Bro’s Day

Three fraternity brothers sat on a couch, staring at their phones, a football game playing in the background, when one of them uttered two words, “bro who.”

The man in the middle with a light pink shirt and black hat on asked, “bro who?”

The third brother dropped his phone, “bro who.”

“Bro Who!” the three brothers huddled together and jumped in the air.

“Do you think a lot of others are going to be entering?”  The bro in pink asked.

Their other brother, wearing a white tank top with slick black hair, stroked his dogged jaw line. “Who cares, it won’t matter when you compare their work against a real artist.”

“Yeah we’ve got this,” the last brother agreed awkwardly aware of the fact that they were still hugging. They jumped together a few more times before suddenly unhooking and looking around awkwardly.

“Okay guys, but if we are going to do this, let’s make sure we do it right.”

“True, we need to properly brainstorm this,” the bro in pink suggested as he pulled out a pen and journal from his back pocket. “Okay, I guess we should probably start by throwing ideas out there.”

“Oh how about a car wash?”

“Bro! Mountain Who is sooo much better than a car wash, and their next Million dollar commercial needs more than hot babes in slut harnesses.” The bro in white pointed out this fact and fell to the couch where he crossed his arms.

“Hm…” It was silent for a moment as the three bros strived to understand. The three bros had been bros all their life, and that’s all they knew. Fortunately or not, they were also mega fans of Mountain Who.

“We love babes, and I do want to include some hot babes in this, is it possible to at least include a wet t-shirt contest?”

“I see,” the bro in pink stepped forward, “we need to tell a story.”

“Yeah..” they all drifted off. It was silent for a few minutes, their brains appearing to shut down for a moment.

The bro in white was the first to break the silence. “You know I was on my way here today, and I was just minding my business at the intersection when I was scared half to death by someone knocking on the window. It was some homeless people, and I didn’t give them any money, but I thought this could make a good spokesperson for something.”

“That is so true, people always cry when they see homeless people,” the bro in pink uttered on vehement breathe.

“Ha that’s true, and if they are cryin they are buyin.” The bro offered while wiping his sweaty palms against his board shorts.

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