GYSO Reviews Part 61 - Meet the Beachhouse

Published: 2025-03-09

Thim, Henry, and Bunny sit and watch television in the GYSO Mansion living room. Bunny flips it to the Shopping Channel.

Geoff Beachhouse: Welcome, one and all, to this special late-night special! Here on the Shopping Channel, you can buy an all-expense payed (by you) trip to Hell!

Bunny: We should go.

Henry: But all the fire and brimstone and screaming will mess up my plant-like complexion! :O

Thim: No, Santa froze over hell a while ago, remember?

Static whines as the broken television desperately tries to do its job.

Geoff Beachhouse: I’m Geoff Beachhouse, coming at you live from Hell beach resort! Make sure to call 1-800-HELLLLLLLLLL, that’s ‘HELL’ with ten L’s, remember, ‘HELL’ with ten L’s!

Bunny hops off Thim’s shoulder to hop towards the wall-mounted rotory phone that totally exists now in the GYSO Mansion living room.

Bunny: We really should go, father. Do you not crave vacation? The release of stress associated with beach resorts?

Despite being able to stick to Thim and jump onto his shoulder unlike any living being, Bunny is unable to jump high enough to operate the rotary telephone.

Thim: Nah, man. I got shit to do. Like doing nothing, you know? Vacations are too much work.

Thim overlooks the seeable part of the GYSO Mansion–which is most of it considering the destroyed walls. The door is finally fixed tho! The Snag’darr roof entrance is patched up. The kitchen is clean because Henry is running it–soon it’ll be part of the GYSO track team. There’s electricity in the bathroom – little did you know that Thim had been using the bathroom in complete darkness since Thor and Tim died. The basement is… actually, let’s not talk about the basement. Instead, check out this based mint (sponsored by The Shopping Channel)!

Thim (chewing a based mint): On closer thought, maybe you’re right. We have it better than ever here. Let’s fuck something up.

Thim throws his lit match and molotov cocktail out the window, beaning a delivery boy in the forehead. Nobody cares.

Henry: So we can go?! Can we! :D

Thim: Yeah, sure. I can pretend to have money and buy this I guess.

Both the plant and Bunny cheer at this. It’s pretty quiet, considering their lack of and/or tiny vocal cords.

Thim, groaning like an old man, rises from his throne (the couch) and shambles to the wall-mounted rotary phone.

Thim: What the hellllllllll was that number again?

Geoff Beachhouse: That’s 1-800-HELLLLLLLLLL you moron!

Thim (snapping his fingers): Now I remember! It’s 1-800-HELL-TIM-TIMES!

(incoherent screaming from the broken television, rustling the burgeoning beehive resting within)

Thim, Bunny, and Henry ‘walk’ up to the gates of hell.

Henry: Why’s it so cold here! :O

Thim: I told you to bring a coat, but nobody ever listens to Thim.

Bunny: My fur is succulent and warm, father.

Henry: Succulent? Huh?

Thim: Thanks for that image, buddy.

Bunny is the slowest in the Crew(TM), dragging a giant suitcase with the cutest little harness you’ve ever seen made for a bunny with a harness to carry a human-sized suitcase with using a harness suitcase harness.

Henry: Gee, you really brought a lot of stuff here, huh?

Bunny: I am going to collect artifacts, green fern.

Henry: Gasp! You can’t say that! I didn’t give you the fern-card!

Bunny: Some of my best friends are ferns.

Thim: Okay, calm down now! We’re at the reception.

With a groaning creeeeeak the under-payed and disenfranchised gargoyles open the gate. Standing in the doorway is none other than…

Geoff Beachhouse: Welcome to Hell! I hope you enjoy–

Thim: Shuddap. If I wanted to be sold to I would have watched the Shopping Channel.

Geoff Beachhouse: …Okay! We strive for the best customer service–

Thim: Listen, Boathouse, I want two things on this vacation. First: booze. As much as you can siphon into my maw. Second: None of your bullshit. I’m here to relax, not go on a great adventure or whatever. Not sober, at least.

A tourist family walks past them and starts pointing and hollering. The dad pulls out a camera from his fanny pack to snap a picture of Bunny’s cute harness to pull his suitcase with his harness to get the suitcase from the–

Tourist Dad: Say “EAT BEES!”

You know the saying “When you take a picture, it takes a million words to describe the same thing that the picture that has been harnessed taken of harness suitcase”? Yeah, Thim is definitely not photogenic enough to warrant such a descriptor.

Thim: AAAAAAHHHHH!! BEES!

Thim: Wait. I’m afraid of eels, not bees.

Henry: Yeah I love bees!

Thim: You would say that, huh?

Sitting on a beach chair by the hotel pool, Thim is sunbathing and wearing a facial mask upside down, with an entire whole cucumber superglued to his chin and everything. There’s no one but the Crew(TM) around, partly because the pool is tiny and filled with vodka. Turns out, Hell is great at fulfilling vices. Whoda thunk it.

Bunny is floating on a floaty shaped like a gold metal medal harness, and Henry is floating in the water in his pot.

In the center of the vodka pool is a fountain. It’s of two golden statues copulating–it’s pretty fuckin’ metal.

Thim: CAN YOU PLEASE SAY THAT AGAIN, HENRY, I CAN’T HEAR YOU OV–

Geoff Beachhouse: For the last time I’m not a plant!

Thim: WHAT?! I KNOW YOU’RE MY PLANT! EITHER THAT OR YOU’RE THE 56th PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES: BABE RUTH!

Geoff Beachhouse: I’ll just leave! Fuck this upcharging shit! Ugh!

Thim: …is he gone?

Henry: Yep!

Bunny turns down the single continuous bass sine wave playing over the loudspeakers. Modern music, amiright? To bad they can’t call it a life hack in Hell–mostly because that will get them thrown out onto the ‘life hack’ roller skating ring and only one of them has the right anatomy to wear roller blades and carry a bunny and a potted plant at the same time with a harness and a suitcase for the bunny harness and a plant harness suitcase.

Sara and Snag’darr sit in the GYSO Mansion living room, staring at the broken television.

Sara: I really should fix that television.

Snag’darr: Shhh! The bees are bumbling!

Suddenly! Static sounds out of the broken speakers, and a voice comes out.

Geoff Beachhouse: bzzzt! So, Thim, how’re you enjoying Hell? Great place, right?

Thim: It’s pretty mid, tbh. There’s vodka enough, alright–or ‘enough vodka’? I think–but that shit just goes right through my system like shit through my system, you know. So it’s constant diarrhea for basically no reason other than to drink vodka. Which, in and of itself could be seen as a terminal value, akin to breathing air and living. Truly, we live in the ideal universe. But most of all, Hell makes me miss home.

Geoff Beachhouse: I didn’t take you to be the philosophical type, Thim!

Thim: I didn’t take you to be the type to keep me away from my vodka with insipid interviews, Bathhouse. Guess we’re both full of surprises today.

Sara: I guess that answers the question “How is Thim doing in Hell?” I wasn’t asking the question, but now the Shopping Channel answered it.

Snag’darr: I honestly didn’t know what I expected. Or, well, I knew I expected this kind of thing, but the specifics–

Gargoyle (deadpan and uninterested): Enjoyedyourstay?PleaseremembertorecommendHelltoafriendandrateusonTri–

Thim: I will sic Bunny on you if you dare ask me to rate anything ever again.

Gargoyle Two: …Remembertogivefivest– AAAHHH!!!

The dies.

The End.