The Legend of Polyflower

Once upon a time, thrity college students wanted to have a good time. "Over our collective dead body!" screamed SLO County, at the top of its lungs. Leaping into action faster than a crew of morons can build a Foothill Bridge, they shut down the weekend of fun, fondly dubbed Polyflower, in deference to Wildflower and Poly Gras.

But what would've happened had SLO County, especially Ranger Don, not been such total assholes? There's no way to be sure, but there is a way to speculate.

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Colin Bartolome wallowed in his own vomit, cursing Dan Fake for continuing to pour Country Club down his throat, even though he couldn't feel his left arm any more.

"Get the fuck out of here, Dan!" Colin gurgled.
"Ha ha! This is what you get when you try to do something nice!" Dan yelled, channeling the County Board of Supervisors.
"Give him hell, Danny-boy!" Jason "Boner" Cummings pitched in, channeling the City Council.
"This can't be happening!" Colin shouted.

Then his alarm beeped, and he handed the notebook onto the next person. Colin had been writing a segment in a live, hard-copy WriteAround. This story had been getting big laughs all night, and people had insisted its continuation.

Just then, Ranger Don came rumbling up in his Ford Pinto, that being the best car the county owned.

"Hey, you rotten kids!" he yelled. "No laughing, or I'll have you all castrated!"
"Fuck off, Ranger Don!" Derek Kurtti shouted.
Then Derek took the mightiest rip from his bong and expelled a massive could into Ranger Don's face sending him flying backwards strait into a tree. Ranger Don's head had been split, and they thought all was settled and the party would go on, but out of nowhere a medic from Lake San Antonio showed up and helped Ranger Don with his wounds and surely enough Ranger Don was back into action, oppressing the masses of fun loving chartible college students who had conveined for a fun, but safe, camping trip.

It was clear that there would be no holding back with Ranger Don, so we decided to break out the big guns... beer guns that is... beer blasts of course!! Dan loaded up one gun while Colin loaded the other and prepared. They took careful aim and right as Boner distracted Ranger Don by pouring ketsup all over his hiking boots Dan and Colin blasted him at the same time right at his face, to all of our amazement Ranger Don turned with almost a smile, opened his mouth and took it all down like an experienced pro. Just then Dan

put on his Duct tape underwear. "Oh Shit!" He exclaimed. "I put them on inside out!!!" And with that he sat down to painstakenly pull his pubes one by one from the superglue-like grip of the tape. Colin, fearing a reprisal of the ketchup incident from last year, took a freshly cooked burger off the grill, and started opening multiple ketchup packets he had pilfered from the McDonalds at the bottom of the hill. As his pile of empty packets grew, he had only created a mere tablespoon of ketcup on his meaty meal.
Ranger Don, who either was already standing there or just appeared suddenly, wondered why everybody was using the ketchup so sparingly. Then it dawned on him. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the blast of the twin-barrel t-shirt gun that Colin and Mike had contsructed specifcally for Polyflower. His eyes widened as he caught sight of what flew toward him at sixty-five miles per hour.

Ketchup. Eighteen gallons of it.

The ketchup blast smacked Ranger Don in the chest, breaking the gold chain around his neck. He flew backward, stunned. Colin ran over and picked up the thin chain, which had fallen to the ground. There was a locket on the chain! Colin opened it cautiously and spied a picture inside.

"What's that picture of?" Dan woke up momentarily to ask.

"It's of Ranger Don!" Colin replied (except Dan had already passed out again). "This fascist keeps a picture of himself in a locket around his neck! Talk about a superiority complex!"

Everybody else in the campsite took notice of this, and in a startling show of solidarity, dug a big hole and buried Ranger Don up to his neck in it, placing the locket just out of tongue's reach.

Mike shot another blast of ketchup at him fo
r being a total jackass. As I grabbed the tricycle out of some drunk Belgian's hand, I accidentally fell ass backwards down the makeshift puke/urine/beer/tapioca slide. Writhing in filth, my poop-brown tuxedo soiled, I regained my composure just in time to catch a short glimpse of Derek attempting to "mack" on an unassuming freshman. I submit the following exchange between the two, verbatim, for your consideration:
Derek: "Hi, I'm tall and blonde."
Girl: "Yes."
D: "You know, I'm practically the king of everything. Have I told you about the time that I got up on stage one year at Wildflower?"
G: "What's Wildflower? I heard that once you told everybody that you couldn't get it up."
D: "Damnit, that never happened. And by the way, I never peed on anybody either. Let's just step into my tent and do a little dippity-do baby."
G: "Let's call that a
funky Alfonzo"

Now that we were settled with that, it was time to get the ranger into some trouble, so off the suggestion of a cavity-chest we poured oil onto the lake and lit it on fire. After that things kinda got out of hand. The treehouse stage that Bone had built collapsed. The band that was playing (the homeboys) fell out of the tree each injuring themselves fatally. Luckily the Ernie Ball stage had just gotten there and Joose was all smoked out and ready to tear it up.

With the music blasting and a wine bag in hand, Kristen was the first to get on stage, Catfish Jim just stood in the back throwing footballs at the stage, never actually getting them on there, but always coming real close.

Then the thing happened that I'll never forget, Colin, completed drunk and out of his mind (in part because of a brownie I gave him, that while he suspected it went along with it anyways) went tearing through the crowd throwing people to the ground. Then he jumped on stage and yelled "I can't get it up"

Well he didn't really
"he merely jerked his head wildly and threw his chest out in a gutteral cry. The mud dripped and mixed with the blood from his nose. His powerful buttocks undulated and shimmered in the pale moonlight of Lopez Lake. He raised his bat again for another whack. This time it was ready! He slapped the young men standing closest to him and grabbed the hussies from thier...
tent, throwing them over his shoulder and carrying them back to the campsite.

Then things got ugly. The hussies were two retired female wrestlers. But Derek didn't care; Derek never cares. Call it a character flaw, but at least he gets tail.

Ranger Don's head was still stuck up on a pike, his hair still on fire. "The choice is yours, and yours alone," the head bellowed, channeling Olmec from Legends of the Hidden Temple. "Hey! What am I doing up on this pike?"

"You've done the crime and now you're doing the time, you bastard!" everybody in the universe yelled. "If you can't take the heat, don't fuck over thirty college students!"

"Shit!" Ranger Don said, and died again.

It was then time for the topless challenge. Everybody who wasn't already blind banned Derek's hussies from participating. Derek fed them eight beers each as compensation. They downed them like tic-tacs, can and all.

"What a bunch of ugly goats! GOBBLE GOBBLE!"
Suddenly some deer came prancing over looking for a meal, which of course Ranger Don would not allow for. Anything fun or useful will not happen as long as ranger Don was there, thankfully Bambi's disgruntled younger brother was there, and of course now he's a full grown 6-pointer. He charged Ranger Don with the ferocity of a pissed off Paris Hilton at a dive bar she ended up in after getting lost in LA and all her cocaine ran out, it was ugly. The deer charged and...

BAM!!!

Ranger Don punched that sonofabitch right in the skull and the deer dropped, never would've believed it, in any case someone poured more ketsup on one of his shoes while he wasn't paying attention.

After the whole deer thing it was time to go for a swim, of course you're not allowed to get in the water unless you have already been drinking and have a beer in your hand, so if you don't have a
cock in your mouth, you'd better get one. Dolores jumped up and threw herself on the BBQ while Donald Trump wailed magnificently in the background saying "You're fired" to a group of hot dogs. I rode the tricycle down to the lake to take a dip, but before I could corral my noble stead, the Belgian Marauder stole her from me. I followed the mad Belgian into the next campground where I found a make-shift weapon; a bottle of KETCHUP! Sneaking up on the Vile Eurotrash, I doused his contorting body with a sweet spluge of red justice. PUBERT, the rouge tricycle was mine once again! After waking up in a pile of beer-battered clothing, I realized it had just been a s
tupid decoy; they let us come to Polyflower so the "adults" could have the city to themselves for the weekend. With all the students at Lopez Lake, they could demolish portions of Hwy. 101 and 227 and keep us here forever.

Well they miscalculated, and misread their map; they forgot about Pozo. Everybody forgets about Pozo. Our route home would take us out Hi Mountain Road, via Pozo, to W. Pozo Road, then to Hwy. 56. The forgot about Santa Margarita. Everybody remembers Santa Margarita but nobody cares.

Our convoy crested Cuesta Grade late Sunday afternoon, but we then remembered that we never really settled things with Ranger Don, so we all turned back (much to the locals' delight) and headed toward the lake once more for the final showdown.

Ranger Don was there, twirling his mustache (if he has one, and he probably does) and waving our $366 in our faces.

"You already paid, and you already checked out," he said, "you can't come back in."

"Like hell we can't!" shouted somebody, while somebody else wielded a pitchfork.

The stage was set. Range
r Don was not looking forward to what would be done with the pitchfork, so in a last ditch attempt to avoid a beating, he busted out his can of mace, only to realize the mace can had been all used up in some crazy sex acts with racoons and squirrels at the station the night before. "Oh shit" he said and then...

WHAM-O!!!

Pitchfork strait to the ass!!

As if that wasn't enough Colin poured ketsup all over Ranger Don's shoes again and exclaimed "Victory you sonofabitch" To which Ranger Don replied "take this god damn pitchfork out of my god damn ass!!"

As a finale ranger Don was given some beer, then when he was thuroughly intoxicated and completely passed out, he was stripped of his clothing by colin, put onto a cross and dragged into crusades camp site and we