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Tickets? Yes, you do need some stinkin’ tickets

The following is based on actual events Saturday in Charleston, S.C. Quotes may not be verbatim*
They really did run out of tickets
Two App State fans approach the gate at Johnson Hagood Stadium, eager to purchase tickets to get into the big App-Cit game. As they approach, they see a small pool of black and gold milling about, aimless, much like the Bulldog rush defense.

AppHubby: (approaches ticket counter) Hey buddy, what’s going on? Two tickets for the game please.

CluelessBulldog: (Sitting back with feet on counter, staring at ceiling, hands behind head) Sorry, dude. We ran out of tickets. We’re waiting for more though. Just give us a few minutes.

AppHubby: What? (Glances over to what little can be seen of the stadium. Sees plenty of seats) It’s a sellout? Really?

CluelessBulldog: No. You misunderstand. (Sits up, feet on ground). We. Ran. Out. Of. Tickets. Just wait a spell. Don’t worry, someone went out to make more. (Leans back again, props feet back up)

AppHubby: Make more? I don’t want a can of Pringles, man. I want to get into the game!

(Sounds of opening kickoff echo over)

AppHubby: Can’t I just pay you the money and walk in? The game’s starting.

CluelessBulldog: Sorry. No can do. You have to have a ticket.

AppHubby: Why? Is there a raffle after the game? I didn’t drive six hours for a doorprize! I came to see the game!

CluelessBulldog: (Getting annoyed) Them’s the rules. No ticket, no admission. (Lifts feet and spins chair 180, putting back to AppHubby. Picks up magazine on the ground. Starts reading)

(AppHubby slams hands on counter, walks off thinking “WTF?” Recounts conversation with wife, four nearby App State fans and anyone within 40 feet of his voice. He even calls two friends to vent. Just as he hangs up cell, cheers echo from the distance, as unbeknownst to him App State goes up 3-0. He decides to get uppity)

AppHubby: (Walks back to counter. Sees CluelessBulldog still has back to him, reading magazine. As AppFan gets closer, sees the magazine is PlayGirl.) Hey dude!

CluelessBulldog: (Almost falls over as he attempts to slam shut magazine, drops it instead. Falls open to centerfold of Mr. November, who looks strikingly like Clay Aiken. Clueless kicks it under the desk and, obviously embarrassed and pissed, sees AppHubby). What?!

AppHubby: You got any tickets yet, seeing as how it’s 15 minutes past kickoff and there two hundred people wanting to give you money to see a game you’ve had on your schedule for, oh, eight months?

CluelessBulldog: (Abruptly) No. We don’t. Have. Tickets. Yet. Just keep your cool and wait a few.

AppHubby: Can’t I just pay you, and you mark the back of my hand with an “X”? This isn’t that complicated, even for a Citadel grad.

CluelessBulldog: (Getting pissed) Rules are rules. No ticket. No admittance. (Crosses massive arms over his massive chest, while massive foot further kicks less-than-massive Clay deeper under desk)

AppHubby: (Looks to sky and turns as he mutters under breath) Idiots! Who the hell has a homecoming game and runs out of tickets!! (Turns back to Clueless). Screw your new stadium! You need to buy a damn printer!!

(He walks back to wife. His attempt at world record for f’bombs in one sentence is interrupted by another thunderous eruption of applause. He hopes he didn’t miss something big. He prays he didn’t miss something big. Then he gets a text message – ‘Armanti just ran 80 yards for TD.’ Proceeds to then set world record. Grabs wife by hand)

AppHubby: (Storms up to Clueless, throws money at him) Here! This should cover two tickets. We’re going in!

Clueless: You can’t do that! Security! Security!

(Three really big dudes step up and block entrance. AppHubby starts to make like Armanti, then realizes AppWife only has the speed to make like Bake Baker. Backs off)

AppHubby: Come on, man. We just want to get in to see the game! Can’t you give me a break?

Clueless: (Shakes head) No ticket. No admittance.

AppWife: Whatever happened to Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell? Doesn’t that go for football games as well as magazine subscriptions?

Clueless: (Face goes red, as does two of the three security guards. Stands silent for a sec, staring at AppWife. Finally speaks) Just go. Let ’em through. Go.

AppWife: (Winking at AppHubby) You owe me.

* Quotes are entirely fabricated

One Comment

  1. mtnman

    November 9, 2007 at 2:13 pm

    Clueless: (trying to find a way out of this) Okay, buddy. What you say we go up in my blimp and talk this over like adults. Plus, we'll have a great view of the game from there.

    AppHubby: Alright…whatever.

    (minutes later from the blimp, Clueless scuffles with AppHubby, eventually slinging him out of a backdoor to the earth below. Straightening his tie and gaining composure, Clueless spots another Bulldog watching on in terror. Clueless leans over, gives a sly grin as he points to the still open door.)

    Clueless: No ticket. (he replies)

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