It feels like I’m trapped with a bunch of roommates in some alternate logic nightmare overhearing an endless argument.
Someone wanted to clean the house before the party, someone wants to clean after the party, and someone wants the party in the garage.
Meanwhile the smell of smoke conitinues to waft through the house, there is a strange truck in the driveway, and we all hear loud noises in the garage, oh and there have been reports everyday of an arsonist rapist burglar that has burned down 7 houses in the neighborhood already.
So, one of goes on to say, if y’all did not argue with me, we’d already be having the party and the burglar would never have come. Another says, oh, I saw that burglar guy out back earlier, I love him, he’s gonna give me a flying cat that shits gold coins so I gave him the keys to the garage. And another says, let’s just move the party into the living room. But what about the burglar? Aww, there will always be burglars, what about the fire? Oh, there will always be fires. And the rapist in the house? Just lock your door and be quick when you midnight snack.
And one says, what about that other guy that hates burglars and has a burglar cage in his garage, we could ask him to get rid of the burglar?
No way, I don’t like his dog and he told us to not play our music so loud and he is boring to hang with.
Look, since the party is not gonna happen, best thing is to make the burglar arsonist our new roommate and try and ask him nicely not to start so many fires and try not to rape us. And another is like, hmmm, yeah maybe that is a good idea, we should all stick to our original plans because that is what we believe and all that matters! And shouts of
IGNORE THE BURGLAR!
IGNORE THE FIRE!
YAY HOORAY HOORAY HOORAY HOORAY HOORAY HOORAY HOORAY
PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY PARTY!
And observing, as if locked in some insane mind bendy speechless nightmare of a tumbling vomit fest
Everything in my soul screams
CAN WE PLEASE JUST GET THE FUCKING BURGLAR OUT OF THE FUCKING GARAGE!