Fonzie’s Revenge

Fonzie’s Revenge

A reimagining of Happy Days

Written by Kenneth Keller

fonziesrevenge@gmail.com

Remember the classic TV Show “Happy Days?” You know, it starred that Howdy Doody looking Motherfucker that played Opie Taylor on the Andy Griffin Show? It also had the original MILF Marion Ross and that Dreidel playing guy who starred in the Movie Nightshift, which coincidentally was created by said Opie. Yeah, they made that Richie kid and his stupid family out to be such good salt of the Earth, kindhearted people. Everyone loved Richie and his younger sister Joni’s exploits in the cultural mecca known as Milwaukee. Shit, that Ginger and his whore of a sister were part of probably the most well-liked TV family besides the Brady Bunch that this country has ever seen. Trouble is, at least The Brady Bunch was fictitious and just set up a false image of life in the 70’s and starred a closeted homosexual. Happy Days? What could possibly be wrong with doing the same but making it set in the 50’s? You know a good question on Trivia night? It is actually a frequently asked question in those circles. “Whatever happened to Richie’s older brother Chuck?” Well, my name is Arthur Fonzarelli and I am the real life Fonzie. If you want a bullshit free version of those Goddamn Cunninghams and aren’t some woke Pansy, I will tell you not only what happened to big brother Chuck but more importantly how their entire family ruined my life forever.

My days growing up were anything but happy, let me tell you that. In fairness, life sucked ass way before Mr. C moved his family into the neighborhood. One could say that ever since my deadbeat dad moved out to California my life has been anything but hunky dory. Yeah, as my beloved Grandma Nussbaum liked to constantly remind me, my dad Vito knocked up some chick that worked at Shotz, the town brewery, and left my mom high and fucking dry when I was 3 years old. My Grandma Nussbaum, God bless her soul, was like a mother to me. My own mom was busy working two full time jobs to support us so Grandma did the best that she could do. In between sucking down Lucky Strikes faster than a Hoover Vacuum sucking up the ashes that overflowed from her Elvis Presley molded face Ash tray, how I fantasized about filling that piece of shit hoover with her older than Madusa motherfucking ashes. Let me tell you fine folks something she is as much as of cunt as Madusa used to be as well. But as much of a diseased cunt that she was most of the time I gotta admit, she tried, she really did. She tried my last godman nerve, fuck her and that Palsy Face Presley stupid ash tray. I might be the only person who ever got more tail than Elvis the Fucking Pelvis, true dat! Anyways my grandma did the best that she could do more often than not. If only Chuck had TRIED on the fateful night.

Grandma Nussbaum liked to keep things lowkey for me. Sure, she busted my balls by hounding me all the time about Vito or as she liked to call him “My Biological ooze” but she knew that when I got home from school that our home, small as it may have been, was my sanctuary. It did not take a rocket scientist to fake a Moon landing to realize that I was the runt of the liter. Perhaps it was the occasional Busted lip or Black eye or maybe it was the tears that made my eyes swell the size of Pussnboots but Grandma always comforted me by welcoming me home from school with a stale Twinkie that we got from the local Thrift store.

Sorry to get sidetracked with my family drama. This is not supposed to be about my small family that, as the pages continue to flow out of me like a modern-day Shakespeare, will get even smaller. The star of this story is Chuck Cunningham. The Uber athlete, the guy who used to give me one hell of an atomic wedgy. He also lettered in both football and course as those who watched season One of the Cunninghams version of Love American style (Google it, Gen Z pricks) you would know that he was a Basketball star. For as much of a fucking tool that he was off the court the man was able to do it all on the court. He no looked pass like Bird, rebounded like Rodman dunked like Shaq hit free throws like Rick Barry played the D like Tim Duncan and hit 3 pointers like Steph Curry. He was destined to be what players call a Unicorn like Wemby down in San Antonio. Too bad corpses don’t really ball.

In the age of instant gratification, I am wondering just how many of you have by now gone back to watching the mindless Cat videos on Facebook, the whores on Only fans, maybe you went to be playing your World of Warcraft or your Pokeman(losers), Hey I am not judging any of you pathetic simpletons. Truth is, I’d probably be vaping in my mom’s basement playing Your World of Warcraft or your precious Pakeman (Losers). I am not judging you pathetic simpletons. Yes, I’d stay at home jerking off in my spiderman Jammies just like you, if I wasn’t busy being the MotherFucking Fonz! ***** Think Danny Mcbride from Eastbound and Down and Vice Principals and even the Righteous Gemstones, this story is written with him in mind to play the Fonz. If you like this sample of the story hmu.

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Kenneth Keller

We didn't ask for bios back when Mr. Keller submitted this story in 2004. At the time he had a webpage at Geocities.com, which featured poetry. Fast forward to 2025 to read his second story!

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