Congratulations Failed Comedy Troupe Member!

Tonight is the final show of your terribly named and not very funny comedy troupe, The Chucklenauts (wittily skewered in a write-up in Time Out New York as "The Chuckle-Nots").  It'll be the final show because you're awful, and because your teammates, who are just mediocre, will decide that they no longer want to be seen with you in public.  It'll be a tough break for you, but take heart!  When you started this comedy troupe, it wasn't about humor or being on stage; it was about being internet famous, and today, while walking home from your last show ever, you're going to accidentally accomplish your goal.

See, while walking you're going to cut into a blind alley and, sure enough, a serial killer will be in there, waiting for someone to walk through so he can take them back to his Flaying Palace and rape them to death.  This particular serial killer, The Skin Thief Bandit Dude (he's bad at serial killer names), will be just hours away from being caught by the police, so you'll be discovered in a few hours hanging from a meat hook, pants around your ankles as The Skin Thief Bandit Dude buttfucks you to the tune of Seal's "Kiss from a Rose."  One of the cops raiding the site will be recording the whole thing with a GoPro and, following his dismissal the next day for unprofessional conduct, he'll post the clip to the internet.  Within hours, you'll be a viral internet sensation.

You'll never walk again, and you'll need years of psychological treatment and counseling before you're able to perform the most basic tasks again, but when you finally regain your faculties, you'll be unbelievably proud of your furtive, accidental fame.  In the end, this will be all you really wanted and, upon realizing you've achieved your goal, you'll weep for a few moments.  Then you'll go about reading the comments on each version of the video and responding to internet trolls whenever they get something wrong or insult your comedy troupe, cementing your position as the one person in the world who deserved to be captured, raped, and killed by The Skin Thief Bandit Dude.

Congratulations Failed Comedy Troupe Member!

Congratulations on Offending Everyone at Ground Zero!

Everyone loves to laugh, and people love to reference 9-1-1. So when you show up at Ground Zero to perform your award aware-of one man show, “Forgetful Freddy’s Day About The Globe,” you won’t think that anything could possibly go wrong.

You’ll begin your show, as you always do: by donning a diaper made out of the American flag and pooping your pants.

“I FORGOT!” you’ll shout at the crowd assembled to pay their respects in a baby voice. You’ll frown when they respond not by laughing hysterically but by grimacing and looking away from you, mostly at their shoes.

You won’t be discouraged, though. You’ll know that if you want to make it big you’ll have to work past such petty disagreements. So you’ll load a t-shirt gun with a photo-copy of the Constitution wrapped around your own poop and shoot it into the crowd.

“I FORGOT!” you’ll shout at them again. This time you’ll get the attention of some police who, ill at ease at the best of times, will stare awkwardly at you, deciding whether or not they should act or just get a bagel. They’ll stand there, transfixed, as you prepare for the next part of your act.

This will involve taking off your shit-filled American flag diaper while the crowd, now even more horrified, stares at you. You’ll then carefully clean your rectum and genitals with an American flag towel before winking at the crowd and laughing.

“C’mon, guys,” you’ll say douchily. “Work with me here.”

You’ll shake your head and walk towards them, hefting the shit-filled diaper in one hand while you keep your towel closed with the other.

“Shouldn’t you be able to remind me of something here? Or did you all forget too?”

You’ll laugh at your own joke as you prepare to heft your diaper towards the site of Freedom Tower in an attempt to express your feelings about the influence of capitalism on American nationalism and the direction our country has been in, but none of the people assembled at Ground Zero will recognize the validity of your self-expression. Instead the biggest one of them, a giant of a man named Hank from Missouri, will burst forward from the crowd and tackle you, covering himself and you with the feces from your diaper.

“I guess not!” you’ll cackle at him as the police officers rush towards you, bagels in hand, trying to figure out what, exactly, they’ll have to arrest you for.

Congratulations on Offending Everyone at Ground Zero!

Congratulations on Disappointing Everyone!

Today and today only you’re the guy who decided just what should go into the Made for TV version of Die Hard. Regardless of who you were yesterday you are now, at time of reading, mere microseconds from being painfully rammed into the consciousness of another being who devised such clever euphamisms as “mother father” and did all he could to recodify the story of John McClane’s night of hell so that it could be presented to whatever Hollywood thinks Middle American audiences should be like.

A note to everyone involved in today’s exercise: don’t panic. The body you’ll be occupying has an extremely delicate condition. That said, we do hope it breaks a little today, the same way it does every day as you sit and look at what your lifetime hath wrought upon the earth. Today you’ll reflect on your achievements and realize that you’ve disappointed both parents by leaving a staggering amount of physical violence in the movie and children by removing any trace of the delightful foul language they love so dearly and replacing it with what you consider to be incredibly pithy bits of dialogue that actually sound like someone with G-rated Touretttes going off.

You’ll think back on how you tried to “clean up” a movie which is basically just about a man enduring hell and killing a huge number of people and the way you neutered what was an awesome film for an entire generation, forever marring their cinematic experience by diluting awesome and replacing it with suck in a concentrated effort to make a flavorless cultural paste that can be ingested by every man, woman and child without any disagreement. You’ll think back to that and wonder why you couldn’t have taken on movies like The Shawshank Redemption and Saving Private Ryan. Why couldn’t you have ruined some classics like Schindler’s List or 2001?

For better or worse your legacy will be limited to the film Die Hard, and as you sit in your easy chair taking a bite of hard tack, watching Everybody Loves Raymond, you’ll sigh to yourself and rub your arm, which is kind of tingling for some reason.

Congratulations on Disappointing Everyone!