Assholes Finish First

by Tucker Max;Maddox

  Girl “Uh… umm… I don’t want to?”

  Tucker [looking at her like the lying, eager slut she was] “You and I both know that’s not true.”

  Girl “OK, fine… I’ll tell you why, but don’t judge me. I had an abortion a week ago and the doctor said I can’t have sex for another week. But we can totally fuck on, like, Tuesday.”

  Tucker “All right… well, they didn’t vacuum the baby out of your mouth, did they?”

  —We were ready to fuck, but like an idiot, I was out of condoms.

  Tucker “I don’t have a condom.”

  Girl “I’m not on the pill.”

  Tucker “Aren’t you pro-choice?”

  Girl “What? I mean, yeah, but I am not going to purposely use abortion as birth control!”

  Tucker “What a waste. Why support Roe v. Wade if you’re not going to use it?”

  —This girl and I had a… tumultuous relationship. We would have sex, she would claim to be pregnant, I would call bullshit, she’d cry and apologize, I’d get pissed and ignore her… until I was horny, then I’d call her because I’m weak in the face of pussy. Rinse and repeat. The first few times it was just a pregnancy scare. Then she actually got knocked up, and I paid for the abortion. The next time she wanted to fuck, I picked her up.

  Girl “Why’d you insist on coming to get me? I have a car.”

  Tucker “I know. But we have an appointment I want to be sure you make.”

  We pulled up to Planned Parenthood.

  Girl “Why are we here?”

  Tucker “If you want to have sex with me today, you have to get a Depo shot. Or NuvaRing or something. Right now.”

  Girl “You want me to get birth control right now? I’m already on birth control!”

  Tucker “And we’ve already established that you’re a liar. If you want to fuck me, you have to do it.”

  Girl “Why don’t you just use condoms?”

  Tucker “I did, and you STILL claimed to be pregnant.”

  Girl “Oh yeah. Whatever, I’m not going in there.”

  Tucker “You’re welcome to say no, but you’re going straight home. No penis for you.”

  Girl “This is ridiculous!”

  She bitched and complained… but she got on birth control that day. And there were no more pregnancy scares (mostly because I stopped fucking her and moved onto some less demonic sluts, but whatever).

  —I fucked a girl, and afterward we realized the condom had broken.

  Girl “Oh no. Please, please don’t get me pregnant.”

  Tucker “You think I want you knocked up? If you’re pregnant, I’m going to kill someone.”

  Girl “THAT’S NOT FUNNY. I’m Catholic! And I’m not on the pill!!”

  Tucker “Why weren’t we just having anal, then?”

  She informed me that she was morally opposed to abortion, so it was a long, shitty couple of weeks until I got this text from her:

  “Hey great news! My pussy is bleeding! You home? Celebratory blowjob?”

  Clearly abortions are the least of this girl’s problems.

  —Sometimes I fuck younger girls, 18 or 19, and for some reason, each one is convinced she’s the first.

  Her “I bet I am the first girl you’ve ever fucked who was born in the ’90s huh?”

  Tucker “Oh honey… I’ve not only fucked girls born in the 90s, I’ve already had to pay for an abortion for a girl born in the ’90s.”

  I should mention that exchange took place in 2008… March of 2008. Do the math.

  —This girl was a Hooters waitress, came over to fuck a few times, and we used condoms pretty much every time… except for one time we didn’t. It’s not really my fault, though. You see, I can be a sleep fucker. Sometimes I’ll wake up horny at 3am, and if I am next to a girl I’m fucking, I’ll roll over and just start humping. I’ll only be half awake and usually won’t fully wake up until I cum. While sleep fucking is pretty common for me, sleep-putting-on-a-condom is not. It wasn’t long before I got the call.

  Girl “Hey, uh… it looks like I’m pregnant.”

  Tucker “Is it mine?”

  Girl “Yes!”

  Tucker “Of course it is.”

  Girl “It is!”

  Tucker “Whatever. I guess you want me to pay for the abortion?”

  Girl “I can’t afford it. I work at Hooters.”

  Tucker “Fine. There’s $1000 down the drain. Literally.”

  Girl “What?!?”

  Tucker “Of course I’ll pay for it. Just make sure to get me the receipt.”

  Girl “A receipt? For an abortion? What for?”

  Tucker “Aside from the fact I want to make sure you go through with it, I’m going to write this off my taxes. If I write a story about this, I can claim it as a research expense and take it as a deduction.”

  Nils made a joke about this up top, but it’s true: I really do write abortions off my taxes (as a research expense). And it’s perfectly legal.

  I’m like Sweden: Free abortions for everybody!

  THE MIDGETS STRIKE BACK

  Occurred—November 2009

  Part 1: The Tiny Little Setup

  After my first book got popular, colleges started asking me to come give speeches. These college speeches are kinda ridiculous; I get paid well into the five figures to talk for an hour, answer questions, autograph shit, and have young hot girls hit on me. Sign me up.

  I gave one at a college in late 2009, as I was finishing this book. Afterward I was signing autographs and taking pictures, and a female midget came up to me. I never know how things like this will go. The vast majority of people who approach me in person are cool and nice, but of course every once in a while you get some nut job who wants you to save her from the fucking aliens or something.

  Well, she waddled right up and said in her high-pitched, squeaky voice:

  Midget “Would you ever fuck a midget again?”

  Tucker “Are you offering?”

  Midget “Maybe. If you’re man enough to handle me.”

  Tucker “Handle you? You’re lucky I don’t stuff you in my carry-on and stow you in the overhead bin. Gimme your arm.”

  I wrote my number on her arm with a Sharpie.

  Tucker “That’s my real number, let’s see if you’re serious. But if I agree to hook up with you, you have to introduce me to Willy Wonka AND the Lollipop Guild.”

  Midget “Done.”

  After she left, I turned to one of the security people working the event.

  Tucker “Did that just happen?”

  Guy “Yeah. I never seen any shit like that before.”

  I’d never had a midget hit on me before. I didn’t even know that was possible. Even though I’d slept with one, part of me still believed that midgets were mythical creatures, like unicorns and educated guidos.

  She came out to meet me at the big campus bar. I am a sucker for a good midget joke, so I started in on her immediately.

  Tucker “Who brought their kid to a bar?”

  Midget “Hey!”

  Tucker “What, did my joke go over your head?”

  Midget “Enough with the midget jokes!”

  Tucker “Sorry, I’ll try to be the bigger man.”

  Tucker “Be honest; midgets have night vision, don’t they?”

  Midget “You’re not supposed to call us midgets.”

  Tucker “So do you prefer to be called an LP, dwarf, or freakish little munchkin?”

  Midget “LP is the correct term, but I know you’re too much of an asshole to be corrected at this point, so I’m not even going to try.”

  Tucker “You’re not mad at me, you’re mad at those kids who keep trying to steal your Lucky Charms.”

  Midget “I’m not even Irish, dumbass!”

  Tucker “Well, you’re a half something.”

  Midget “Fuck you, jerk!”

  The best part was this admission, when we were talking about the changes she had to make to her dorm room:

  Mi
dget “I had to buy a different bed too, one that was closer to the floor.”

  Tucker [jokingly] “Was it a dog bed? I bet those things fit you perfectly.”

  [Midget blushes visibly.]

  Tucker “OH MY GOD! NO WAY! I was kidding! You actually sleep in a dog bed!”

  Midget “It’s a really nice special one! I only bought it because I couldn’t climb into the bed that came with my dorm room. Stop laughing, it’s actually really nice!”

  Tucker “REALLY NICE?! IT’S A DOG BED! HOW NICE COULD IT BE? IT’S MADE FOR DOGS! If it’s so nice, where did you buy it?”

  [Midget says nothing and looks embarrassed.]

  Tucker “Oh my God. You bought it at Target didn’t you?”

  Midget “NO!”

  Tucker “Where then? Petco? PetSmart?”

  [Midget looks ashamed and hits me.]

  Tucker “Oh my God!!! You sleep in a bed you bought at a PET STORE!”

  Midget “You better not write about this!”

  Tucker “How can I? I don’t believe half of what you say.”

  This was the only real bar on campus, and it was a college crowd, so there were a ton of young and hot girls out to meet/hook up with me. It was so fucking funny to watch the midget fight with them for my attention. Every time a girl would start to move in and monopolize me, the midget would scamper under her legs and tug on my shirt to get my attention back.

  Fucking a midget is sort of like watching the “Two Girls, One Cup” video; you want to do it once to say you have, but after that, unless it’s a fetish of yours, there’s not much of a reason to do it again. So even aside from all the cute college girls into me, I wasn’t all that into the midget. If I was going to do this, there had to be another reason.

  Tucker “All right Midget, if you want to be the one to go home with me, you have to give me something cool. I’ve already fucked a midget once, you gotta up the ante.”

  Midget “I guarantee I’m better in bed than her.”

  Tucker “Probably, but that’s not good enough. I know you can take a dick in your vagina… but can you take one in your ass?”

  Midget “Goddamn right I can.”

  The bar erupted in cheers. It was awesome.

  Tucker “Nice. OK, what about ass to mouth? Will you do that?”

  Midget “OK, but let me get more drunk.”

  Tucker “Someone get her a thimble!”

  Using this leverage, I got her to take a Master Blaster pic with me:

  I SO regret not getting a pic where I held her by her ankles, like a catch of the day or something, or dangling her over a railing like Michael Jackson’s baby. Opportunities squandered.

  As you may be able to see from the picture, she is Hispanic. Midget jokes + race jokes is almost too easy.

  Midget “You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

  Tucker “Of course I do. It’s Midget.”

  Midget “That’s not my name! I knew you didn’t know it!”

  Tucker “I know, I know, that’s not your full name. It’s actually wetback Midget.”

  Midget “NO! I’m Argentinean, not Mexican!”

  Tucker “I’m not using wetback as a racial slur. I’m using it as a verb.”

  Midget “I don’t get it.”

  Tucker “You will later, at the hotel.”

  I was staying in a hotel about a mile away from the bar, so I had walked to the bar and was going to walk back. With any other girl this wouldn’t be an issue—but the midget’s legs were so short, and her knees and hips were so bad, she said she couldn’t make the walk to my hotel. And since there is no way to get a cab at 2am, I could only think of one solution.

  I put her on my shoulders and carried her. The whole way. Just like in the pic. I’m in good shape, but carrying 80 pounds of mini-whore dead weight for a mile is not easy. And she was shifting around so much, it made it that much harder. It was like doing a sandbag CrossFit workout.

  When we finally got to the hotel, even though it was 45 degrees outside, I was sweating like a whore in church and collapsed at the hotel door trying to set her down. She stepped off my shoulders and fell over like a bowling pin. Midgets are so uncoordinated.

  Tucker “I’ve never worked this hard to fuck a girl before. How is it possible I have to work ten times harder for half a girl?”

  Midget “I’m not like most girls, it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

  I have to give her credit: She lived up to her word. Whereas the first midget had been awful in bed, this one was really good. Everything you dream of doing with a midget, we did. She even got on top and spun HERSELF in a circle on my dick. Turns out it IS possible to do, you just need a cooperative midget.

  And when I say everything, I’m serious. Months later, I was still laughing about the text I sent to Nils:

  “Just went ass to mouth on a midget. Time to retire. Jesus Christ hasn’t even done that.”

  Part 2: The Greatest Threesome of All Time, and the Boomerang

  Occurred—January 2010

  Fucking a midget is awesome. I did that. Going ass to mouth on a midget is legendary. I did that too.

  Before January of 2010, I didn’t think it was possible to top those two things. How could I top them? It would take a team of Hollywood hacks to invent some ridiculous scenario that is literally impossible in real life—like stealing Mike Tyson’s tiger and putting it in a Vegas hotel room—in order to top fucking a midget at a midget convention, and then going ass to mouth on one, right?

  Wrong.

  I topped it. By having a threesome… with two midgets.

  And I have PICTURES.

  This is the story:

  The ATMMidget from the above story kept in touch with me after she slurped her poop off my dick. In mid-January of 2010, I went to NYC to meet with my publisher to finalize the release plans for this book and posted about my trip on Twitter. She called me and wanted to get together.

  ATMMidget “I’m going to be visiting NYC with my friend when you’re there. She’s cute, let’s get together.”

  Tucker “Eh, I don’t know. I already went ass to mouth on you, what else is there to do? Get to know you?”

  ATMMidget “Well, she’s a midget too, and she really likes you.”

  Take a deep breath, Tucker.

  Tucker “Are you… offering me a midget threesome? Do not tease me about this, woman.”

  ATMMidget “Well, she’s a midget. I can’t promise she’ll want to hook up with you, you have to have good game, but she’ll be with me and she’s fun. If she’s down, I’m down.”

  Tucker “Let me get these facts straight: You are going to be in NYC when I am there. You will be with another female. She is a midget. You are willing to have a threesome with her and me. You believe she may also be willing, assuming I have game. Are these statements correct?”

  ATMMidget “Yes.”

  OH MY GOD. Stay cool Tucker, don’t overplay your hand.

  Tucker “OK, I’m in. But if you’re fucking with me, I will feed you to a lion.”

  I didn’t tell my friends about this, because I was certain it was going to fall through. I’d already fucked a midget at a midget convention, then went ass to mouth on a Mexi-midget. It was expecting too much from life to have a midget threesome. No way. These things don’t happen, not even to Tucker Max.

  The fateful night came. ATMMidget assured me that she and the other midget were on their way to meet me at dinner. Secure that they were in a cab on their way to me, I decided to inform my dinner companions what was up. I was eating with my buddy Mike, my book agent Byrd, and his boss Scott.

  Tucker “OK guys, you want to stick around after dinner. I have a surprise for you.”

  Mike “Oh Jesus. What is this?”

  Tucker “Just trust me. This is epic, even for me.”

  Byrd “Am I going to come back from this alive? Should I call my wife and tell her I love her?”

  Tucker “Oh, you’ll be alive. But you won’t be the same.”
>
  An hour later, the four of us were sitting in the lobby bar at this super-nice NYC hotel, packed with pretentious NYC hipsters. I could tell the midgets got there before I saw them; a hush descended over the crowd, all the fancy hipsters not wanting to stop and stare but not being able to help themselves. I mean, two midgets were actually walking into a bar, and it wasn’t the start of a joke—it was really happening.

  As they came into view, Mike started laughing, Byrd audibly gasped, and Scott just stared, as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing.

  Scott “Are they real?”

  Byrd “Every time I think you can’t top yourself… I just, I know I should never doubt you… but, how does this… ?”

  Mike “Tucker Max.”

  Byrd “I no longer have words.”

  Tucker “Gentlemen, the best part is that I’m going to fuck both of them.”

  Actually, the very best part was that the friend of ATMMidget was legitimately cute. I didn’t realize it was possible to judge midget looks on any scale other than “for a midget,” but she was cute even for a real human.

  We all hung out and talked and drank and had a great time. They wanted some food, so I brought over the waiter:

  Tucker “This is the normal menu. Do you have a children’s menu?”

  Waiter “A… children’s menu? Uh, no, we don’t.”

  Tucker “All right, but they won’t be able to finish the normal portions. Bring us a grilled cheese and some of the chicken kebabs.”

  ATMMidget “And two apple martinis!”

  The waiter was so befuddled by this scene he didn’t even ID them.

  ATMMidget “We never get ID’d. I don’t know why.”

  Tucker “I think the drinking laws are different for mythical creatures.”

  Once everyone was sauced up and having a good time, I pulled out my ace in the hole: a bag of lollipops.

  Tucker “OK, I want you two to go around the bar and hand these out to people.”

  ATMMidget “OK, cool!”

  Tucker “Say they’re gifts from your union.”

  CuteMidget “Union?”

  Tucker “The Lollipop Guild.”

  Off they waddled, handing lollipops to people. Easily one of the proudest moments of my life.

  I didn’t think it could get any cooler than midgets giving people candy at a bar, but it did—because of how the people reacted. Hipsters are generally humorless idiots, so offending them isn’t very hard. But hipsters are also a bunch of condescending, limp-wristed, panty-waisted, pacifist dilettantes, so getting them angry to the point where they will be confrontational is difficult. Well, these people got PISSED. I could’ve stood up and called Obama the N-word, and they wouldn’t have been more upset than they were with the midgets. I guess these hipsters knew what was offensive to midgets… even better than the midgets themselves.