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july 4th weekend, episode three: spytech 2003
July 10, 2003, 6:45 pm

The group set about ensuring that SPYTECH 2003 would go off without a hitch; in order for it to happen, however, we needed a couple of unsuspecting hormonal twits to go off to do the dirty deed on the pier.

We unanimously decided to poke and prod Sisqo and the Roadrunners ("Crazy Boy Band Ass!") to make out with the NJ Princess Size Two Bitches, and flirtation was already on in the hot tub. Things seemed to be going pretty well, until Husband Brad starting eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I'm telling you what, Jess, these boys couldn't get laid if they were holding bananas in a monkey whorehouse," he said, shaking his head, "They're clueless and those girls aren't biting."

Despite many insinuations and starting of inane sexual conversations, Ryan the Funeral Director and I had to concede that Brad was right. If you put the collective personalities of these kids together, you'd scarcely have enough to fill a Dixie cup. Even more BEER couldn't add to the action, so Husband Brad volunteered to at least run around naked to get them talking about SOMETHING (even if it was his retreating naked ass). In the house, we (meaning Dave, Ryan the Funeral Director, Sam the Farmer and I) were peeing ourselves because it was so funny (almost quite literally...hey! I'd had a lot to drink and I'd broken the seal, okay?).

Around 2:00am, there was finally a break-through in the form of Tiffani (NJ Princess Size Two Bitch #1) being escorted down to the pier on Sisqo's back. Success! We were in! Let the mission commence!

We plotted our course of action: we would lurk down to the bay, jump over the edge of the rocky cliff to the sand, scuttle out into the bay and army crawl through the two-feet of water under the pier until we could hear and see them. Much like cartoon characters sneaking up behind an unsuspecting target, the SpyTech 2003 Team tiptoed quickly until we could hide behind trees (sucking our guts in while doing so), barrell-rolling behind bushes, and peeping our heads over rocks. At one point, I was struck by the ridiculousness of the whole enterprise, and I started laughing so hard that all the beer bubbles emitted from my ass; I farted so loudly that Ryan the Funeral Director and Sam the Farmer heard me from their perch roughly 20 feet away.

Once the gas passed, we all made it to the water's edge. "Okay Sally, guys, this is it," Ryan whispered, "Sally, take off your clothes." I did as I was told, revealing my bathing suit while the boys opted for their shorts as swimwear. Carefully, we slid down the rocky embankment in our barefeet. Ryan was the first to hit the water, and as he did, I was conscious of the noxious smell of the Toilet de Chesapeake; man, that motherfucker is foul. I swore as I stubbed my toe several times and risked a clitorectomy by skidding down the remainder of the rocks in my bathingsuit bottoms.

As I stepped into the murky water, I noticed that my foot not only sank to above my ankle in sludge, but also refused to move any further. Pleading with Ryan to help me "out of the hole," I struggled a bit until I keeled over and made a huge splash, taking Ryan with me. It did not dampen the mission, however, since at that precise moment, Ryan's dog B.D. decided to join us in the water for some SpyTech fun. Great, B.D., go ahead and splash around and make lots of noise. Just great.

Resolved to do better, Ryan and I called to Sam the Farmer and Husband Brad, but we were treated to their retreating backs back to the house. Undaunted by the rest of the team abandoning us, we trudged ahead.

If you've ever wondered what it would be like to submerge your hands wrist-deep in filth that has the textured of baby poop and vomit, by all means, try to crawl army-style in the creek that is a tributary of our bay. Add in fragments of shells, rocks, biting crabs, and fleeting fish behind your fingers, and you have what Ryan and I crawled through to get under the pier. Completely riddled with bug bites, crab bites, fish bites, and smelling like fish carcass, we made it to our destination. We crept silently under the pier until we were directly across from his family's boat, where our lovebirds were...talking. Fuck. I just ruined a year's worth of manicures for TALKING. I shot Ryan a nasty look, until I heard "Yeah, I can go all night long."

The fumes got to me and I lost it, I started laughing so uproariously that the only thing I could think to do to save the mission was to dunk my head underwater; bubbles of my laughter exploded around my head and Ryan splashed away from us to divert the sound.

"Where are they?!? Where are they?!?!" Sisqo was NOT pleased.

I crawled as fast as I could as far away as possible. Ryan stayed put. After about five minutes and I had calmed down significantly, conversation resumed on the boat and Ryan had gotten closer. I started moving to him when I heard an odd slapping sound. Oh yeah, the boat was a-rockin, and I was missing the whole damn show!

I scurried over to the other side of the boat, still under the pier, just in time to have something large and angry bite me on the arm. The sudden movement caused me to jerk my head up, hitting it on the pier, and end my part of the mission.

The combination of head slam and still-drunkeness made me woozy, so I threatened to go back to land, Ryan and I regrouped.

"Sally, listen, you've got to get Brad and Sam. They can't miss this. I think a crab just bit me. I'll stay here."

I nodded and made the trek back to the Compound, where I noticed that I was completely covered in a layer of grey-green slime. I jumped into the pool, toweled off, and ran into the house.

Sam and Brad were in the bedroom, talking, along with four others who had passed out cold. I tried to tell them of the mission, but could not stop laughing, so Sam and Brad started to get up and see for themselves when Ryan entered, holding his leg.

He had banged his shin on the pier so hard that he had a huge bruise and could barely walk. SpyTech 2003 had come to a close, but not before the couple in question was seen by Sam and Brad "going at it" on the porch in front of the kitchen at 4:00am. Success!

Did you miss Episodes 1 and 2? Don't forget: next episode is the Inebriation Olympiad!

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