Bro’s Day

“That is the simple fact in life Tucker, I’m so glad I taught you that.” The bro in white explained.

“Okay great, but what are they going to do?” The bro in pink conjectured.

Tucker exclaimed, “Quick hop on Twitter.”

The bro in pink pulled out his phone, “Whoa, the Mountain Who competition is trending, and right below it is the hit thriller, Survive in Siberia: Extreme Travel Competition Game show.

“That’s it Ronny!” The bro wearing white cries out. “We have to make it a competition show.”

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s grab the gear!” Tucker incited.

In a mad dash they scrambled to collect bags, cameras, microphones, and pounds more of film gear they needed, cramming everything they could in the car. Within five minutes they were packed, ready, and sitting in a beat up old Chevy. They cruised at low speeds down the driveway and through the neighborhood.

Ronny spread himself out in the back seat, reclining against the torn up polyester. An unusual funk seeping from the material didn’t seem to bother him.

“Man we had some good times in this car didn’t we bros?”

“That is an understatement Ronny.”

“Okay Bros!” Tucker announced, “We have to focus now, eyes on the prize. This million dollars from Mountain Who is gonna change our lives forever and if we don’t win I’m literally going to find a Russian MILF Online and sell myself to her.”

“Woah Bro, do you think we can come?” The bro in white asked.

“Of course you can, you’re my bro.”

Together the group chanted, “Bros! Bros! Bros for life! Bros!”

‘Hurraaawww” the group was caught cheering with overwhelming glee as they spotted a group of homeless youth standing around an intersection with signs. They frowned. “Pull over here and park,” Ronny shouted, pointing towards a street off to the left.

Hot black rubber stained the road as they came screeching to a hault. Crippled the car shook and turned down the road coming to a slow rolling stop. “Bro, let’s just focus on getting the best quality product for Mountain Who.”

“Okay, so let’s get this set up.”

They walked over to the group and began setting up their tripods, screwing in this piece and fastening that connector, they began to put together a decent professional set up. The homeless youth looked confused and impressed.

“Who are you?” the youngest one asked, a boy who could have just started elementary, walking up to the bros. When they didn’t respond he repeated himself, “what are you doing here?”

“We’re here, because we wanted to ask you to be in our…” the bro hesitated for a moment, “student film.”

“Listen we’re not interested in anything like that,” an unshaven man with dirty hair, and a red handkerchief around his neck stepped in between them.

Ronny’s voice became whiney as he rebutted. “Oh but, this is gonna be cool, you get to be in a competition, and you’ll get paid.”

“You will pay us?”

The bro nodded his head.

“Okay, that should be fine,” the man announced turning around he addressed the kid and a short young woman behind him. “You know competition is the spirit of success in this great country, let’s do our best and get lots of money so we can eat a lot of dinner tonight.”

“Exactly,” Ronny came charging forward fist in the air, “It’s the great American tradition, this is about rising above! Isn’t that right James?”

The bro in the white tank top answered him, “that’s right, okay, so we’ll come around and do some individual interviews, we probably want this to feel as real as possible.”