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It was a cloudy Tuesday evening in Los Angeles. A silhouetted shadow walks into a 7-11 convenience store to buy some bomb ass Cheetos. It's David Crosby. He's high as fuck and all he wants are some damn Cheetos. Peter Tork of the Monkees had just gotten done smoking some good ass marijuanas and was conveniently at the same store David was at cause he wanted some Doritos cause he was also high as shit and bored with his life. Sadly, David was highly disappointed because they were sold out of Cheetos, fuck. He saw that there was one bag of Doritos left. Peter rubbed his red ass eyes and also saw that there was a single bag of Doritos left. He didn’t notice David was even there so he just straight up grabbed them, cause he was high as fuck. David was about to grab the only bag of Doritos when some bitch-ass motherfucker snatched his precious goods. Wait a second, was that Peter? Oh well.
He walked up to maybe Peter and said “YO BITCH” right in the middle of the store. Peter snapped back into reality and got fucking whiplash, “BRUH CROSBY MY BITCH. WHAT IS UP?????? Want a Dorito you little rat bastard???” Peter fucking YELLED back at him. David put on a confused look and said: “Wait, I’m high as fuck right now, but aren’t you supposed to pay for those before you eat them?”. “Naw,” A high as fuck Peter said and just walked out of the store, a now half-eaten bag of Doritos in hand. David chased after Peter, “WAIT UP YOU FUCKING HIPPIE BITCH I WANT A DORITO”. It was starting to rain. Peter looked down at his Doritos, stopped dead in his tracks and said, “Fuck my Doritos are soggy bro,”. He was completely oblivious to the fact that David was running towards him. Peter didn’t notice David until he straight up snatched his bag of soggy ass Doritos. “I don’t give a shit if they’re soggy or not, I’d snort coke off of Neil Young’s maple-covered dick”. “Ok hoe, you wanna play? I’ve probably done that to Stephen. Bet.” Peter yelled. “Hell, I’d do it with fuckin’ Paul Kantner and I haven’t seen that hoe in six months. He’s probably got Grace all over his dick right now. Do you even know him, bitch? I lived with that fucker back in ‘62”. Peter didn’t like people challenging his sexual fluidity because he dead ass was the Orgy Organizer™️, “I HAVE BEEN BANGING STEPHEN STILLS SINCE BEFORE HE WAS IN THE SPRINGFIELD THANK YOU VERY MUCH YOU PROBABLY HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN ON THAT BOY KANTNER’S DICK AND YOU’VE KNOWN HIM FOR LONGER THAN I’VE KNOWN MY FUCKING HIPPIE ASS BLONDE ASS HOE ASS TWIN YAH LITTLE TWAT.” “EXCUSE ME, BITCH. I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT PAUL IS STRAIGHT AS HELL, BUT HE WOULD DO IT FOR ME”. David got close to Peter’s face; he was straight up about to catfight Peter in the 7-11 parking lot.
Peter sighed, collecting himself. He suddenly thought back to all of the orgies he’d throw in the few years prior and he got an idea, a bomb ass idea. “I was gonna tell you to square up thot but I deadass have an idea, David… what if we threw a BOMB ass party and invited our stupid ass hippie friends; ALL OF THEM. BRO IT’LL BE GROOVY AS FUCK.” Peter suggested enthusiastically like a high ass hoe like him would. David’s lips slowly crept up into a smile. “Are girls allowed, or are you a square who can’t throw an orgy for shit?” Peter took this as a challenge and squinted at David, “Girls are allowed, bitch. Go hog wild with some bitches if you want bro. This is gonna be the most epic fucking party in California bro… bro…. bruh… shit’s gonna be epic...” He still sounded high as shit. David giggled and responded with a “Hell yeah, brother” while shoving Peter’s last soggy Dorito into his mustache. “We’ll really see who’s the bisexual king in this bitch”. Peter put an amused smile on his face and said, “Alright bitch… it's a deal. I'm gonna gather all of our music hoe friends in Cali and bring ‘em to my house. Gonna get them to bring some random ass chicks too cause we are FLUID. Probably gonna smoke another joint and call everyone up so we can get this shit goin’ tomorrow night, got it? Gather up all of your hoes, David. This is gonna be the most epic fucking party ever.” David grinned, soggy Dorito still in his mustache. “Oh, you KNOW I will Tork”. He smiled just thinking of all of the collective pussy and dick he was gonna get tomorrow night. “I’m gonna bring my good ass weed this time. Shit will knock you out for ten YEARS, bitch”. Peter had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, “Aight Crosby, gonna go home and call up my bitches. Cya’ tomorrow bro… shit’s gonna be wild” Still grinning, Peter began to make his way home to organize the wackiest motherfucking party of the whole ass decade.
David started rushing towards his house to call up all of his friends from San Francisco to San Diego, almost faceplanting into the pavement of the 7-11 parking lot from running so damn fast. He’ll show Peter that he can make this party the best of all time. At this point, Peter was on his couch, dialing all of the numbers of everyone he knew that would want to party HARDY bro. Suddenly, Stephen Stills burst through the door of his house, “BITCH I HEARD YOU WAS THROWING A BIG ASS PARTY AND I DEADASS RAN ON FOOT HERE”. Peter just said, “bro it's tomorrow.” David catapulted on his couch and yelled at Graham, saying “HOE WE GOT A PARTY AT STEPHE- I MEAN PETER’S HOUSE TOMORROW”. David actually broke the damn couch he was so excited, and Graham gave him the look. “David, how are we supposed to get our boy Neil to show up?? The bitch doesn’t show up to anything and we need our Canadian father. He is our Lord and savior and we can’t live without our fucking daddy of the North Woods.” Graham was stoned off his ass too. David looked disappointed for a second, but then he got an idea. “Oh, I have an idea, Nash. We just need to go to Walmart and get a few supplies to convince him to come”. “Perfect! Man, you have a good idea for once!” Graham said jokingly, “But really, we can summon him.” David yanked Graham off of the couch and said “My idea requires us to go to Walmart. We need maple syrup, a kiddie pool, saran wrap, duct tape, and a family-sized bag of Cheetos…. the Cheetos are for me because I’m high as hell but whatever”. Graham just didn’t even question the fucking duct tape and shrugged, going along with David’s plan. “This better work, man. We need our fucking DAD, bro.” David and Graham went to Walmart and came back with all of their supplies….and some condoms for tomorrow. As David exclaimed, “Better safe than sorry, right Graham?” Graham just went along with his stupid fucking plan because he was just as high as David was at this point. Meanwhile, at Peter’s house, Peter and Stephen were just kind of making out for no reason. Stephen paused, “why are we making out?” Peter shrugged, “because we’re gay sometimes little bitch”. Stephen was high as shit so he just smiled a toothy ass grin and said, “Cool. I wonder what Graham and David are up to bro…. Probably some wacky shit. I hope they find my boy Neil cause he’s our DAD.”
David had Graham help him set up his “Neil Trap”. First, he poured all ten bottles of true ten-dollar Canadian maple syrup into the kiddie pool. Then, he had Graham put saran wrap over the entire kiddie pool. David had the duct tape in his hand, ready for “Plan B” if it was needed. David called Neil on the phone, saying that he “had something for him”. Neil was bored as hell and ALSO HIGH AS FUCK, so he was just like, “whatever” and drove on over to David’s house. When he pulled up to his crib, he deadass just kinda stopped. He smelled that familiar smell from his home up North and was like “shit….” Dude straight up fucking hopped the fence into the backyard and saw the kiddie pool with the saran wrap covering it. “Bitches tryna kill me”, he thought. David and Graham were sitting in the bushes – duct tape ready in their hands. They were gonna get Neil whether he liked it or not. “Eh, whatever bitch”. Neil dove headfirst into the saran wrap covered pool and let the maple syrup engulf his entire body. “This is what being Canadian is really about…..”, he thought as his whole ass body was now sticky from the maple syrup. David and Graham peacefully came out from the bushes, glad that they didn’t have to use “Plan B”. David smiled and said, “What’s happening, Neil?” Neil heard the voices of his CSNY bandmates and audibly groaned. He stuck his head up through the Neil Young sized hole in the saran wrap and sighed, “Why have thou summoned me?” “Neil, we need you. Peter is having an amazingly awesome sex orgy tomorrow night and we need our Canadian representation at this party. Also, you’ll be able to fuck anyone who’s willing and there’s weed. We even bought extra syrup for you to take to the party.”. Graham fluttered his eyelashes and put on puppy dog eyes for Neil. “Pretty please?”. Neil sighed, “Fine, but only cause that seems fucking dope as shit.” He exited the pool and abruptly fell on his face and his whole body stuck to the grass.
He sighed again and said casually, “Hey.. where’s Stephen? I haven’t seen him in a while, he’s probably doing some dumb shit.”. And by god was Neil right. Stephen was still at Peter’s house, doing some pre-party sex with Peter. As a rare treat for Peter, Stephen was the bottom. He forgot how much this shit hurt. Stephen was getting his ass fucking obliterated. To assert his temporary role as a bottom boy, he yelled, high as shit, at full volume, “WHOOP MY ASS PETER HALSTEN THORKELSON.” Everyone in California probably heard him shouting that. Peter was almost in fucking tears. David, Neil, and Graham heard a faint shouting in the distance. “What in the ever-loving Canuck fuck was that?”, Neil exclaimed. Graham and David just silently looked at each other for a moment and started crying laughing. “SOMEONE must be getting their ass obliterated”, David exclaimed obnoxiously. Neil looked over at David and said, “As Graham does to you?” Graham paused and deadass said, “Anna oop“. A part of David just fucking died. That was the best roast he had heard in a while and he was having none of it. His high ass just started crying, “iM NoT a BoTTom bOY nEiL, dO I lOok IIkE a Lil bItCh tO yOu????? GraHam aNd I aRE sTRaIGht MeN!!!!” “Sure…..”, Neil said while rolling his eyes and taking a cigarette out of his pocket. “And I’m fucking Grace Slick. Like I’m ever gonna believe you two have NEVER EVER fucked.” David was still bawling like a high little baby and Graham just said, “He sucked my dick once cause I offered him coke and some Cheetos. You can bribe this dude to do anything.” David stopped crying and his soul just fucking died then and there. Bitch was gone. Neil just stood up and said, “Can I crash here tonight? I’m ‘fraid it’s too late for me to drive home. I just can’t drive in the dark while I’m high as shit, y’know?”. Before David could say shit, Graham just smiled and said, “Sure!” fully aware that that would piss David off. David was still just standing there, completely dead inside when another scream echoed across the whole ass state of California, “IM NOT A BITCHBOY”.
This scream actually went up all the way to Northern California, as it woke Paul Kantner up all the way in San Fran-fucking-cisco. He was bewildered by it, but just shrugged it off and went back to sleep. Back in the yard, David quietly said, “Was that fucking Stephen…. it sounded like our dumb cowboy slut”. “Seems to have been, y’know… I’ve been around Stephen and I-”, Neil ranted before he got cut off by the phone ringing inside David Crosby’s residence. Somehow David gathered the energy to bolt into his house as fast as possible and answer the phone, “Crosby’s residence?” Who in God’s name could be calling his bitch ass at this unholy hour? That scream that was heard all the way in San Francisco was shrugged off by Paul, but not by the one and only Grace Slick. “Hey fucker, what’s going on up there?”, Grace exclaimed in her brash and beautiful voice. David got whiplash from hearing Grace’s voice, “Grace, how the hell did you hear that scream ALL THE WAY IN SAN FRANCISCO” He exclaimed, “Also say hi to Paul for me uwu”. Grace sighed and said, “I don’t fucking know, you tell me how I heard that. I only assumed it was you and your wacky fucking shenanigans, you and that pretty boy Graham Nash. It woke up Paul too, but he’s already back asleep. I’ll tell him you said hi in the morning.” David sighed so fucking loud and angrily, “For the last time, I aM NOT BANGING GRAHAM AND HE IS NOT BANGING ME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH GRACIE MOTHERFUCKING SLICK.” He took another comically loud sigh and said, “That scream was from Stephen motherfucking Stills. HE is the bitch in this situation.” Gracie angrily yelled into the receiver, “I already told you this, do NOT call me Gracie you motherfucker-”. Paul woke up and grabbed the receiver from Grace. “David, would you like us to actually make it to this fucking party tomorrow?”. David was so full of fucking joy when he heard his boy Paul Kantner’s voice despite him being pissed, “YEs BRO PLEASE SHOW UP I LOVE YOU BYE!!!!!!!!!!!” He abruptly hung up. Paul took that as a “yes, I will stop pissing off your girlfriend” and drug Grace back to bed with him. Paul wanted to make sure that they made it to L.A. on time tomorrow, and that required getting plenty of sleep.
David trudged downstairs to see Graham and Neil snickering to each other. David’s face went red and he said, “this ain’t none of your business, thots.” Neil snickered and mockingly said “Oh, Paul. Please come to my awesome weed and sex orgy. I just miss you and love you so much and want to suck your dick”. This caused Graham and Neil to have a laughing fit. David inhaled angrily and shouted, “PAUL IS HAPPILY DATING GRACE AND EVEN IF HE WASN’T I WOULDN’T GO DOWN ON HIM. I AM NOT THE BITCH OF THIS GROUP!!!!!”
Meanwhile, at Peter’s house, Stephen was actually sucking Peter’s dick. “Boi you taste like….. Louisiana shrimp..” Peter lost his shit and said, “I THINK WE NEED TO GO TO SLEEP”. “Damn, you were starting to taste like Popeye’s chicken, but you’re right. I’m gonna crash on the couch, is that alright with you my dear?”. Peter was cracking up, “Okay my dearest bitchiest of boys, you may crash on thy couch we have cummethed on.” “Oh, thank you, my dearest Peter. My am I so exhausted”, Stephen said as he took his clothes off and retired to the couch. Peter crouched down and whispered in his ear, “goodnight cumslut”.