6.6everything You Always Wanted To Know About - S...

He thought back to the court jester he’d played in the previous segment. Being a fool was easy; the costumes were breathable. But being a modern man? That required a level of neuroticism that even his therapist found exhausting. He spent his days worrying about the cosmic insignificance of his love life and his nights wondering if his refrigerator was judging his lack of kale. Suddenly, the screen went blank. The theater fell silent. "Is this part of the bit?" someone yelled from the back.

"It’s a metaphor," he whispered to his date, who was busy trying to find a dropped popcorn kernel. "Life is just one big, oversized biological mystery that we're all trying to outrun." 6.6Everything You Always Wanted to Know About S...

"You know," she said, "for someone who claims to know everything about the subject, you seem remarkably confused." He thought back to the court jester he’d

Should we dive into a of this story or explore a different style of narration? That required a level of neuroticism that even

Woody sat in the velvet seat of the theater, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. On the screen, a giant breast was terrorizing a countryside. He sighed. This was exactly how his brain felt on a Tuesday.

Woody smiled, a nervous, twitchy sort of grin. "That’s the secret. The more you know, the less anything makes sense. It’s the only way to stay sane in a world that’s basically a series of sketches written by a caffeinated deity."

He sat back down, satisfied. His date finally found the popcorn kernel. She looked at him, then at the blank screen, then back at him.

He thought back to the court jester he’d played in the previous segment. Being a fool was easy; the costumes were breathable. But being a modern man? That required a level of neuroticism that even his therapist found exhausting. He spent his days worrying about the cosmic insignificance of his love life and his nights wondering if his refrigerator was judging his lack of kale. Suddenly, the screen went blank. The theater fell silent. "Is this part of the bit?" someone yelled from the back.

"It’s a metaphor," he whispered to his date, who was busy trying to find a dropped popcorn kernel. "Life is just one big, oversized biological mystery that we're all trying to outrun."

"You know," she said, "for someone who claims to know everything about the subject, you seem remarkably confused."

Should we dive into a of this story or explore a different style of narration?

Woody sat in the velvet seat of the theater, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. On the screen, a giant breast was terrorizing a countryside. He sighed. This was exactly how his brain felt on a Tuesday.

Woody smiled, a nervous, twitchy sort of grin. "That’s the secret. The more you know, the less anything makes sense. It’s the only way to stay sane in a world that’s basically a series of sketches written by a caffeinated deity."

He sat back down, satisfied. His date finally found the popcorn kernel. She looked at him, then at the blank screen, then back at him.