It was a grey gloomy day, and the presence of the sun was sadly missed by the Motherfuckers. The surf was low, the tourists high and about. Motherfucker #1 -- Dude, I miss the sun... Motherfucker #2 -- Yeah, but how about them Yankees? Motherfucker #1 -- Remember when I accidentally really fucked my mother dude, that night. East of the great West, and the light bulbs all exploded, and the wall paper caught on fire? Jesus, you know, I would have never thought...The odds, you know? Motherfucker #2 -- Yeah, you got a stoagie? The first Motherfucker, in a fluid motion, whips out leaf & his fire box and bequeaths of it the light, which it does, and the other Motherfucker then, indeed, has his smoke snack. A seagull hops up and kindly asks the two Motherfuckers, "If perhapsing they would be most kind as two flick it a fry?" Both Motherfuckers shake their heads, ignoring the beaked rat. The seagull tries doing his magical dance for potatoes, but a fat-cunt on her way to the hippo trench, kicks it hard, sending it flapping out of control into a trash receptacle. There, he gets his wings, and finds a cold dog wrapped in old runny sauce. Motherfucker #1 -- I mean, how should I've known that lady was my mother? Christ, she kept saying she wasn't? Motherfucker #2 -- Yeah, dude, and that's what they're supposed to say. See, and then you get the breakfast, and the big move in. Motherfucker #1 -- Dude, but that's not the digs? What if say, I actually gave her my God juice, and she harvested it there within her tubes of 'things that come from tubes'? I'd be a Daddybros, and see, that's hard on the softball swing. Motherfucker #2 -- Huh, yeah dude, that's an excellent point. So what happened? Motherfucker #1 -- What do you mean? Motherfucker #2 -- What's different now, after I mean? Because, I mean, you're really a MOTHERfucker. Motherfucker #1 -- I don't know, I can feel luckier, like I won something you know, and it's on the way, you know? Motherfucker #2 -- Ah, yeah dude, totally. The two Motherfuckers get up and proceed to an obvious group of mothers. The first Motherfucker does his magical Motherfucker mating call and greeting, but as luck would have it, right when he finished the last series of instinctual gestures, a Seagull turd at high speed made contact with his face from a good mile up. The second Motherfucker, horrified, tries to pick up the sacred ritual where his friend left off, but it was too late. The Mothers had gotten away.