Believe it or not.. I'm still in DS3. Here's the next challenge to get to the final two:
You have just received a shocking letter from your parents. Thanks to one of those bizarre twists of fate, you have a long lost sister/brother that you never knew about until now. And in another one of those bizarre twists of fate it is one of your fellow survivors. Since you are the writer in the family (obviously!) your parents have put *you* in charge of contacting your new brother/sister. So the Immunity Challenge is:
1) WHO is the Survivor you are related to, and
2) WHAT do you say to them?
There's no other way for me to tell you this. So I'll just come out and say it.
YOU'RE MY MOTHERFUCKING BROTHER!
I. Could. Not Believe. It Either.
But now that I think about it, it makes sense; there are so many things that we have in common. We both use the word FUCK alot. I've noticed that 'yo' is a phrase that you do not shy away from even after its tragic death in the early 90s. People get my gender mixed up all the time. The list goes on.
Today I went to the bank. The bank teller guy said, "May I help you sir?"
And I said, "HEY MOTHERFUCKER! LOOK AT THESE FUCKING PAIR OF TITS RIGHT HERE, YO! THEY MAY NOT BE THE BIGGEST BUNCH IN THE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD, BUT DAMMITALLTOHELL, THEY ARE LICK-A-LICIOUS! TOO BAD THAT YOU CAN'T RECOGNIZE A FINE PAIR OF RIPE PLUMS WHEN YOU SEE THEM, BASTARD. THESE ARE THE BEST MOTHERFUCKING TITS IN THE ENTIRE BANK!"
He was all quiet and just handed me my bank statement. Motherfucker.
So. I really don't know what else to say to you.
Does your left testicle hang lower than your right testicle? Apparently large left nuts run in the family. Feel free to check this fact later if you choose. Or check right now, I don't really care, because they're your testicles, not mine. I've got this lop-sided labia to deal with.
The folks didn't really give me the full story on how we were split-up or where you were conceived. I'm assuming it was during another one of their drunken nights in Chicago. You know how hot Mom is and what a stud Pops is.
Oh. Wait, no you don't.
Well, Mom's a hottie.
And Dad's got one big ol' left nut.
It was, most likely, a night of passion and "whack whack whack" sounds pounding in rhythm with Elton John playing in the background.
They always 'did it' in front of the television, which explains your love for all things pop-culture and my near-sightedness. Someone should have warned them NOT TO COPULATE SO CLOSE TO THE SCREEN. But two crazy hippies in love aren't going to listen to your closed-minded ways, man. If they wanna fuck during "All In The Family," they're gonna do it.
You really didn't miss much as far as growing up with us. For some reason or another, Mom and Pops packed up and left Chicago before I was born. I guess it was right after you were born.
I do remember being in utero and hearing Mom say, "Oh, damn. We forgot the baby." Dad responded with, "MOTHERFUCKER!"
But I was just a fetus at the time and thought he was talking about himself, so I didn't really think much more about it.
I know you probably really don't give two small shits about this, since it was about two months ago that you even thought about this contest that was BENEATH YOU. Don't worry, you haven't missed anything. (Besides the entire long lost sister thing. Oh, and the background to your large left testicle.) I'll start reading Entertainment Geekly more often now that I know that you're like, blood and what not. But, then again, if I don't I know you probably won't care.
It's nice to have a brother that understands my apathetic side.
Until I see you at the next family reunion, which you probably won't even be invited to because we don't ever have family reunions...
Love? No. Too personal.
Sincerely? Ach. This isn't printed on letterhead.
Laters? No, you'll just make fun of my non-trendiness....
ROCK OUT WITH YOUR COCK OUT FUCKER,