Whoa. Wait. Are you guys talking about Breaking Bad? I hate to be obnoxious, but could you please stop? I know the series finale was just on and there was probably a lot of crazy stuff you want to discuss, but again, please stop. I haven't seen it yet. You all watched it live, but I didn't. And before you start asking questions, no, I don't have a good reason, but I'd appreciate it if you'd stop ruining it for me.
No spoilers! No hints! I don't want to know a thing. I'm just trying to enjoy a scheduled show at my own glacial pace. Is it too ambitious to expect you guys to follow along? I already can't look at twitter or anything else on the internet, and now you're selfishly having a conversation in my general direction.
Stop your Walt debates! Stop your breakfast chat! Who is Heisenberg? You're talking about things so far ahead, it's confusing. I'm just not ready to go all the way with the show, and you're trying to force it on me. Wow, what great friends! That was sarcasm, FYI. And I thought Walt was supposed to be a caring person! That wasn't sarcasm. I really thought that until some Youtube comments told me otherwise. Since then I've secluded myself from society. I've unplugged my modem, I do not read the news. I live like they did in the 90s, and it totally sucks. But it's worth it. Anything to keep the spoilers away, anything to protect this precious bubble.
So what's so hard for you? Just act like you never watched it and you're as in the dark as I am. We could play a fun game where we never even heard of the show. "What's Breaking Bad," we'd all say. It'd be funny. Then, once I finally catch up sometime in 2014, we can have all these great conversations you want to have now. So go ahead and bottle that excitement up for now. That'd be great for me.
I mean, I could have watched them earlier, sure. AMC broke the season in half and spent months hyping the big finish, but I chose not to. If they can drag it out, why shouldn't I? It'd work a lot easier if I could just convince everyone everywhere on the planet to stop talking about it for awhile.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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