One day, Timmy became the coolest person in his school. He did so by creating a cool catchphrase. It began on the schoolyard, as most trends do...
"Wow, cool jacket." Timmy said to his friend.
"Yeah, it is!" Derek replied.
"Hey, that jacket is weggin'."
"Excuse me?" Derek looked confused.
"Yeah, weggin', it's a word I just thought of. I'm confident enough to say it."
"Wow," said Derek, "Do you think that could become part of the lexicon?
"We'll see." Timmy replied.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Timmy awoke with a start. There was commotion all around him. His mother was in the kitchen yelling. "Timmy, get down here this instant! There are reporters here and a whole line of kids waiting to meet you. You have a lot of explaining to do!"
"I...uh." Just then, an old-timey reporter with an old-timey camera fell from the tree outside his window. Timmy covered himself with a robe and ran downstairs. "Mom!" He shouted.
"Timmy, I'm worried. Are you in some sort of trouble?" Timmy's mom fixed him some oats.
"No, mom." Timmy explained. "I just created a meme is all."
"A me-me? What's that?"
"It's something that catches on online. You wouldn't understand."
"Well, ok. As long as you aren't in trouble. We've already been through this with your father."
"Mom!"
"Your father was a good man."
"Mom! Dad was a Russian hacker! He was leading a second life in the States. You were a patsy!"
"Stop it, Timmy. If it weren't for the USSR, you wouldn't be here!" Timmy looked down at his oats.
"I guess," he replied. "Now it's time to face the music." Timmy rose from his chair and brushed the crumbs off his robe.
He opened the door to a sea of flashing lights.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Timmy! Over here." The reporters shouted. "Mr. Tim! Timothy!" The crowd roared. "Can you explain weggin' for us Tim?" A reporter said.
"Are you weggigy weggity wet, Tim?" Another said, "Tim, why did you think to say weggin' in the first place?" Tim was speechless.
"Tim are you worried that weggin' will be co-opted by neo-nazi twitter?"
Tim's heart pounded faster and faster.
"Tim, Tim, TIM!"
Tim fainted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Tim awoke in a white-walled hospital.
"Where am I?"
"You're in Russia, Timmy."
"What?"
"I'm just messing with you, comrade. I mean, friend." A doctor came into view. He was wearing a surgical mask.
"Hey. I..."
"Relax, Tim," said the doctor. At this point, Tim realized he was tied down to the bed. He couldn't move his hands.
"Ok, I'm relaxed."
"Tim are you ready for a few questions?" The doctor asked.
"Yes. I think so."
"Now, Tim...When we created the meme, we weren't trying to blow our father's cover now were we?"
"What? No...it can't be...? Yakov?"
"Timmy what if I told you...in America, you can always find a party. In Soviet Russia..The Party can always find you!"
"NO!" Timmy reeled back in pain. The doctor took off his mask. It was famed comedian Yakov Smirnoff.
"Timmy what if I told you...in America, your job determines your marks. In Soviet Russia...Marx determines your job!"
The searing pain of the jokes plunged deep into Timmy's body. "Stop, please stop! I'll do anything!"
"Now, Timmy. This is what you get for drawing attention to us. The Kremlin is displeased with you and your American memes."
"I'll never work for you." Timmy said defiantly. Timmy spit on the floor in front of Yakov.
"Timmy sadly, in Soviet Russia. Work finds YOU."
"NOOOOOOOOO!" Timmy was hauled away. "I hate you dad!" Timmy sobbed. "I regret everything." Timmy was pushed through a door labeled "MINISTRY OF MEMES." He was never seen again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Wow, grandpa. Did all that really happen."
"No, I just thought of it. Cool story though, huh."
"Yeah, I guess."
THE END
No comments:
Post a Comment