#burnsy

wallpapers • brent burns + cute aesthetic

Requested by anon

Credits of the wallpapers’ elements and style go to their respective owners. I only assembled them to make the wallpapers.

“Bee Boop” the Skype window sounded as it closed.

Joey Avery sighed, took off his backwards-facing Chicago Bulls cap, and ran his hand through a mane of shoulder-length blonde hair before replacing the cap. He hoped the ruse would fool the listeners one more time, especially that one fellow who seemed obsessed. Joey had never known his father, but from Vince’s stories, he thought he would’ve liked him a lot.

As Vince and Brendan drove, the fully blasting AC failed to counteract the sweltering Florida heat. Vince’s “sponsored” Uproxx trip had turned out to be a bit skimpy on the amenities, such that his large friend found himself wedged into a Smart Car. The scene would be comical if you dared laugh.

They passed the Golf Hall of Fame.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I got a hole in one?” Vince asked in semi-reflexive jest.

Brendan snapped. “Yes, Vince, yes, I’ve heard the story of how you got a hole in one seven hundred fucking times!”

A moment of silence lingered.

“I know, dude, I was just trying to make a joke…”

“Well don’t! It’s too fucking hot for jokes! This car’s to goddamned small for jokes! This stupid asshole of a state smells like a hobo’s dick and you’re cracking jokes!”

Later, they had arrived at their destination, the whole reason Brendan had come with Vince in the first place. A tombstone in the shape of a skateboard stood before them.

“Ashley Burns Keep it tight. Shred the gnar.”

Brendan coughed.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” He struggled for words. “This place… he was the only good thing about it, and he’s gone.”

Vince nodded. They stood in silence watching the sunset.

This seems like the right place to mention that I’ve been shopping around a script for my Filmdrunk frotfiction prequel. It’s a coming of age/teen sex comedy about a young dork from Fresno with dreams of being a writer who pledges into a frat run by a cool sophomore named Ash. He tries to loosen up but has to fight the fact that he is a literal, medically diagnosed tight-ass. Still, by the end he learns about partying and forges a life-long friendship with the frat leader and this one older dude with Bell’s Palsy who’s been around forever and creeps the women out, but is lovable.

A sample from the script:

ASH: First things first, you gotta drop the name. No one is buying Vin.

Vincent: *Begins to object*

ASH: *Pats Vincent on the back in a reassuring way* Don’t worry about it, brother, there are lots of other names. You could be Vinny!

VINCENT (thoughfully): Or Vince…

ASH: That’s the spirit! Now, next, you gotta get rid of those JNCO jeans and rasta beanie. It’s 95 degrees, dude, wool hats are dumb. And you’re scaring away all the ladies. We already have an uphill battle to bring women around with Hangdog Legel sitting on the porch.

Appendix: How Burnsy got sick

It was cancer: he got radiation poisoning while doing sweet dirt-bike tricks off the cooling towers at Chernobyl back in ’01 (the greatest year for music, nevermind what that jabroni Mancini has to say). The illness took years to manifest itself, far longer than anyone would have expected. Even Burnsy didn’t really realize anything was wrong. Once or twice he mentioned that he felt sick, but his bros misinterpreted what he was saying and took it as a sign that he wanted to rage extra hard. Which he did.

No one realized anything was different until one fateful day when Burnsy tried to do a party trick he’d done a million times: a 360 keg flip. It’s like a handspring except you grab a full keg while you’re doing it, and in the brief hang-time you ride it like that dude who rode the bomb in that old film, I think it was called Weird Science.

Watching the trick was always the highlight of any party lucky enough to see it. That one fateful day, though, Burnsy faltered. Oh, he completed the trick, but he rocked a tiny bit unsteadily when he stuck the landing. That was when he knew.

Schnitzel Bob Presents

“Finding Joey: A Frotfiction Adventure in Five Parts”

Prologue

A small group stood around a hospital bed, silent save for the maddening beep of the EKG monitor.  

Burnsy lay prone, emaciated yet still, incredibly, rad. "Vince" he croaked "I need you to do something for me.  When I'm gone."

Vince angrily rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.  "What do you mean, gone?  You're not going anywhere you knucklehead."  

Burnsy smiled weakly.  "No, Vince.  We both know it.  I'm going up to shred the ultimate gnar with James Deen and Anthony Kiedis."

Across the bed, Matt raised his hand as if to say something but thought better of it.

Burnsy reached up and, for the first time in recent memory, removed his backwards Chicago Bulls cap, revealing a still glorious mane of radiant golden hair. He pried the fabric off the bill of the cap and removed a picture.

"Not... long now."  He handed the picture to Vince. "This... is... my son."

Reeling in shock, Vince looked closely at the picture.  It was of a monkey smoking a cigar while wearing a tiny Tommy Bahamas shirt.  He tried to ask a question but saw that it was too late.

The beeping became irregular.  In the stillness, the gathered could just make out Burnsy's final words.  

"...keep... it... tight... bro..."

Vince milled in his spot.  He looked again at the picture in his hand.  What was he supposed to do with it?  Was it a final joke?  A cryptic clue?  

Some time later, Vince was clearing out the few belongings Burnsy had left in the hospital room.  He picked up the Bulls cap and turned it around in his hands.  He'd never known whether Burnsy wore the cap ironically or not. "I suppose I never will."

He placed the cap in a bag when he noticed something fall onto the floor. Another photo.

A muscular young man, shirtless, bearing the same neon-framed sunglasses Burnsy had favoured, and, crucially, the same kind of backwards Chicago Bulls cap over shoulder-length blonde hair.

This was him.  This was Burnsy's son.  It had to be. And Vince knew he had to find him. But how?  He considered the question for a few minutes but decided to return to it later.

Tossing the photo into the bag, he didn't notice that the reverse side had a single word written in a corner.  

"Joey."