in Breed" and received a copy of "Finding Nemo" on dvd.

Justin's turn came up, and he was really nervous. "Wish me luck," he said, as he pulled his doggie mask over his face. He crawled on all fours to the judge's table as he recited his lines: "Woof woof woof woof". The judge closest to him set him on fire, rightfully so.

Emily was our last hope. She approached the Judge's table with Mushy under her arm. "Sit". He sat. "Stay". He stayed. We looked on eagerly as dreams of a nation joined by Progressive Boink drifted through our heads. "Come". He stood up and trotted towards Emily. I refuse to make a joke out of that. And so ended her dog's performance. The judge's congregated and then broke up, ready with their decision.

"You lose," they told us. "What!?" we all shouted. "I said 'You lose'," he reiterated. "Why? Her dog was perfect, it even resisted the obvious 'come' joke," Jon questioned.

"You see, we have read your web site, and frankly, we're threatened," the female judge explained. "If we were to allow you to spread word of this 'Progressive Boink' we'd be committing cultural suicide. Your jibes on pop-culture seem unmatched, and an outbreak of such sources would surely lead to the downfall of cheap entertainment as we know it."

"Your point?" Emily stated angrily, gently petting Mush Puddle.

"We like things the way they are, and we won't allow you to screw them up. Get lost, losers."

We walked back to our hotel room, the judges' laughter ringing in our heads. It just wasn't fair. Emily's dog was fly, but since she was part of the destructive P-boi force she wasn't allowed her fair chance.

We apologized to Emily, knowing this was probably her only chance at winning The National Dog Show. She said it was all right, that she didn't want that stupid trophy anyway. Mush Puddle barked. "I guess he agrees!" I spouted, laughing. No one else laughed and B pushed me into a puddle.

That night we ate Oreos and watched "Finding Nemo".

The End.

Well, our adventure at the National Dog Show had ended, and we had missed Thanksgiving for nothing, so we all decided to have our very own Thanksgiving the next day, Black Friday.

The day after Thanksgiving is referred to as Black Friday because that is the day when god spreads a plague over every retail store in the United States. Thirty year-old women with coupons.

We decided to wait out the storm in Justin's apartment, where we would indulge upon a delicious turkey. Unfortunately Justin forgot to take the turkey out of the icebox and it was completely frozen through. We dined upon Eggos and Ginger Ale that day, and I can honestly say it was an absolute waste of time.

Jon made up some lame excuse about having to work at Radio Shack or something, I forget. All I remember is that he left his cell phone on Justin's table and we called everyone in his phonebook. All 2 people. His mom and his voice-mail. And his mom screens his calls. Jon came back to get his phone and saw me using it. He broke a full IBC root beer bottle over my head. I need to start doing pushups again.

So Jon left again and the rest of us got pretty bored. Emily suggested that we watch Pirates of the Caribbean. Justin informed her that it was not out on dvd yet, making it impossible. "Impossible nothing!" I exclaimed, "We can just act it out! I'll be Captain Jack Sparrow!". Justin said "Ar" and hit me across the knees with a tire iron. We had a good laugh.

It was about five o'clock when we got bored with each other and left. I'll never forget the lesson that I learned that day.

-Nick
Nick@progressiveboink.com
AIM: WaterAndCoffee