Virgil is a Dick

This episode of History Bros is sponsored by collegeboard.org: collegeboard.org, making teachers teach to the AP Test since whenever. Students pay $93 per exam, the school pays $84 per exam, and so everyone’s fucked.  Collegeboard.org: the poor man’s ETS.  History Bros is also sponsored by Magnum condoms: Magnum condoms, it won’t fit. Stop it. Magnum Condoms!

We have a very special guest today, folks. But before I introduce him, I’d like him to try on one of these free Magnum condoms we received. Magnum condoms: just like bulk order t-shirts, you can’t trade down to the small, you’re stuck with a large!

HB: Try it on, you dunce.

V: I don’t understand.

HB: What are you compensating for?!

V: Huh?

HB: I’m sorry folks, I haven’t introduced you to my dear friend, Virgil. Ancient Roman poet, best known for his “epic,” The Aeneid.

V: Among other things, yes. I still don’t understand…

HB: Sure you do, you son of bitch. AP Latin . Senior year of high school. The entire year was spent translating that ripoff of Homer.

V: Mmm? I certainly modeled it after Homer’s epics, but I introduced new ideas of tragedy and poetry to the…

HB: Shut up. What was the verse written in again, pterodactyl sexymeter?

V: Dactylic Hexameter.

HB: No one likes you.

V: What?

HB: Everyone got a 1 on the AP exam! I drew Ziggy cartoons in my test booklet.  That. Actually. Happened.

V: Ziggy’s a good and, I might add, very witty friend of mine.

HB: Try it on!? For who do you work for!? Collegeboards.org!?

V: For whom.

HB: Take off your bed sheet, you hack!

(Pause)

HB: Oh my god, it’s huge.

V: Man is defined by the mind, son. You seem to be living in the past, and no one ever…

HB: Take the box of Magnums and get the hell out of my studio.

V: As you wish. (Takes a sip of Mountain Dew Red Zone). Red Zone gives you wings!

HB: And Virgil just flew out of the studio. He has a massive penis and can fly.

That's So Gav

Welcome back to another episode of History Bros after a brief period of grieving following the assassination of our last guest, James Garfield. He was assassinated on a Monday. He must hate Mondays. Anyway, enough of death, let’s breathe new life into this room with our next guest, a strapping young Balkan named Gavrilo Princip. 23-year-old assassinator of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and catalyst for World War I…  Fuck. Kevin! Kevin! More death?! And Kevin has given his 2-week notice as History Bros intern. New position open! Goddamnit! I dunno, maybe we can squeeze some fun out of this.

HB: Gavrilo…

GP: I go by Gav.

HB: This is already a bad start.  Ok, Gav, did this assassination take place on a Monday by chance?  This is the only thing that will cheer me up.

GP: Sunday.

HB: You suck.

GP: Do you have any vegan options – I can’t do this egg salad sandwich Kev gave me.

HB: Kev is gone now, so no.  Eat it.  You’re so ridiculously skinny.

GP: The Black Hand doesn’t oppress animals, only the oppressors, the Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his uncle’s regime of brutality.

HB: It’s apparently fairly multicultural, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Also, I don’t really mind Franz Ferdinand.

GP: I dunno, his early stuff was OK, but then he sold out and it just became corporatized. Less raw, ya know?

HB: No, I don’t. Gavrilo...

GP: Gav

HB: Nope, Gavrilo. Gavrilo, I’m not buying this whole Black Hand thing.

GP: Whatever, you wouldn’t understand anyway.

HB: Did you and your friends ride bikes to the assassination?

GP: No brakes, no gears!

HB: You suck at killing people.  Your equally skinny Black Hand bro Nedeljko…

GP: Ned.

HB: Shut up! He shittily threw his grenade at the Archduke, probably because he had absolutely no protein in his diet, and then tried to kill himself with a dud cyanide capsule and jumping into a river that was four inches deep. Cops got him right away.

GP: He was a poser.

HB: Gavrilo, I don’t like you, but I can tell you this, you need some protein because you will die of tuberculosis before you’re even hanged. I’m actually trying to help you and your little mustache out on this one.

GP: I’m fine with this pint of triple-filtered watermelon water and handful of lima bean husks

HB: Egg sandwich! Now!

GP: No!

HB: Eat it! Next time, ladies and gents!  Eat it!  Kevin, you’re rehired if you open this little shit’s mouth!

Garfield Hates Mondays

It’s been a tumultuous few weeks, and the divide in this country has never been more starkly pronounced.  We here at History Bros felt it was necessary to bring some joy, to laugh again, as we navigate unknown territory in the narrative of this republic. So, this week, we’ve got a special comedic guest to bust our chops: 20^th President of the United States and lasagna aficionado, James A. Garfield!

HB: President Garfield, did our interns offer you a small bowl of milk?

JG: I really don’t know how to answer this anymore…  I’m not a cat; I’m a man.  A man who attended Williams College, served for years in Congress, was a major general in the Union Army during the Civil War, and supported civil rights for African-Americans while Reconstruction wreaked havoc on the US.

HB: Todd, Garfield doesn’t want milk! Water?

JG: Sure.

HB: Todd, a small bowl of water for President Garfield!

JG: I can use a glass, I don…

HB: Garfield, what was it like to live with such a dunce like John Arbuckle?

JG: I’m sorry, what? Sir, I came here to discuss my purging of the US Post Office of corruption – matters of the highest order!

HB: I hate junk mail, right!? Ok, “a would you rather.”

JG: Huh?

HB: Odie or junk mail? What’s worse? That’s gotta be tough!

JG: What!?

HB: The brilliance of Jim Davis, discuss!

JG: Sir, I wanted to discuss my myriad merits that the American people never seem to remember because I died so early on in my presidency.  Taken too early by…

HB: I know. You were hit by a car driven by disgruntled office seeker Charles J. Guiteau, which is just completely random.  Did John Arbuckle not have the money and put you down? That happened to my first cat, Pooky. You feel terrible because it’s like a part of your family, but like, money…you know?

JG: I hate this! I don’t fucking know what you’ve been talking about this entire time.  Please get this small bowl of water out of my face AND this heaping pile of lasagna! I hate today! I…

HB: Oh, oh! What’s today?

JG: Monday.

HB: Would you say that you hate this Monday?

JG: Yes, I’m particularly annoyed. I hate this Monday.

HB: Yay!!!!!!

Truman Goes to School

Holy shit! It’s been a while since History Bros has been up and running – my apologies for that as I was grieving the loss of my dear friend Morrie.  I would meet with him every Wednesday, though we had a bitter fight some five years ago over fantasy football and some bigoted things he said.  Suffice it to say, I feel terrible and am racked with guilt.  Apparently some asshole started meeting with him on Tuesdays and wrote a book about it.  He didn’t even know Morrie! I knew Morrie! But, life is too short to hate, and I’ve decided to give back to the community in honor of my dear friend Morrie. He would’ve wanted that, as bigoted as he could be.

I don’t like soup, so I I’m not volunteering my time at a soup kitchen.  I can’t read (I can write, I just can’t read), so tutoring is out. So why not help my fellow man with the basic life skills needed to get moving, get a job and find a sense of purpose in life?  Welp, it just so happens our guest today is unemployed. Let’s get the job done!

HB: Harry S. Truman! Ex-president and a man collecting unemployment.

HST: It’s rough out there. We haven’t fully recovered from the economic crisis of 2008, and most jobs these days require at least a college degree.

HB: Wait. You don’t have a college degree?

HST: I do not.

HB: I can’t even read and I have a college degree.  I majored in classics by the way.

HST: Well, I mean, I enrolled at Spalding’s Commercial College in Kansas City – go Cornish Game Hens! Studied bookkeeping, shorthand and typing, but just wasn’t for me. Wasn’t a fit, you know?

HB: Mmmm, your skillset may be dated. Were you training to become a stenographer?  What the hell do you do with that?

HST: Didn’t you major in classics?

HB: Moving on.  Trumie, what are you passionate about?

HST: Haberdashery

HB: Like, men’s clothing?

HST: Yes, I owned a haberdashery before I fell into politics.

HB: The man who dropped the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki was a haberdasher and studied typing?

HST: It takes a delicate touch

HB: The haberdashery business or total war?

HST: Both.

HB: Well, you’ve got gumption, Trumie. Listen, I’ll give my pal Chad down at Joseph A. Bank a call and see if he can start you off in the stockroom or something.

HB: Chad, it’s me. I know, thank you. It was good seeing you at Morrie’s memorial, too. Listen, a buddy of mine needs a job, even if it’s starting in the stockroom. Mmhmm. Um, Spalding Commercial College, but one year. Really? Alright, well thanks man. You still doing the 3 for 1 sale? Awesome. Ok. Bye-bye.

HB: No dice Trumie, you need at least a master’s to work at the Banks.

HST: Well, I guess it’s time for me to suck it up and go back to school. What about that ITT Tech I’ve seen on movie box?

HB: Awww, it just went the way of Spalding Commercial College. Sorry, Trumie. Listen, I’ll take you down to the Banks and I’ll give you one of my 3 for 1 dress shirts. Least I can do.

All: Banks spree! Yay!