- Event: Refueled XLIX
An egg rolls to the edge of a counter ready to fall…
“Now science will tell you that any object falls at the rate of nine-point-eight meters per second squared due to the constant pull of gravity by the Earth. But that’s just science. What science doesn’t understand is that that egg happens to be the representation of Bobby Dean and therefore will plument at a simply un-fucking-belivable speed towards the Earth. This isn’t a fat joke either, I made all of those last time around for you to enjoy. And honestly, I didn’t even make that many fat jokes last time, never said Booby Dean even one time. Not one time. Let’s get back to that falling egg before it is too late, shall we? See, that egg is more of an encapsulation of the life and career of Bobby Dean overall.
And like the career of Bobby Dean, that egg is going to fall faster than the rate of gravity of the Earth. In fact, as it falls it accelerates towards the speed of light creating a vortex of suck all around it. But that’s just science.”
…the egg rolls over the ledge of the counter and falls towards the ground…
“Bobby, I know you’re the type of kid who got pushed around a lot at school. You wear that sign around your neck with just about every word you utter. I’m sure the bullies would hold you down and slap you across the head a bunch of times. Did they also lift your shirt and smack your budding manboobs until they were red? Yeah, I’m sure they did. I’m sure of that just as I’m sure that on the particularly bad days of your life those same bullies would pick you up and dunk that melon head of yours into a used toilet before flushing everything down and giving you a swirly.
That’s because you are you. That’s because you’re a bitch. See how that works? You’re not just a loser here in HOW. You’re a lifelong loser that accepts his place in the cosmos without ever challenging its authority. You responded to those bullies by offering to do their homework for them and in return, they’d only taunt you on that day avoiding more physical harm. You went home, locked yourself into your room and considered that a win. Now, I wasn’t about to go back and look through your record and pile up the losses, I’m not that pathetic nor do I care that much about you. Honestly, you wouldn’t know winning if you caught it fucking your mother doggy-style, so I could just name everyone on the roster and I’d probably be right. Then again, I think you already named everyone on the roster for us both.
We have nothing in common Bobby, don’t forget that.
I’m built differently. I don’t back down from the fight, I don’t retreat from the bullies. I strike the motherfuckers with chairs or bats or whatever I can get my hands on. They knock me down? I stand back up. They ban me from TV? I show back up. They put me up against Bobby Dean? I break the motherfucker.”
…the egg races for the floor and its unavoidable doom…
“Speaking of that egg, when it finally crashes into the floor it ain’t never going to be the same. Sure, scoop up the insides and put back the shell to the best of your ability. But still, it will never be the same as it once was before it fell off of the counter-top. Or was it pushed? Who can tell? Only the hands of God knows for sure. Or hell, it could have been the countless number of people who are sick and tired of being trapped in your overwhelming vortex of shame. Just give a simple shove right towards the edge and watch it fall.
Doesn’t matter to me, all I know is that I’m the floor and Bobby you’re about to meet me at an incredible speed. I don’t like your odds.”
…mere inches above to the floor, the falling egg suddenly freezes in time…
“The splat’s coming Bobby. It’s okay, you’ll be able to gather up the pieces of your shell and scoop the insides back up. But you’re never going to be the same, I’m going to make sure of that. Wait no, nevermind…
Fuck it. You’ll always be a loser. Who wants to see an egg explode anyway?”
…we cut to black.