He's a Good Guy, Deep Down.
There's just no getting through [to] him.
The intervention went terribly. Not only was Derrick resilient to our message, we now live in a state of perpetual darkness. Here, let me explain.
I've been worried about Derrick for quite some time. He'd been such a bright spot in my life for the first 7 billion years that I'd known him. He was so full of life, so full of energy.
When he finally did start to show signs of age it really bummed him out. He tried to fight it, tried to keep living like he was only 5 billion years old. But it wore him down, and then, last month, he suffered a complete gravitational collapse.
He pretended to be okay, but he was in a dark place. Soon it became clear that he was developing a substance abuse problem. On a typical Wednesday night, he'd have a solar system, a few asteroids, an unmanned exploratory space probe, and then maybe another planet or two before passing out.
I got together with all of Derrick's other friends, and we all agreed that this was very troubling and something must be done. So we invited him over to my place under the pretense of a board game night. He asked what I had to drink, and I said beer, and he said that wasn't good enough, so I said I might have a moon two in the back of my fridge, and he said, "Now you're talkin'!" and agreed to come over.
When he arrived it was clear he'd already had quite a bit. He was stumbling everywhere, and he didn't even say hi, just went straight for the fridge. When he didn't find anything, he was incensed. I said, "Derrick, we need to talk. You have a problem." That didn't help. In fact, it made things worse.
Diane started to say how she felt like he never listened to her anymore, but she didn't have time to finish before he sucked her in. And then Brad said, "Whoa, calm down man!" so in Brad went too. Within 15 minutes, he'd swallowed six of us whole, not to mention my couch and three of my favorite lamps.
Well, I saw that it was useless to talk to him when he was like this, so I asked him to leave. He obliged, but when he got outside he sucked in the sun and said, "Take that, losers." We haven't seen him since. But to be fair, we haven't really _seen_ much of anything without the sun.
Poor, poor Derrick. Honestly, I wish him the best.
Wear this shirt: to the all-you-can-eat buffet.
Don't wear this shirt: if you don't believe in the anthropomorphism of lunar bodies.
This shirt tells the world: "I suck, and that's okay."
We call this color: [insert easy black hole pun here]
Back to top