The secret behind my immortality

I discovered this well-protected secret when I was lachrymosely wandering through a cemetery, and I noticed the snow lilies were winking at me. Of course, I winked back. I think they wanted some of my LSD, but then again, they may have actually just been evil deceivers poking my brain in a vat of banana juice and phosphoric acid. Mmmmmm electrolytes.


Proof that even cartoons have metacognition.

Regardless, one misstep later, I found myself tumbling into an open casket. In a bit of good luck, I actually landed flat on my back, in the same exact physical orientation that an embalmed individual would be positioned during a ceremonial earth-fertilizing service. Offering my precious, life-giving nitrates, I was almost one with the earth, in my fancy tuxedo and necktie. So glad I didn’t go with cremation that fateful day, because I forgot to shave my entire body, and I would hate to die smelling like burnt hair.


Good thing this guy has a purple wig ready to take that fire's place.

Anyway, it turns out this event was my very own funeral. I was late, as usual. Everybody was crying: my dumpster neighbor from the 7-eleven on 1st and central; that one guy who created everything (God); and an ape, with a consternated countenance, who was simultaneously checking its phone every five minutes as it wept bitterly for its own devilish reasons. The gravedigger appeared to be crying, too, but I think he may have just been allergic to the familiar, hairy ape.


Apparently turning into a pig, like the same animals that turned into humans in Animal Farm.

That’s when it hit me: I hadn’t unloaded on KaW in precisely one hour, four minutes, and forty five seconds!! I couldn’t enter Earth’s cold embrace with the knowledge that I was wasting the opportunity to send countless virtual soldiers and assassins to their deaths. I promptly jumped up and ran for the ape’s phone. The ape cunningly feigned fear at my lunge, dropped the phone conveniently into my grasp, and escaped, shrieking a cry that was an indistinguishable mix of laughter and contrived panic. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t realize this was the ape’s plot the entire time. The ape even had my profile loaded on the phone, waiting at the screen to attack The Grand Red Apheriun (blessed be His unholy skeletal magnificence).


Unlike any other god, he demands worship.

Remember The Allegory of the Cave---errrrrrr, I mean The Matrix? It turns out it’s real, but instead of robot overlords harvesting our thermal energy for sustenance, it’s thinking apes trapping us in an infinite loop of unloading on virtual gods while they drain our ever-diminishing sanity and wallets. So, even though I cannot die, I am forever addicted, at least as long as my troop and spy bars continue to refill. That’s my secret.

|K|a|W|- My anti-death.