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(Created page with "{{Note|This story is a sequel of sorts to Beavis and Butthead Origins.}} Everybody Loves Raymond was a mostly O.K. show. It starred Ray Romano, a stand-up comedian who i...")
 
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{{Note|This story is a sequel of sorts to [[Beavis and Butthead Origins]].}}
 
Everybody Loves Raymond was a mostly O.K. show. It starred Ray Romano, a stand-up comedian who is mostly famous for cracking jokes about leaving the toilet seat up, watching NASCAR with the buds, belching in public and claiming it's a compliment if you do it in front of an Italian chef, that sort of thing. I bought the DVDs once as a blind purchase and didn't think too much of them, but my mom loves the program so I gave them to her.
That decision will haunt me for the rest of my life.
 
... I should probably clarify. My mom loves the DVDs a lot, and nothing bad happened to her or anything. One night I was hungry and in need of a pizza, so I called a pizza shoppethem using 1-800-COLLECT. It was a pretty big mistake, given that collect calls these days can cost you, like, $576 dollars for six and a half minutes, but I did it as my 80s walkie talkie cell phone has a habit of being way too staticy if the duct tape isn't tied to the antenna tight enough. The conversation began as normal, though I noticed that the pizza guy's voice sounded a lot like the brother character from the Raymond television program.▼
That decision will haunt me for the rest of my life. ... But I should probably clarify. My mom loves the DVDs a lot, and nothing bad happened to her or anything.
 
"What do you want on your pizza?", the gentleman asked. Pepperoni's kinda my thing, though if you asked for that in Italy they'd bonk you on the head and hand you a pie full of hot, steaming peppers.", I replied.▼
▲One night I was hungry and in need of a pizza, so I called a pizza shoppe using 1-800-COLLECT. It was a pretty big mistake, given that collect calls these days can cost you, like, $576 dollars for six and a half minutes, but I did it as my 80s walkie talkie cell phone has a habit of being way too staticy if the duct tape isn't tied to the antenna tight enough. The conversation began as normal, though I noticed that the pizza guy's voice sounded a lot like the brother character from the Raymond television program.
 
"What do you want on your pizza?", the gentleman asked.
 
▲"Pepperoni's kinda my thing, though if you asked for that in Italy they'd bonk you on the head and hand you a pie full of hot, steaming peppers.", I replied.
 
"Wait a minute. I have to scratch my balls.", the guy responded. Good God. All I wanted was a pizza! I freaked out and without giving my address or credit card information, I hung up the pay phone. Given that I had to drive 70 miles out of my way to find a pay phone to begin with, I knew I wouldn't be able to get back home in time anyway.
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I looked up into the sky. The Georgia mountains teased me. I didn't bring anything with me on my vacation besides a hatchet and a copy of The Book of Mormon, which I read every day. The hatchet... can't say I've used it before. I carry it around for protection. I used to just use The Club when it came to making sure nobody stole my car, but once it spread all over the World Wide Web how to hack open that shit, I traded it in for the ol' pickax. I named it Susan, after George Costanza's fiance from Seinfeld.
 
I stuck my keys into my yellow 1977 Ford Pinto. The engine wouldn't start! ''Damn it!'' This meant I was lost in the middle of Georgia without an out! Furthermore, I was still hungry. I picked up Susan and gave her a kiss. I stroked her wood, and she stroked... my heart, I guess. I knew what I had to do. If I was going to survive out here, I had to make my own cabin, and pick fruits and veggies to survive in the short-term. Maybe if I found a cow, I could make my own cheese, and therefore, my very own pizza. Father always said that it tasted better when it came from nature's own oven, rather than your grocer's freezer. I gave Susan a lick (not the sharp part of her, of course) and began walking up the rocky, mountainous path.
 
A couple miles in, I had some luck; I found an uninhabited tree (no squirrels or any shit like that) that looked juuust right. Without thinking twice, I went chop chop chop. "Tiiiiimber", I cried... even though I hadn't even put a dent in the sucker yet. My hands hurt like hell. I took a breather before starting up again. "I said fucking TIMBER, gah damn you!!!", I yelled.
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"I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees!", he shouted back with a smile. He laughed so hard and high-pitched that I was surprised that I could hear it, and not just dogs.
 
"Okay, seriously. Who the hellfuck are you?", I rebutted with a scowl. I had no time for Dr. Seuss jokes. I was really hungry, my car was broken down, and I needed shelter because a storm was up ahead. (I knew this by looking at the clouds. My Native American blood aids me in using nature to predict weather, too.)
 
"Some people say I'm a funny man. Others say that I'm just a regular old average Joe guy. Others... call me Raymond."
 
The chills swept back in. The Everybody Loves Raymond!?!? Out here in the middle of the Georgian wilderness? My heart harlem shaked. What were the odds?
 
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"No, you stupid, fucking shit--I mean, friend. Susan. Please give me Susan."
 
How did this guytape--I mean, this guy--know my pickax's name? I shrieked in horror, carrying her like that guy in that one famous novel pet that rabbit, and ran, ran, ran! I didn't turn around! I didn't look back! I ran down the mountain, past the rocks, the streams, the birds, the Bullwinkle J. Mooses, whatever! But then I noticed that my inventory... seemed lighter.
 
My Book of Mormon! I dropped it in the dirt trail behind me! I could make out Raymond's scowl as he picked it up... and made me shit myself.
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"Pizza delivery for a... Jonathan? No, that's not it. Peter? No, that's not it, either." The pizza man rolled his hand under his chin like The Thinker statue as he tried to recall who it was that had ordered the pizza.
 
"Are you looking for... Raymond?", I managedmanage to say in-betweeninbetween gasps of breath. I swallowed one of my teeth in the process, but it was okay because I didn't really want to live anymore.
 
"Yeah, that's the one! He called using the payphone a couple miles down from here! Funny thing is, our shop is right across the street from the phone! Ha ha, what a barrel of laughs, man!" he said, sounding like one of the characters from the The Beatles cartoon, or something.
 
"Oh, that'sh really fucking hilarioush.", I sighed. Those 's'es were pronounced like 'sh'es because, my teeth and the shape of my mouth were really fucked up at this point. I sounded like the Geico Caveman or something, but I couldn't save anybody money on car insurance or anything like that. I was a freak of nature.
 
"Well, here you go. Bon appetit!", he squealed. He handed me the box, and I fidgeted with it, trying to open it.
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'''The End.'''
 
{{v|reading|qqK2PpOhTaw}}
 
{{by|Cjaymarch84}}
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[[Category:Unnecessary Sequels]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
[[Category:YT Readings]]
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