While the dull sound of the infomercials in the background hadn't stirred Butthead from his sleep, Beavis was wide awake and jittery. He hadn't slept a wink all night. Sleep is near impossible when the hamster wheel in your skull is bouncing around over this thought:

He scored! Beavis finally scored! He thought it was never going to happen, but it just did! He scored!

He just never thought he'd score with Butthead.

It wasn't like they'd never practice or experimented on each other before. But actually spreading your legs on the couch was a HELLUVA lot different from the usual routine of kissing and dry humping...

Beavis' "thoughts" were interrupted by Bill Mays shouting about cleaning products. Infomercials suck! He wished he could get the remote but Butthead's fat ass was crushing him. He tried squirming out from under his...whatever Butthead was to him now, but found it impossible to move. Or at least, impossibly painful.

"AH! Um...heh heh, um...Butthead?"


"My butt hurts."

"Sorry 'bout that, dude."

Beavis scowled at that gummy, metal smirk.

No he wasn't.

"You suck!"

"Uh...so do you, pecker wood. Remember?" Butthead's smirk stretched as Beavis turned red and pouted. Score one for Butthead! Huh huh huh...score...

After a brief moment of silence, other than the television, Butthead nudged Beavis.

"Uhh...'s your butt better yet?"

"No!" Beavis hissed through gritted teeth at the 'butt-head' looming over him. "Uh...hey Butthead? Don't we have like...school or something today?"

"Yeah." Butthead responded absently, while staring at a pimple on Beavis' forehead. It may have been the closest he'd ever come to staring lovingly into his eyes.

"So how am I supposed to learn or whatever if my bunghole's all stretched out!?"


"Don't what? Stretch out my bunghole?"

"No, ass munch! Don't go to school. We can like...skip today or something. Yeah."

"Oh. Heh, okay...heh heh." Beavis agreed.

Another brief moment of silence past before Beavis did what I laughably refer to as "thought of something."

"Hey Butthead? Uh...what should we do?"

"Uh...huh huh...nothing. Just watch tv until your butt's better."

"No I mean...what should we do about...after..you know...after we uh heh heh um..." Beavis' train of thought was cut off by a burst of nervous laughter. But Butthead miraculously understood him anyway. I guess that 'takes one to know one' expression applies to morons too.

"Um...huh huh...uhhhhhh...we could, like...spoon."

"Heh heh...I'm not hungry, Butthead. But uh...thank you, drive through."

"No, butt dumpling! Spooning! It's like...uh...huh..." Butthead gave up trying to express himself with words and decided he'd just show him.

He maneuvered himself so he was sandwiched between Beavis and the couch. He let one arm hang over the blond boy's body, while the other arm snaked under him to meet the first arm. "It's like this." Butthead concluded, as he hugged Beavis close to his chest.

"Hmm...Uh, heh heh, that feels really good but uh...heh heh...why are we doing it?"

"We're supposed to. Yeah, it's like the law or something. And I heard that if you don't spoon after you do it, and the fuzz finds out, they chop off your wiener. So you can't ever score again."

"Woah! Uh, heh uh...spoon me harder, Butthead! You know...just to be safe and stuff."

Then they just layed there for a while. Shifting every once in a while to scratch a butt cheek or pick a booger. But they mostly just spooned as the day rolled by in music video long segments.