So I'm sitting on my couch one day, wearing my pink polka dotted boxers, eating some fruit loops, fighting off a hangover brought on by Jack/Jim/Jose/Captain/Satan, and I get a call from an unknown number: 1-666-666-6666. I was about to answer, but then Maury Povich popped back on the TV and said the results were in and I had to ignore the call. This bitch was testing the 13th guy for her 27th kid, there was no way I could miss this. So after watching the trashy cunt run off the stage because she just found out she is a bigger slut than even she thought she was, I try to call the number back. Fuck, won't connect. I few seconds later the same number calls me back, I pick up immediately. A voice says, "An inmate at Eternal Damnation is trying to reach you, will you accept the charges?" I'm shocked and shitting myself all the while thinking that I am actually in hell right now and this is just some sick joke. I accept, not even knowing who was trying to reach me.
Eternal Damnation Inmate: Hey, Mr. Ace. How are you doing today?
ME: Pretty fucked up right now. Who the hell is this?
EDI: I got word that you were guest hosting at The Money Shot for a couple weeks, Satan is a huge fan, and I knew I had to get ahold of you.
ME: Uhh, thanks. Again, who the fuck is this?
EDI: My bad, this is Sean Taylor.
ME: Holy fucking testicles! This is really Sean Taylor?
Sean Taylor: Yeah.
Me: You're in hell?
ST: Yeah. It sucks.
ME: Fuck yeah it sucks, it is hell. You totally got fucked over. I mean, you weren't the best guy in the world, but you got gunned down defending your family in your own home. How did you get stuck in hell?
ST: Well, right before I went to bed I just got done ramming my girlfriend in the ass. I found out that God really hates sodomites, gay or not. If I would have known that I never would have picked door number 2.
ME: Are you serious? God is a dick. So what do they have you doing down there?
ST: Well on Monday/Wednesday/Friday I am strapped down wearing nothing but a Maurice Clarrett jersey while people dressed in Michael Pittman jerseys spit in my face. Then on Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday I am a relationship counselor for Steve McNair and Sahel Kazemi. Man, that bitch is crazy. Every session ends with McNair pounding a bottle of Hennessy and Kazemi blowing his face off. But it's the only entertainment I get while I'm here. Oh yeah, on Sunday's I have to watch Chris Horton highlights.
ME: That is FUCKED UP. Chris Horton actually has highlights?
ST: I guess.
ME: So is Satan actually a big red guy who has sex with Saddam Hussein?
ST: Yeah. The other day they tag teamed Michael Jackson. That shit was hilarious. They lit his hair on fire and made him sing "Beat It" while they went to town. Have you ever heard a man sing with a dick in his mouth?
ME: That is FUCKED UP...One of my commenters Uncle's is actually an expert at performing all tasks with a dick in his mouth... They should have made him sing a song like "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough."
ST: Yeah , that would have been my choice.
ME: So why did you want to talk to me again?
ST: I saw that Cooley did a post and I remember the day G Money showed up at practice. That guy is like a cross between Artie Lange and Carrot Top.
ME: That may be the best description ever given of G Money. Did Cooley miss anything in his post?
ST: Nope, it seemed pretty accurate. I totally nailed his wife once though.
ME: You lucky bastard. She is fucking hot.
ST: Yeah, that bitch is a freak too. She caught Cooley giving Portis a reach around one day and got all butt hurt and called me. She told me to come over and meet her out by the pool. I get there and this bitch is completely wrapped up in Saran wrap. There is a giant bag of Taco Bell on the table and a bottle of Milk of Magnesia sitting next to it.... We took Hot Carl to an entire different level that night.
ME: That is FUCKED UP.
ME: So are you able to see everything that is going on up here?
ST: Sort of. We only get to see all the crazy shit. Ya know, wars, incest, Jonas Brothers, etc...
ME: Okay. I was wondering if you got to see what G Money did on his wedding night. He got pretty shit faced and I'm pretty sure that he just passed out beating off to a picture of A-Rod.
ST: Well, part of that is right.
ME: What the hell does that mean?
ST: I don't even know if I can tell you.
ME: Come on, you're in fucking hell. What do you care?
ST: Alright. Well G Money and his lovely bride got back to the hotel and it was time for the action to begin, but G Money had something a little different in mind...He made her dress up like A-Rod and take a Louisville Slugger...
ME: WHOA! That's enough. Christ, that guy is more fucked up than I thought.
ST: I told you that you didn't really want to know.
ME: I can never watch the Yankees again.
ME: How about some of the commenters? I know they do some nasty shit.
ST: Yeah, I have the dirt on all of those douchers.
ME: How about Grumpy? That guy is a real pain in my ass.
ST: I wouldn't fuck with that guy. He's not right. That guy pops Viagra like skittles and has a thing for farm animals.
ME: No surprise there. How about Seal?
ST: Well, I'm not really sure how to say this, but he is the Anti-christ.
ME: You're fucking with me, right?
ST: No, Satan and Rosie O'Donnell made a baby and that's what came out. He has to fuck orphans to stay alive.
ME: It makes so much since now. What about Daniel? He doesn't comment too often, but I know he is fucked up.
ST: Do you know how Daniel became a Fuckeye?
ME: Uhh, he made the team?
ST: No, he gave Tressel a buckeye.
ME: As in the little kick ass dessert things?
ST: No, a sexual buckeye. It's when a guy bends over and allows another man to shove one of his testicles into his anus. Then he pulls it out and tea bags him.
ME: That is FUCKED UP.
ST: Alright Ace, my time is up.
ME: Well it was great hearing from you. I'm sorry to hear that you wound up in hell.
ST: Yeah, I got fucked. How the fuck does Chris Benoit get into heaven but I don't?
ME: That is FUCKED UP.
It's been a pleasure entertaining you for the last two weeks, ladies and gentlemen. I love all of you equally. You mean the world to me. I've also got some bad news. G Money was attacked by a shark on his honeymoon and won't be able to make it back to the blog for another week. That means you get one more week of ME!!! Hooray.