Short Stack here. Before this story leaks to the mainstream, I wanted my readers to here it straight from the stack-man first: Yes, I form tackled beloved comedian Jerry Seinfeld just outside of Crazy Billy’s in Deer Park. But, I had a good reason.
There I was peacefully minding my own business, browsing through Crazy Billy’s selection of craft beer on a quiet Thursday night. I had a cart filled with a couple cases of Serenac, Two Roads, and some generic shit such as Corona Light and Budweiser. I felt I was being watched as I picked up a four-pack from the shelf to read the nutrition label.
From a distance I heard a nasaly voice say “George!” I looked left, then right, but I saw no one. The voice returned again, “Elaine!” I examined the store again but I could not find the source of the sound. It wasn’t until I looked through the shelf to the next aisle that I discovered where that awful sound was coming from. In between two twelve-packs sat the stupid face of Jerry Seinfeld. “Kramer!” he shouted directly at me, not two feet from my face.
“Can I help you, Jerry?” I asked staring angrily at the ’90s television star. After all, Jerry is annoying and I just wanted to finish my shopping without this denim-clad buffoon stuffing my ears with his high-voice bullshit. Jerry expectedly responded, “Newman!” I rolled my eyes and stormed over to the register. Jerry was acting like a complete jackass. Matters got even worse as I reached for my wallet. Jerry grabbed my arm, ripped it from its socket and screamed, “Even THIS is better than airline food!” before taking a gargantuan bite from my still-clothed forearm. I was not pleased with Jerry. I gathered my things and walked to my car.
I had just about finished loading up my car before my detached arm flew into my windshield and shattered it. Jerry stood near the entrance of Crazy Billy’s with a menacing grin on his blood-covered face. I shrieked, “My arm taste good Seinfeld?” His smile grew. “My fist is gonna taste even better!” I sprinted full speed into that washed-up multi-millionaire and form tackled him into the cement foundation of Crazy Billy’s. Jerry hissed and slithered under me. He then sprouted wings on his upper back and swiftly flew away.
So before you judge me for knocking Jerry Seinfeld into the hard outer wall of a liquor store, just know that the 1990s king of comedy was being a little annoying.