HAPPY NEW YEAR, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!
Another day, another argument with “George” —
Hoody Hoo: I’m actually kinda pissed the ‘Pocolypse didn’t happen… now I can’t use all my skills.
“George”: Oh, like what? Like you’re gonna be Mad Max or something? Like all those fuckin’ Goth kids who think the End of The World is gonna be your ticket to the big time.
HH: Fuck you, do not! I don’t wanna be Mad Max, anyway, I wanna be Norman Arminger.
G: But what I’m saying is, you won’t. All you people think you’re gonna be in charge, you’re gonna be dead in a ditch.
HH: Will NOT!
G: Will TOO. Once the whole End of the World thing happens, there’s gonna be motherfuckers MUCH crazier than you —
HH: Not THAT much crazier —
G: Point being, there’s no way you’re gonna be the boss. To be the boss, you’d have to be all like Humongous and like eat a baby or something, and you won’t do that.
HH: Might. Might eat a baby.
HH: Fine, then I’m not saving your ass. You were on the ass-saving list, but you’re not anymore.
G: I don’t want to be in a group anyway. Not until it gets big. Small groups get you killed.
HH: But where’s the tipping point? You have to be in a small group before it becomes a large group…
G: I only wanna be in a small group if it’s way outta the way. Or a large group that’s right on the main throughfare, but too big to fuck with.
HH: But before that you’d be by yourself. You haven’t got the skills to live in the woods all by yourself for like months.
G: I have skills.
HH: Not those skills. Like, you need your small group to have a hunter, a nurse… you ain’t got all those skills.
G: I have a lot of skills.
HH: You’re gonna die in the woods.
G: You’re gonna die in a ditch.