You Can’t Spell Fate Without Fat

Jesse: Do you believe in fate?

Howard: (Eating potato chips) Why?

Jesse: Because I met a girl! (does a happy dance) It was so weird too, because it was just a chance meeting of two souls drawn together by some unseen force.

Howard: And you believe this unseen force to be fate?

Jesse: Yeah. But it’s not just our meeting that leads me to think that... it was the fact that we somehow started talking and ended up hanging out for like, 2 hours. Not only that, but she had just broken up with her long-term boyfriend like, a week ago.

Howard: And you believe that she did so because of some sort of cosmic puppeteering that would eventually land both of you together... at least for a short while?

Jesse: What do you mean “for a short while”? This is fate, Howard. You can’t fuck with fate.

Howard: Yeah, but fate can fuck with you. I’m telling you right now bro, she just got out of a long-term relationship. You’re fucked, and not in a good way.

Jesse: We’ll see. By the way, what’s with you and the potato chips? You’ve been eating them since I got here. You’re gonna get fat....ter.

Howard: I’m just eating like this because I’m training for a marathon.

Jesse: Come again?

Howard: It’s all about fuel, Jesse.

Jesse: The band?

Howard: No, the thing. Think about this. Have you ever watched a marathon? Everyone running in it is super thin, and they’re always sweaty and exhausted. They prepared by counting calories and running for miles and miles, which puts them at a deficit of fuel. My theory is that if I conserve energy and eat a lot now, I can have plenty of fuel to blow past other people in the race.

Jesse: That’s probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I watch Rush Limbaugh. Don’t you realize that it will take much more fuel to push a lardass 300-pound frame the necessary 26.2 miles than it would to push a leaner, more athletic frame?

Howard: You, my friend, have fallen into a common fallacy. Think of the airplane. It weighs thousands of pounds, but it can still travel hundreds of miles an hour, in the air no less. Why? Because it has enough fuel!

Jesse: My God you’re retarded.

Howard: You know, it’s probably not cool to make fun of retarded people like that.

Jesse: First off, I wasn’t saying anything derogatory towards the mentally handicapped. Second, you know that when we’re not around, handicapped people make fun of us! I’ll bet they stand up out of their wheelchairs and go “Hey, look at me! I’m normal!” then sit back down as all the other handicapped people have a good laugh at our expense.

Howard: You are going straight to hell.

Jesse: People do tell me that. Anyway, I’ve gotta run. I’ve got a date with fate. He, he, I rhymed!

Howard: That you did. Well, good luck. I’ve got some training to do.

(One Week Later)

Jesse: (enters) Well, my date su-Jeebus you’re fat!

Howard: (still eating, now with pillow under his shirt) Fuel my friend, fuel.

Jesse: You’re gonna have a heart attack out there. Anyway, my date sucked. And not in the fun way. She kept talking about her ex boyfriend Thad. What the hell kind of a name is Thad anyway? Everything was Thad this and Thad that. I guess he’s a stud track star who’s won a bronze in the Olympics or something like that. Supposedly he quit his job in preparation for a marathon. He’s a lock to win too, so he’ll get to take the $5000 purse home. Bastard. I drew the line when she asked me to drive her to watch his pansy ass run in it. What a ho.

Howard: I keep telling you man, girls just don’t know a good guy when they see one. Like me for example (squeezes chocolate syrup straight into his mouth).

Jesse: Girls like that just piss me off. She had no problem making me open doors for her and pay for her and shit, but she does have a problem with going on a second date. Fucking A.

Howard: Well, I’d love to wallow in your self-pity for a while longer, but I have head out. Marathon’s tomorrow. Just remember... there is such a thing as fate, from girls to traffic lights to marathons. But fate can only take you so far. You have to do the rest yourself.

Jesse: Thanks bro. Good luck tomorrow... you tubby bitch.

(two days later)

Jesse: (sitting alone by phone, with head in hands. Phone rings) Hello?

Kelly: Is Jesse there?

Jesse: This is he.

Kelly: Hey, it’s Kelly!

Jesse: Kelly? Hi! Uh, shouldn’t you be with Thad or something?

Kelly: Well, funny you mention it. Thad had that marathon yesterday, right? Well, some fat guy who kept yelling about fuel was trying to run the marathon too and had a heart attack right out of the starting gate. He fell on Thad, breaking his leg. Well, naturally he wasn’t able to finish the race. Thad had no money since he had quit his job to train, so he couldn’t pay rent and ended up moving back home to live with his parents.

Jesse: Really? That’s... uh... too bad. (Pumping his fists in happiness)

Kelly: Nah. I think I was stupid to go back to him anyway. Sometimes I really question my ability to know a good guy when I see one. That is, unless you’re interested in a second date.

Jesse: Kelly? Do you believe in fate?

END

"You Can’t Spell Fate Without Fat" debuted September 7, 2001, performed by Howard Zimmerle, Jesse Wozniak, and Erin Carter.

[Back to: Library]