"Okay, so you remember that Ren and Stimpy where Ren goes all batshit on the happy helmet and almost rips Stimpy’s throat out to satiate the savage beast that a week of forced joy creates before realizing (in one of Nickelodeon’s most blatantly subversive “aaaaahhh” moments) that he, in fact, “LOVES BEING ANGRY!” so imminent slaughter is swiftly supplanted by TV’s first genuinely tender interspecies kiss?
Yeah. This is like that. Only bitter and fatter and noisy and from Texas and whereas John Kricfalusi was playing social commentary with the Prozac nation providing those of us of the age to spend our Friday nights watching that show and going “Whoooaaaa” while our parents wrote letters of apology they would later read aloud in therapy for all the guilt they must have laid on us a manic fucking song Total Abuse want to knock you down, rip your fucking teeth out and bring them home to use as ben wah balls on their thirteen-year-old girlfriend.
Just one…for all four of them.
And fucking NO ONE is getting kissed that night.
No one’s ever making out again. We’re just going to sit around and draw skinheads humping dead dogs and listen to the Brainbombs and talk about how if they only knew how we had it down south they wouldn’t be so kind to women. Only we won’t be talking. We’ll carve it into each other’s skin, call it poetry and later say in prison interviews that the Slayer kid was a pussy.
IT’S ALL FUCKING RELATED, OKAY!
And not just because.
There’s always a reason."