You grab the case of Diet Mountain Dew and head up to the front. You pay and exit the store. The sun forces you to squint as you stagger into the parking lot. After two steps you're struck by a car. Hard. You fly back.
When you open your eyes, you're surrounded by a group of people. In the distance you can hear an ambulance approaching. You reach for your head and feel crusted blood. The police start asking you questions, but you insist that you need to get home for a raid. Where is your soda? Where can it be? You force your way out of the circle only to find it open. Twelve cans, leaking and smashed, rest around the parking lot. You manage to collect two cans with only minor damage. That's enough. While stuffing them in your pocket, you check your watch. Fifteen minutes. You can sign on in time if you hurry home now. Without telling the police or the ambulance crew, you start running home.
Though the cans swing and slow you down, you manage to out maneuver the police. At home, you swing the door open and run straight up to your room, hit the power button, and watch it start up. Once it is started and you're logged in, you head downstairs to put the soda on ice. You open the cans open and pour them into a large glass. It tastes like piss, but at least you can focus on the game now. As the last few drops splash into the cup you take a closer glance on the can. Diet Caffeine Free Mtn Dew. Fuck
Did Louis C.K. jerk off in front of two female comics? And why are these ladies squandering an opportunity to learn from a comedy legend?
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.