Transcribed from: Comedy Central[On front porch. Bruce has three kids listening.]
Transcribed by: Tlyco@aol.com
Bruce: [with hick accent] The biggest crouton I ever saw was this big [illustrating size wider than his shoulders]. It took three guys to lift it. So, if you and your friend wanted to lift this crouton, you'd still need another guy. That's how big the crouton [voice cracking, when emphasises words] was!
The guy who owned it, kept it in a shed, wrapped in velvet. And, if you wanted to see it, he'd take you there, but it cost you fifteen dollars cash down. . .and you'd have to be drunk. Drunk--so you wouldn't know where he kept the crouton.
They called him Ol' Daryl, although he was only eighteen years old. It was one of those names folks hoped he'd grow into. . .sorta like. . .Hank, you know? Ol' Daryl loved his crouton so much that it worried his girlfriend, Hazel--a name that no one ever grows into.
And one day, she said, "You know, Ol' Daryl, I think you love that ol' crouton more than you love me!"
"Welp, there's the door," he said.
And at that he motioned at a large hole in the wall that he intended to build a door into as soon as he got some tools.
So, the fight ended in a compromise. He decided to buy her a humidifier.
And as fate would have it, as they were out that night, some kids. . .kids I guess about-about your ages, your sizes, smells, uh, hair color, and ethnocentric backgrounds. . .were out in the midst of a rango-tango devil-maker spree, and they happened upon the crouton shack. They broke right in. They _claim_ they were looking for mother's days gifts, but I don't believe that. . .because as soon as they saw that crouton, they had their little Swiss Army knives poised, and they started hackin' away and that beautiful crouton. . .just to garnish their selfish salads. And then they skidattled as mysteriously as they came. They were kids a lot like you.
And by the time Ol' Daryl came home with that humidifier under his right arm, that crouton, once mighty and towering, was now the size of say a Rubick's Cube. And if you were there, in the middle of that monday night, you mighta heard the sound of crying. . .male crying--the rarest kind. Nowadays Ol' Daryl, well, he looks his name, cuz people don't come to see that crouton no more, just teenage girls who want to use it for earrings. And when he and his woman aren't buying lottery tickets, he's out lookin' at that shack, just rememberin'. Yep.
So. . .any of you kids married?