The person who writes the best Superbowl Joke (in my opinion) will get a paperback copy of Scrote One: A Star Wars Parody (or just buy it for as low as $1.99 on kindle).
Also check out my new series, Riz Raru in… The Case of the Sticky Fingers
A plucky PI users her unconventional methods to find out the truth after an army private gets caught under the influence of marijuana but claims she never smoked.
I knew it was important that I talk to Jessica immediately, so I only spent three days in Vegas instead of four, and then it was off to her home.
She lived with her mother in a house I remembered from egging it way back five minutes before I knocked on the door. Her mother, Belda, answered. She looked like a Belda. You know, old and boring. She didn’t like when I said that. I told her I was just kidding. She said she didn’t find it very funny so I explained to her that it was funny because it was true. She didn’t like that either. Finally, I decided to shut up and urged her to let me in. She was starting to ask about the eggs and I had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.
She left me alone in the living room while she finished something up in the kitchen. It gave me time to case the joint. I examined the knick-knacks on the mantle, pocketing a few. Nothing too valuable or incriminating. Just some elephant statues and an urn. The urn didn’t fit in my pocket so I put it back and just took the ashes.
Several pictures of Jessica were proudly on display, including some from her recent graduation from the military academy. It felt nostalgic for me. It reminded me of the time I thought about joining the military. You never forget about the times like that.
Belda came back in the room with a tray of drinks.
“What is that? Tea or something?” I said jokingly. She said it was. Neither of us found the situation very funny.
“You don’t understand how important this is to me and Jessica. Without her military salary, we can’t afford to keep this house. Not to mention our family name, tarnished,” said Belda, nibbling on a biscuit.
“Your family name?” I asked.
“Yes. The Rios family- “
“Rios?!” I interrupted, “that’s the name of the murdered girl I’m looking for!”
It took her seven minutes to explain to me that Jessica hadn’t been murdered, and that she was baffled why I was there if I hadn’t already known Jessica was her daughter. What she was saying made too much sense for me to doubt. Once I understood most of it, and could pretend that I understood the rest, I told her she had my full vote of confidence.
Once we were back on track she offered me some of the tea. I refused since it could have easily been weed tea. She told me it wasn’t, but I couldn’t be so sure. Her daughter had mysteriously gotten high without smoking, after all. She said that made sense, so I told her she owed me a dollar. It took me seven minutes to explain to her why she owed me a dollar before she finally gave in, or just got tired of guarding her purse so tightly.
To kill the whole tea issue, I knocked the teapot to the ground. You could tell she knew I meant business because she asked me to leave. This wasn’t going well, but it was going better than it usually does.
Belda continued to give me whatever information she had. “All she ever wanted was to be in the military. Like her father. She’s never smoked anything in her life. Drugs or otherwise.”
“So, you’re saying your daughter has never smoked anything? No joints, cigarettes… meats?”
She didn’t follow, so I slid her the smoking gun, pun intended: a folder with pictures of Jessica at a BBQ, smoking meats.
I put my hand on Belda’s shoulder to comfort her, and to discreetly wipe some gunk off on her blouse.
“Looks like your daughter hasn’t told you everything. The first thing you need to do is accept your daughter is a liar. I suggest we turn her in, or drown her to save face.”
She told me that it was just barbecue and that can’t possibly be what I meant. I told her she was right, but in court that wouldn’t matter.
“No offense, Ms. Raru, but you certainly don’t seem like you’re suited for this type of work. You hardly seem like you take investigating seriously, and you certainly don’t seem mentally equipped to carry a gun.”
I would have shot her face off right then and there for insulting me like that, but I’d forgotten all my bullets. She was right though. I told her that I’d never held a gun without fatally shooting someone.
She said, “accidents happen.” Yeah… accidents.
I knew she needed some assurance. I usually charge more for that, but she really needed it. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make sure I put every ounce of my being into this case. Except for poopoo and cah-cah because that would be gross.”
I got up to leave, but stopped to take note of a decrepit old ghost that had appeared behind Belda. Remember how I can see those?
“I think your house might be haunted?” I said.
“Why do you say that?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but there’s a ghost right next to you.”
She looked at the ghost.
“That’s my brother, William. And he’s not a ghost,” she said. William just shrugged. He must have felt dead, or something.
It was time to get serious and find out who murdered Jessica.
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments!
Don’t forget to sign up for my mailing list so you can get your copy of Scrote One! (just click here)
This past December I self-published my second Star Wars parody, Scrote One, in conjunction with Rogue One: A Star Wars Story. The year before that I released The Farts Awakens in conjunction with The Force Awakens. I often get asked how I wrote them, considering they must have been written before I saw the movies. Even more often I get asked “why write a Star Wars parody instead of… well, anything else?”
This blog is going to focus on the WHY I wrote them. If how I beat the odds to write them interests you, don’t worry. That’ll be coming up! Reminder that these are available on Amazon, and Scrote One comes with BOTH The Farts Awakens AND Scrote One!
And one more thing… I’m giving the books away for FREE at the end of this blog!
Why I wrote them should be pretty obvious: the stacks and stacks of cold, hard cash. Of course, I later learned there’s only peanuts in selling books, so that cold, hard cash was more like tepid, soggy cash. The REAL reason was my love for Star Wars. I was so excited for The Force Awakens, not really sure how to harness that excitement until I saw Amy Poehler make some joke about Star Wars and I thought, “I bet if Amy Poehler made a Star Wars parody it would kill.” That was it. Somehow that small germ of a thought turned into “Joe. You can write a Star Wars parody and make a killing!” With just 15 days before the movie’s release, I had the idea: The Farts Awakens. If it seems like it was on a whim, it’s because it was.
I took off work (I freelance, mostly) and started writing. That’s partly where the decision to write it in screenplay format came from. It was much shorter and easier to do it that way, but it also felt more like a parody than writing it in prose (maybe I’d watched too much Spaceballs and Thumbwars). It was easier to convey Star Wars imagery in screenplay format, plus I think it’s funny to have a twisted version of a Star Wars movie you could read with your friends. Was I right? I don’t know! Go buy a copy!
Honestly, the first one started out as much as a joke as it did a real project. Since the movie was going to be coming out in 15 days, I knew I needed help. I contacted some comedians I knew and summoned them to a secret meeting for a project they’d have to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement (NDA) to be a part of. I went to the Upright Citizen’s Brigade theater in Los Angeles with a suit, office supplies, and NDAs. When the writer’s got there, the gag worked. I’d made the whole thing so grandiose that it all seemed ridiculous (This later would play into one of my marketing strategies).
The main goal for The Farts Awakens was to write a parody that was unapologetically crude and silly. I wasn’t trying to write something you’d discuss with your country club buddies. It was meant to be something that if you didn’t find funny right away, you’d eventually breakdown from the constant onslaught of dirty puns.
Initially I thought this would be a great work of art. Then over time I started to fear people would think that all I am as a writer is dirty puns. Don’t get me wrong. A LOT of who I am is dirty puns, but there’s more to my humor than that. That’s where Scrote One came in.
With more time to think about it and prepare, a Rogue One parody seemed like a given. I wanted this one to be crude and silly as well, but I wanted it to have more types of jokes in it than The Farts Awakens. You could say it was an evolution of my Star Wars parodies, but that sounds so douchie, so we won’t.
Ultimately that’s why I included Farts Awakens with Scrote One. I felt Scrote One is much stronger and wanted it to be the compendium of my Star Wars parodies.
If you guys like this, next week I’ll be writing about my process writing parodies. If you have any questions about either book, I’d love to take them in the comments. If you have any constructive criticism on this blog, I’d love to hear it too. I threw this one together fairly quickly because I’ve been sick with a fever this whole week.
Now for that FREE COPY! I’d really like some more reviews on Scrote One, so if you subscribe to my mailing list I’ll send you a PDF copy!
Read Part 1 Here (it’s very funny!)
I wanted to release another chapter this week, but I’ve had a fever and don’t know what happened in the last 36 hours. Good news is I want to send some of you people my Star Wars Book!
If you’d like a PDF copy of my Star Wars parody, Scrote One, sign up for my email list (just click here). I only ask that you give it a review. Thank you in advance! More writing soon.
Hello GoodReads users!
I’m doing a giveaway for my Star Wars parody, Scrote One. It’s super hilarious, and you can even read a sample HERE.
If you don’t have a Goodreads account, sign up for one. It’s easy, ya lunkhead.
If you want to read it NOW, you can get it for $1.99 as an ebook, or $9.99 as paperback. That’s cheaper than a 12-pack of beer, and much funnier.
I’m doing pre-orders on my new Star Wars Parody Book, Scrote One: A Star Wars Parody!
Last year in anticipation for The Force Awakens, I wrote The Farts Awakens: A Star Wars Parody, which you can read a sample of here.
SYNOPSIS: The Rebel Assliance makes a risky move to steal the plans to the Death Shart, setting up the epic saga to follow.
Please check out the FUNDING PAGE for more details. If you love Star Wars, and just love silly things too, this is a really fun book (written in screenplay form to capture the cinematic feel of Star Wars)
Very excited to announce my new paperback available on Amazon.com, The Farts Awakens: A Star Wars Parody! (Click the image below for a link to the Amazon page)
Written in easy-to-read screenplay format, this aggressively stupid, incredibly hilarious Star Wars parody follows the adventures of Rey Toiletbowler and Finn Hardwiper as they learn to use the Farts, the mystical power of the Browneye. With the help of Handjob Solo, Princess Lay-yuh, and Jewbacca, they’ll try to stop the Empooper from releasing a weapon with unimaginable smell.
30 years after the fall of the Galactic Empooper by the hand of the Rebel Assliance, the Empooper has regained strength, propelled by an unknown, dark power. Lead by General Fucks, their plan to dominate the galaxy is almost complete, using a new weapon, the power of which has never been seen before.
As time has passed and faded away, so have the lessons learned, and the heroics of the Rebel Assliance long ago. People have since forgotten the part that Luko Cockblocker played in defeating the evils of the Empooper. They have forgotten how he used the Farts, a binding, ubiquitous force found in the anus, to ultimately defeat Shart Vader.
The Browneye, an order of warriors who used the Farts for good, have been forgotten and relegated to legend. Nothing more than stories told to children, or printed in books meant to be read on the toilet.
There are, however, dark forces slowly gaining power, and those who have felt the farts before… will start to feel them again.
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