Note: This article is satirical.
2,269,740 minutes. That’s how long it’s been since the Ingersoll Reckoning.
Really think about that number. That’s 136,184,400 seconds. Now think about what would happen if you doubled it. We can’t do it ourselves, because our calculator is broken and/or a toaster. But if we could do the math, you would know that it’s a very big number. And the last thing we want is for that number to be the number of seconds between the Ingersoll Reckoning and the day we finally sit down, all of us, together, as a family, who love each other and are always there in times of financial duress, to have a frank discussion about birthday parties. #136184400IsEnough
So let’s have it. Right now. Here. Together.
Now, we all know what happened on the day of the Ingersoll Reckoning. But because we’re paid one cent a word, we’ll rehash it anyway.
The year was 2008. Tony Frank’s 45th birthday party was in full swing. Balloons were flying, children were laughing and Cam the Ram had only trampled three people so far. So all in all, it was better than his 44th, during which balloons were deflating, children were crying and Cam the Ram had sadly not trampled anyone.
Midway through the night however, came the chaos. People were screaming, children started crying and flying all over the place like crazy balloons, and Tony Frank never stopped opening presents. After all of the chaos was done, the smoke cleared and Tony Frank was all tuckered out in the corner.
While the events of April 24, 2008 remain a mystery, we do know that it happened because Tony Frank had a birthday. And while we may not know where babies come from or what happens when we die, we do know that we all have birthdays. And it’s time we talked about how none of you came to our party last week.
We were dressed in our prettiest gown. And though it really had to stretch to fit all of us, we really did look quite fetching. Which made it all the sadder that we were waiting, alone in our lighthouse office.
It really did hurt that none of you bothered to attend. Not even you, sweet Amanda. Or you, beautiful Andres. We were really banking on all of you showing up, but all we got was a dumb old Slip ‘n’ Slide, a G.I. Joe action figure and the necronomicon. We can only raise the dead so many times before it loses its pizazz.
And so now, on the anniversary of the Ingersoll Reckoning, it’s time you guys throw us a second birthday party. And please, bring cat food. Spanky the Cat likes Tuna, and we are partial to Livered Chicken.
We’ve only had Spanky for 604,800 seconds and we’re pretty sure his birthday is coming up. Do not let this cat die. Your move, family.
The Hall Monitor-Herald is written by Lauren Funai, Niles Hachmeister, Chris Vanjonack and Andrew Walker. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. Please send money, this article only made us 82.8 cents.