One fine September evening, Beavis and Butt-Head went to Santa Cruz to see a J Mascis concert. They got there somehow.
The boys got in a little early, each grabbed a couple of beers, and found a spot somewhat near the front, in the center of the crowd.
“Hey, Butt-Head, look at that!”
“What?”
“This guy’s a fucking J Mascis guy. He’s, like, smashing his guitar or something.”
“What the fuck you talking about, Beavis?”
“Look, Butt-Head! He’s, like, smashing his fucking guitar and there’s sparks going all over the place.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, look!”
Butt-Head looks.
“Holy shit, Beavis, you’re right. It’s fucking going all over the place.”
The sparks fly higher. A small fire catches beneath the drum kit.
“Hey, Beavis, look at that fucking drummer. His hair’s on fire.”
“Oh shit, Butt-Head! His hair’s on fire!”
“Is he gonna die?”
“Yeah, Butt-Head. Dying rules. Die, die, die!”
The drummer looks behind him, notices the fire, and kicks at a burning cable. A roadie rushes onto the stage with a fire extinguisher.
“Whoa, check it out, Beavis. He’s, like, putting out the fire or something.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head. What a dumbass.”
“Hey, Beavis, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and smoke a cigarette.”
“Okay, Butt-Head. Yeah, watch out.”
Butt-Head makes his way toward the bathroom.
Inside, he enters a stall and lights a cigarette. A pair of shoes appears beneath the partition.
“Hey, what are you doing in there? You smoking?”
“No. Shut up.”
Butt-Head takes a drag.
“Fucking dumbass.”
The man leaves.
Butt-Head finishes his cigarette and walks back toward the concert.
J Mascis and the band prepare for the encore. The first few notes of “Electric Days” are played.
“Hey, Beavis! This is that song, ‘See You at the Movies,’ right?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, no. I mean, I don’t know. Yeah. Uh…”
“Shut up, Beavis. It is. It’s ‘See You at the Movies.'”
“Yeah, whatever.”
The band continues to play “Electric Days.” Beavis looks up and starts paying attention.
“Hey, Butt-Head.”
“What?”
“I think he’s saying, like, ‘Electric Days’ or something.”
“Yeah, dude. That’s part of the song.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head, I don’t think so.”
“Hey, Beavis.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head?”
“What if he’s singing, like, singing about the movies and the days are electric?”
“What?”
“You know, like, the days are electric and the movies are something.”
“Yep. That’s what I just said.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
The song builds. J Mascis leans into the guitar, his hair hanging over his face. The crowd moves closer to the stage.
“Hey, Beavis.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head?”
“Smash it, smash it.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head. He’s gonna smash it.”
J Mascis finishes the song. The crowd cheers.
“Hey, Beavis, that guy was pretty cool.”
“Yeah, Butt-Head.”
“Think he smashes all his guitars?”
“Yeah, Butt-Head. He smashes his guitars.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Butt-Head.”
“What?”
“Do you think he gets paid for that?”
“Shut up, Beavis.”
The boys finish their beers outside the ballroom.
“Hey, Butt-Head.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna go back in and get this guy J Mascis’s autograph.”
“Why?”
“Because he rules. I want, like, a fucking autograph or something.”
“Beavis, that’s stupid. What’s he gonna autograph? Like, your ass?”
“No, dumbass. I get the poster, too.”
“Okay, fine, Beavis. Whatever. But with what money?”
“I got money.”
“Where’d you get money?”
“Shut up, I got money.”
“Whoa. Check it out. Four dollars.”
The boys walk back into the ballroom.
Inside, a line has formed near the stage. A folding table has been set up, with posters and a few records laid out on it.
“What the fuck is all this line about?”
“Move, people, move, move.”
“Shut up, Beavis. Get in line.”
The boys stand at the back of the line.
“Hey, Butt-Head. This is taking too long.”
“Shut up.”
“Hey, Butt-Head, what if he leaves?”
“Then you don’t get your stupid autograph.”
The line moves forward.
Eventually, Beavis reaches the table. J Mascis is sitting behind it, smiling politely.
“Hey, J.”
“Hey.”
“You’re fucking cool, J.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Can I get your autograph?”
“Sure.”
Beavis places four dollars on the table.
“Can I get a poster, too?”
“Yeah, they’re four bucks.”
J hands him a poster. Beavis looks at it.
“Whoa. This is fucking cool.”
J signs the poster and hands it back.
“Thanks, J.”
Beavis steps away from the table.
“Hey, Butt-Head, check it out.”
“Yeah, I saw that, dumbass.”
“I got this guy’s autograph.”
“So what?”
“He’s gonna be famous.”
“No, dumbass. J Mascis is famous. You’re not.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot.”
“Shut up, Beavis.”
“Yeah, but I got it.”

I’ve taken a little break from publishing on the Kibitzer for various reasons nobody needs to know. Ha ha ha.

Today I’m happy to release a new piece called Beavis and Butt-Head See J Mascis Smash His Guitar.

This is the third installment in my ongoing Beavis and Butt-Head series. You can read Beavis and Butt-Head, Play Two [here], and Beavis and Butt-Head Go to London [here].

I was 19 when Beavis and Butt-Head premiered on MTV in 1993. I wasn’t the biggest fan at the time, but I always appreciated their humor and thought they were hilarious. That’s an understatement.

Today, I still enjoy the Beavis and Butt-Head universe, and I thought I’d take a turn at writing a few episodes of my own. Writing Beavis and Butt-Head episodes is a lot of fun—an understatement—but it’s also a little bit challenging. You need to be careful not to overdo the boys’ catchphrases.

“Shut the fuck up, Butt-Head.”

“Shut the fuck up, Beavis.”

“No, you shut the fuck up, Butt-Head. You’re a dumbass.”

“No, you’re a dumbass. And you’re a moron.”

“Oh, yeah? I am a dumbass. I forgot.”

Well, something like that.

These redolent phrases are a big part of what makes Beavis and Butt-Head what it is. However, as someone relatively new to the Beavis and Butt-Head game, I have a tendency to overdo them. I’m trying to keep that tendency in check, while still giving the boys enough room to be the boys.

If you’ve read any of these episodes, please drop a note in the comments and let me know what you think. Am I getting the balance right, or am I leaning too heavily on the familiar catchphrases?

Thank you, as always, for reading.

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