SATIRE

The Proof is in the Pudding, Kevin

The search for Edgar Allen Goat

Instead of taking your word for it, I actually looked.

I went to the fridge, took out the giant tub of pudding, and I plunged both my hands in. Up to my wrists in cold, gooey — and dishearteningly chunky chocolate pudding.

Nothing.

You laughed and said you got my goat.

But there’s no goat either, is there, Kevin?

I thought you were holding it for ransom. I still don’t forgive you for that. I even named him.

Edgar Allen Goat.

Remember when you suggest I kill two birds with one stone when running errands?

I didn’t get anything done that day, much less any errands. Not only are birds fast as shit, but I’m surprised all I got was arrested.

No — Ms. Larson does not look better with a glass eye, Kevin! By the way, I know you took the bail money out of our savings for Danny Devito’s OnlyFans.

Come to think of it, you still owe me a birthday cake. I had every right to have the cake AND eat it! You must have ruined a lot of birthdays, you fat bastard!

It might be frustrating and sometimes even entertaining — for you — But I have realized one thing while with you —

A good man IS hard to find.