Announcer Doug: Welcome to the 2020 Doug & Ruckus Halftime Show, sponsored by “Take Me Out and Shoot Me” now streaming on WhoTF Cares Anymore.
Announcer Ruckus: Well, we did not see this coming. At the midway point, 2020 is a total bloody smackdown, a big stinking pile of poo (and you are welcome). It’s gotta be the worst year ever. Ever. EVER. And I’m counting that first one when you had me “cut,” times a thousand.
Doug: And we’ve got six more months to try and survive. But before we get to the absolute worst of it all – this past week — let’s look back at a simpler, gentler time: January.
Ruckus: Remember when we thought THIS was bad? Impeachment, acquittal, that diet you put us on, the 49ers lose the Super Bowl…
Doug: End of the world.
Ruckus: But we could still rip through the trash while you were at work, amirite?
Doug: We could even eat at a restaurant, if you can believe that one.
Ruckus: Remember that trip to Cabo you and Mommy were going to take for your birthday?
Doug: I sure do. Cancelled! Wide right. Swing’n’a’miss. Reeee-jected!
Ruckus: So you still left us. You roadtripped to SoCal. Smooth move, Ex-lax. (Did I do that?)
Doug: Yeah, but we rushed home a day early.
Ruckus: Home sweet home. Time to shelter in place.
Doug: S-I-P! S-I-P! S-I-P!
Ruckus: That was 108 days ago. I can count.
Doug: The big C-V-I-I-I. Gotta say, your Mommy and I are lucky to still have jobs.
Ruckus: Which now just means you lock us out and stare into a screen all day like zombies.
Doug: Zombies that give you belly rubs all day long.
Ruckus: You’re welcome. But you guys are really cray cray.
Doug: Because we speedwalk laps around the backyard 60, 80, a 100 times a day, all the while hoisting XL Jim Beam bottled filled with water.
Ruckus: The picture of perfect nutjobs. March went on forever. April flew by, I don’t remember May.
Doug: Meanwhile, my Mom’s spending every other week in the hospital, you guys are falling down like drunks walking on ice…
Ruckus: Really, you want to go there? Okay, let’s go there…
Doug: Which takes us to the two-minute warning: Late June.
Ruckus: Are we really gonna do this?
Doug: ‘Fraid so. With the clock counting down to halftime – less than a week away, our beloved Rampage took a knee and never got up.
Ruckus: I did not see that coming. I had no idea that was even possible. As much as I miss her, seriously, I don’t remember her. I’m getting a little old.
Doug: It was incredibly sad. But, wait for it: two days later, my Mom passes away. Peacefully and at home. But still.
Ruckus: Dude. That sucks.
Doug: We’ve hit rock bottom, right? Right?
Doug: Let’s get on to the second half of 2020. More sickness and chaos, sadness and fear, and plenty of glass eating and nad busting action!
Ruckus: And ball licking.
Doug: Don’t go anywhere, Ruckabucka.
Ruckus: Take it away, July!