Meet Joe Rogaine, the mixed martial arts comedian, who is all about hair impersonations and fighting the evil Carlos Propecia. Will Rogaine beat Propecia in the ultimate hair-growing comedy challenge?
Trigger Warning: Epics are not good reading for religious zealots, especially Christians, sexually uptight pricks, or stupid people.
*All books in the Epic Short Story Series contain adult content.
The Epic Short Stories are satirical, sometimes raunchy narratives poking fun at religion, entertainment, and society. Written originally as a concept for animation, the Epics soon developed into tiny fiction installments made available on KDP.
Chapter 1. Joe Rogaine
While EarthTubing different shows, I came across the Joe Rogaine Experience. The review described little about the show, but curiosity motivated a call to Stephen, and he agreed to attend the show at the Cosmic Comedy Club that night.
Arriving at the club that evening, we ordered drinks, and while waiting for our order, Stephen asked, “What’s this show about?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know; the reviews were vague, with comments like, ‘It will make the hair stand up on your head,’ or ‘You’ll laugh so hard your hair will fall out.’”
Stephen smiled. “That is strange.”
The lights dimmed, and spotlights flashed whirled about the stage as a voice rumbled over speakers, “The Cosmic Comedy Club proudly presents the Joe Rogaine Experience. Welcome, Joe Rogaine!”
Wearing only mixed martial arts boxing shorts, a man ran on stage, waving to the audience. “Hey everybody, how the fuck are you?”
Everyone clapped and cheered as Joe Rogaine jumped up and down. “I am so damn excited I could explode!”
With each bounce, different colored hair grew from every inch of his body then exploded like fireworks. I pointed to the stage. “Holy shit! Are you seeing this, Stephen?”
Stephen’s face brightened in shock. “That’s fucking insane!”
Joe's hair ceased growth as he walked across the stage. “I saw Lincoln the other day. Man, that motherfucker is ugly. He was trying to pick up Betsy Ross, but she wanted nothing to do with that monster.” Joe’s hair grew into a Lincoln beard and the shape of a top hat. “Fucking look, man. You’re in Heaven, and it's 2018 on Earth. Lose the fucking antique hat and Amish beard. Get yourself a cool goatee and some shades.” The beard fell off his face disappearing on the way to the floor as the top hat blew away like dust in the wind, and immediately, a goatee and a pair of sunglasses grew in place.”
The audience roared as he walked about the stage. “Yeah, some guys can pull off the beard and goatee look, but not me. I am just glad that women don’t wear beards and mustaches. About the only hair I want to see on a woman is a big, tasty bush. That’s right; I’m a big bush guy. Whatever happened to the 1970s Playboy bush?” As he spoke, hair grew from the front of his shorts. “You know what I am talking about? Remember those big bushes women had in the seventies? They looked like a forest growing between their legs. What the fuck happened to the big bush? I liked the big bush!” Pubic hair grew ever faster, filling the stage, creeping into the audience. People reeled as the bush crept closer, and the moment hair almost touched them, it exploded into nothingness. “And with no bush, instead of fucking a chick, I feel like I am getting sucked off by Telly Savalas. Who loves ya, baby?”
Stephen and I laughed as Joe continued his monologue and hair impersonations.
