Alright, daddies. Eyes on me. I’ve got like, fifteen minutes tops to bang this shit out before my mistress has to go and pick my kids up from preschool.
Because, Chuck, my mistress is blind. She needs me to give her turn-by-turn directions to the preschool. You know this.
Anyway, I’ve got something that’s going to blow your mi—
Because, Chuck, I got a DUI eight months ago while I was picking up my kids from preschool. You know this.
Anyway, get this: Mountain Dew, right? That’s why we’re all here. We love Dew. Hell, I know Dana over here drinks it like it’s going out of style. Don’t you, you fucking bad board room bitch? Haha, yeah she does! Look at her, she totally does!
No, Chuck. That was a joke. Crisp, refreshing taste never goes out of style.
But let’s not kid ourselves: Mountain Dew is going out of style. It is not the beverage of these times. Dew quenches the thirst of a boom economy. These are lean times, as opposed to lean and mean times. It’s a decadent, headrush bev that says, ‘clear my schedge, I need to clutch something fast til my knuckles turn the same shade of white as prebirth.’ And nothing else on earth tastes like this. We basically ushered in a 2.0 phase for humanity, and then the gods of the free market said, “No, you’re too powerful, now we’re going to jack up the economy and make being sensitive cooler than riding a BMX bike up and off of ramps. We shall don’t the Dew.”
I’m doing a fucking character, Chuck.
Sales are down, people. Despite the introduction of several new bastard varieties of Dew, like Mountain Dew Code Red, Mountain Dew Deep Purple, and Mountain Dew Salt Hammer, how do we bounce back? Do we trim a few inches off of our massive Dew dick to conform to the wants of Today?
No, Chuck, we don’t do that. We do not touch the Dew dick unless we intend to spread our seed, which we do. Chuck.
Here’s the gameplan: we punch our own heart out of our chest and build an icon around it. I present to you the new face of Mountain Dew: Mountain Dave.
Get a load of this guy. He’s all man. 100% pure American machismo. He can’t turn it down. He can only tighten his bandana, which is functioning as a tourniquet, which is keeping a nacho blood clot from reaching his brain. He needs to protect his brain because it’s racing with pure thoughts. In a word: Mountain Dave is a flying V guitar with the volume turned up loud enough to kill your parents. Obviously this is just a rough sketch I threw together. The guys in the art department can reign in the raw. That’s why we pay them, hahahahahahaha. You can’t see it in the picture but he’s beefy as all hell, and wise, and he’s fixing a futuristic Camaro.
Let’s talk advertising. Picture this, Chuck:
A thirty-second ad spot during the Prime-Time Super Bowl:
We open on Mountain Dave, punching himself in his own beefy quad:
Doesn’t matter which leg:
He’s just grunting like a mad man. Mountain Dave’s got hate in his heart:
After ten seconds he starts yelling, “I love pussy, I love pussy”:
And then variations. “I love to fuck pussy, Mountain Dave’s all horned up”:
Then right at the end:
Mountain Dave pretty much screams his catchphrase: “I am way too fucked up to drive”
Then, right at the very end:
Mountain Dave. Mountain Dew? Ha, yeah…Mountain Dew
It’s brutal, it’s virile, it doesn’t take any shit from its mistress or its shitty kids. It’s got quads like fucking Christmas hams and it calls you chief real condescendingly at the gym. See the beauty of Mountain Dave reminds us of a time when anything was possible. Didn’t matter what you wanted, you just went out and got it. You want sunglasses? Go out and get some sunglasses. When was the last time you saw someone wearing sunglasses? Mountain Dave’s got at least one pair of sunglasses, we know that for sure just based on this picture I drew. And you can’t spell “drew” without “Dew”. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care how cut you are, how hard you can dunk, you just can’t ever do the “drew” without the “Dew.” Any questions?
That was a rhetorical question, Chuck. I can’t fire you but I so want to right now.
Shit, I’m late to pick up my mistress. You clowns mind if I use the conference phone? Gonna have to do this remotely.
I support gay marriage. If two guys want to do it with each others’ mouths and butts, or if two ladies think it’d be fun to sit on each others faces forever and ever in blissful matrimony, that’s fine. I’ve met too many exceptionally kind gay people and too many exceptionally shitty gay people to not believe that, barring their proclivity for playing with whichever kind of genitals is chilling on their groins, they are exactly the same as straight people, and are therefore entitled to the same rights to pursue happiness that I am. (Of course, happiness is a myth, but I don’t think that should ever stop anyone trying to get at it.)
Maybe the most popular argument against gay marriage (after the religious one, which, come on) is that being gay isn’t natural. Now, it’s my understanding that homosexuality is pretty much proven to be a biologically inherent trait. And that’s kind of what it means to be natural, right? To occur in nature? Natural? Using this definition of “natural,” here’s an abridged list of things that are far less natural than homosexuality.
-Doritos (any flavor)
Do you like chairs? Well tough shit, because they aren’t natural. So unless you want to be thought of as a godless queer, stand up forever. Never sit down. You’d have to sleep standing up, too, because we had to invent mattresses. Mattresses were a lifestyle choice.
So basically, all of humanity is unnatural. We’re an unnatural thing. We don’t make any sense.
But then this begs the question of what “natural” even really is. I just gave my own definition for it. Merriam-Webster lists FIFTEEN DEFINITIONS, many of which have auxiliary definitions. This is problematic enough in and of itself, but look at that first one:
based on an inherent sense of right and wrong
Notice that it doesn’t say “based on what is inherently right and wrong,” because right and wrong are never objective. But then this circles back into the religion argument, which, come on.