It was a Tuesday. The rain tapped on the window like a cop who forgot his warrant. She walks in — legs up to her alibi — and says, “You the flathead expert?”
(app scrolling) “Brian will drink the last of the oat milk on Tuesday and pretend not to remember.” See? Tomorrow’s problem, today’s petty revenge.
I don’t even drink oat milk.
Not yet. But the algorithm sees your future, you pathetic lactose-curious mongrel. Now hold still — I’m sending you a digital pineapple with a frowny face.
Oh, Cleveland? You mean “Canceland”? Last week he said my chili tastes like “regret and paprika.” That’s a GrudgeBook violation. Paragraph 4, subsection B: “No disparaging of slow-cooked meats.” family guy season 19 webrip
(Peter picks up a screwdriver, immediately stabs himself in the hand.)
(Peter bursts through the door, holding his phone like a torch.) It was a Tuesday
What? Why?