THE 2009 SAN FRANCISCO PRONK-A-THON REPRONK
by Binger Von Bingerstein
HURD! All that turbopronk’n of pavement, prairie dogg’n of hills and hampster wheelin’ 10-15 miles a day really paid off for Binger Von Bingerstein and P-Dinger!!
However, suspicion has it that P-Dinger might have cheated to be able to turbopronk that ‘thon in 3 hrs 4 min because Binger Von Bingerstein pronk’d just as hard if not harder and the judges say he timed in at 4 hrs 38 min.
The night before the Pronk-A-Thon, Binger Von B and P-Dinger stayed with P-Dinger’s friend, Frosty, up on Larkin Street, which is located at the top of San Francisco’s tallest hill. Only the strongest prairie dogs can pronk it. Frosty, a generous man and a big part of Team Pronk / Pants Off Racing came through huge with providing his out of town roommate’s bed for P-Dinger and a couch for Binger Von B. P-Dinger and Von B bought Frosty a coffeemaker and a toaster because they needed coffee and toast in the morning before the race. Frosty needed these two accessories anyway.
What follows is an actual conversation between Von B and P-Dinger the night before the ‘thon:
VON B: Should I pronk my cell phone to the ‘thon Dinger?
P-DINGER: Nah, leave it. We’ll meet up at the finish line and I’ll drive us back to Frosty’s in my rented Mercedes pronkmobile.
VON B: I’ll probably finish turbopronkin’ the ‘thon between 11:30am and noon.
P-DINGER: Hurd. I’ll meet you at the finish line between 11:30am and noon and I’ll pronk us back to Frosty’s. Capiche?
VON B: Capiche.
(remember this conversation)
It’s 4:45am Sunday morning: the morning of the SF Pronk-A-Thon. P-Dinger and Von B’s
nipples are Neosporin’d and Band Aid’d to circumvent pronk-chafing. Baby Powder is the prevailing scent in P-Dinger’s rented Mercedes pronkmobile (Von B’s secret remedy to avoid bum chafing – apply liberally). You could cut the tension and focus in the air with a slap chop. P-Dinger’s struggling to find the route from Frosty’s to the Pronk-A-Thon on his iphone. Binger Von B is requesting that they listen to Seal before the ‘thon. “We’re never gonna survive, unless we go a little crazy.” A motto Binger Von B pronks his life to, but P-Dinger denies Von B of his Seal fix. So instead, Team Pronk’s soundtrack on the way to the race consists of Lil’ Wayne or something like that. P-Dinger’s taste in pronkmusic isn’t his most sophisticated trait.
Von B and P-Dinger finally find parking near the starting line and the lines for the pronkrooms are several miles long, but P-Dinger and Von B wait it out to get a quick pronk in before the ‘thon. Binger Von B escorts P-Dinger to the starting line as he is in the first wave among the Kenyans and Olympic turbopronkers. Von B is in the eighth wave among the first-timers, cougars, snapping turtles and all around slower pronksters.
The clock strikes 5:30am. The pronkgun fires and P-Dinger sling-shots out of the pronkgate to turbopronk the 2009 SF Pronk-A-Thon.
Binger, in his “Go Dumb” shirt, waits an hour for his wave to start pronkin’. 6:52am rolls around and Binger Von B kicks off his turbopronkin’ with a bang! Von B rockets past every member of his wave justifying an earlier wave for the next pronk-a-thon he pronks.
Binger Von B turbopronks the Golden Gate Bridge, prairie dogs Golden Gate Park and powers through the Haight Ashbury District where psychedelic hippy pronksters cheer Binger on because they know Binger Von B’s a kindred spirit. Seeing Binger’s shirt they yell “Go Dumb!” And Binger passionately replies “GO DUMB! PRONK HARD!”
Binger soars through the finish line chute with tears of victory and glory! P-Dinger has long finished the pronk-a-thon. It’s 11am. Binger has finished early, so he figures he’ll wait a half hour or so for P-Dinger to pick him up because, as per their conversation, they were to meet at the finish line between 11:30am and noon. P-Dinger is nowhere to be found. Von B is worried that P-Dinger may be in the hospital suffering some fluke pronk injury. Quite the contrary, true colors were pronk’d when a cashless, cell phoneless Binger Von B is waiting for P-Dinger at the finish line so he can drive him back up the 90 degree hills of San Fran to Frosty’s apartment, but P-Dinger never shows. Binger Von B’s elation after having turbopronk’d that ‘thon quickly turns to fury and frustration. There sits a dejected, sun-burned, sore and frustrated Von Bingerstein waiting at the finish line for two and a half hours for P-Dinger, who is already pronkin’ his way down the 101 freeway in his rented Mercedes pronkmobile with his lady pronkbird LA bound pronkin’ a 6 dollar pronkburger from the Arroyo Grande Carly Jr. burping “tweet tweet.”
Von B is left in the lurch. What does Von B do? He gets in a cab and begs the cabbie to take him up to Frosty’s apartment with the faith that Frosty would be home to let him in so he could grab cash and pay the cab fare. The cabbie says “NO DEAL.” The cabbie was, however, generous enough to give Von Bingerstein the longest possible walking route to Frosty’s apartment. Von B ends up prairie dogging another 6 miles up the treacherously steep San Francisco hills back to Frosty’s apartment. Luckily, Frosty was home to let Binger in.
Needless to say, Binger Von Bingerstein deserves another medal for pronking a total of 32.2 miles on the day of the San Francisco Pronk-A-Thon. No thanks to P-Dinger who claims he took a half-hearted gander around the finish line looking for Binger, but didn’t see him. All is not lost though, P-Dinger has agreed to treat Binger to a juicy steak at The Sherm (Binger’s favorite eatery) to make up for his selfishness and Binger Von B has graciously accepted the offer and has since forgiven him.
Let this be a lesson to all you at Pants Off Racing. Either pronk a phone with you or drive yourself to the pronk-a-thon. Pronk hard everybody! Go Dumb!
-Binger Von Bingerstein LLC Inc. 2009 ©
