When the tree hugger leaves the tree to visit Lindsay in her bedroom. The tree is cut down and he says "and that's why you never leave the tree."
Let me preface by saying that I only got into this show very recently, and when I say I get into something, I mean I get into it HARD. Such is why this story was made possible, and why I plan to place myself into a self-imposed exile from social interactions.
See, for the past two months, I have tried to find every possible opportunity to call my friends and significant other a "chicken", before pompously clapping my hands, chest puffed, screaming inflammatory remarks along the lines of "CAWCA! CAWCA CAW!" One highlight of these escapades includes seeing a spilled chicken sandwich on the city sidewalk. After walking fifteen seconds past it, I suddenly became overwhelmed with giddy, childlike wonder and demanded my girlfriend, who we shall call M, follow me back a few seconds.
I gazed down at the chicken, eyes wide with surprise.
"I can't believe it," I muttered. "Is that -"
"NO" M sighed.
I sprang to my feet, thunderously flapping my fleshy grabbing tools together, mouth alternating between perfectly round o's and outstretched jaw muscles, my left ankle raised defiantly in the air.
"CAWCA CAW! CAWCA CAW!"
Flash forward two weeks. I remarkably still have a girlfriend. Furthermore, I am in the company of many of our mutual friends, two of whom we will call N and H. M is complaining about her fear of dealing with various storage issues over the summer. She says she doesn't want to take a chance that she'll be able to get a sublet with proper space, let alone one at all.
H suddenly looks up, eyes wide in pure focus.
"That's funny. Sounds to me like you're feeling a little...chicken."
He stretches his arms wide, inviting me to engage with a scenario I could never have dreamed would happen.
"Coo coo ca cha!" he flippantly remarks.
I instinctively lift my hands upward to clap - and find someone else has gotten there before me.
"CAWCA! CAWCA CAW!" yells N, perched from across the room, laughing at my girlfriend's existential pain.
Adapting quickly to the situation, I raise one hand to my head, angle it sideways, and kick my legs out in rhythmic fashion.
"Cha chee cha chee cha chee cha!" I spit out with accelerated force.
My girlfriend, understandably overwhelmed by the sheer accuracy of our imitations, crumpled to the floor in a ball.
I stand over her, looming tall, flanked by two friends who had betrayed one of their best companions for a brief moment of humor.
"Ya see?" I whisper, poking her with my big toe. "You're the CHICKLET around here, pal."
tl;dr I harass my girlfriend with aggressive chicken noises
Also, the kush = Tobias, Jeff Bezos = Stan Sitwell.
When are we getting it? :(
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