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Date Movie
Close your eyes.
Wait…you can’t read with your eyes closed. Sorry. Let’s start over.
I want to take you on journey with me. Today we’re going to discuss the film Date Movie. This is a Role Playing experience. For those of y’all who have never played a Role Playing game, start by refusing to shower or wear deodorant for the next 2 months, gain 120 pounds and grow the most unfortunate facial hair possible. Oh, and purchase a trench coat and/or a fedora.
Ready? OK then!
(SIDE NOTE: If at all possible, go here, Copy 'n Paste and have it read this next part to you. Awesome!)
The hill is steep, but you are determined. You adjust the straps on your pack and begin your ascent. The force of exertion draws sweat from your lungs, but you press onward. You know that over the next ridge lies what you hope to see.
As you near the crest, your tired legs protest, and your thirsty lungs gasp for oxygen. You inhale and taste the coppery taint of your throat, and underneath, another scent that you cannot recognize.
As you reach the summit, your eyes widen as you attempt to visually process the sight that greets you. Standing before you, large enough to block out the sun, stands the largest pile of excrement that you have ever in your life laid eyes on. The huge, steaming mound of feces appears to be the product of an absolutely inconceivable population of creatures, including but not limited to human beings, dogs, cats, porcupines, zebras, canaries, elephants, ocelots, blue-footed boobies, whales, snakes, orangutans, penguins, lions, monkeys, hippopotamuses, hamsters, sharks, spiders, pandas, and cows.
The gigantic hill of dung sits baking in the sun, emitting a stench so foul that animals that pass near it are observed to drop dead the moment of inhalation. Its brownish green color is less observed than experienced, and you are struck dumb with awe at the awesome majesty of what you are beholding. Again and again your mind attempts to accept what it sees, and again and again the rational part of you rejects the possibility that such a gigantic dook could actually exist. Yet the deeper primal part of your psyche urges you forward, and the glistening, bulging, sweaty mass of stool beckons you.
As you stand, repulsed, you suffer a psychotic break. With dawning horror you realize that your rational mind has left you, and your id has taken over. Screaming and vomiting, you run towards the gigantic yard pony. With your last coherent effort, you attempt to stop yourself, but this only results in you tripping over your own feet. Howling like a newborn, you draw ever closer to the mound. As your clawing fingers sink into the filth, you for the first time fully grasp the extent of the gigantic steamy pile that you are beholding. You turn your face away, but it is too late to turn back. Your head sinks into the soft, moist dune. You inhale, but your lungs fill not with oxygen, but with the digestive byproducts of so many that have come before. And still your legs push you further into the mound, until you are completely consumed by it. As your screams become muted the world moves on, content in its knowledge that you never really stood a chance. Your sacrifice is complete.
Date Movie!
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