Congratulations on Carrying on Like a Mad Man!

Skipping down the street, singing at the top of your lungs, occasionally throwing coins at people. There’s no question, you’ve caught today’s madness, and there’s no getting rid of it! Not without psychiatric care, and that’s for fucking pussies.

You’ll keep on this way past the pimps and hos, the drug dealers and street hustlers, all of whom will greet you with a friendly wave and a knowing smile, understanding that you just had a great bowl of cereal and that sometimes makes you like this. You’ll tromp down the streets of New York City (which you’d call Zoo York City in a clever turn of phrase if you could form sentences right now) until you reach a patrolling police officer. He’ll hold up his hand for you to stop and you’ll skip right into him.

“What the fuck are you so happy about?” he’ll ask, slapping his palm with his nightstick.

You’ll shrug and try to skip around him in response, but he’ll take that as an act of aggression and club you in the side of the head.

You’ll go down, hard. Real hard. So hard that you’ll spasm a little. But your mood will be so powerful an agent in the world, so great a force that you’ll reach up and try to hug the officer to let him know there are no hard feelings.

He’ll interpret this as an act of aggression as well and hit you four or five more times. But your happiness will be so strong that you’ll just keep on trying to hug him. Eventually he’ll just give up and taze you before dragging you back to the station for processing, where you’ll give everyone else waiting to be processed high fives until the cop tazes you again to get you to sit down.

He’ll be fired within a week for anger related problems.

Congratulations on Carrying on Like a Mad Man!