GYSO Reviews Part 90 - Thim Apologizes

Published: 2026-04-19

Snag’darr puts down the newspaper. That is, a single claw rips through the entirety of it and he gives up trying to read it. Too much money to buy a new one, and too much drama if he goes all ‘big scary dragon’ to just take one.

Henry: nooo! i was going to read that! :O

Bunny: You can read mine, plant thing.

Henry: you have the newspaper, bunny?

Bunny: I have seen into the news, and can recount it in full using my bunny powers of memory palaces.

Henry: uh uh. prove it.

Bunny: I don’t need to prove anything. The proof is in the pudding.

The pudding, on the table of the GYSO Mansion Playboy Mansion Kitchen Dining Room Table, jiggles, revealing another insipid news fact about the world. The president of Vuvuzela has grown a second head, currently in contention for next president.

Henry: wow.

Snag’darr: I hate it here. Why this reality?

SUDDENLY! Everyone remembers that Thim is there too!

Thim: I’m here. Hello.

Thim picks Bunny up, putting the wittle furball on his shoulder.

Thim: Bye.

Snag’darr: Right. Where was I? Hating? Let me tell you how much I hate…

A person stands outisde the GYSO Mansion Playboy Mansion stands. They’re holding a media breifing inside their media boxer-briefs. Gross.

Sara: Yes, that is true. After that, the delivery person left the vicinty of the mansion. Next question.

Journalist: Yes, hello.

Sara: You said hello three times already. Get on with it. I have to deal with that wordplay crap from everyone else in this mansion, and I’m not about to deal with it in the media too.

Journalist (sweating): So my question is in regards to the content of the phone call placed between the Mansion and the Heavily Armorded Pizza Place(tm).

Sara: Shoot. Please, shoot me.

Journalist: Is it true that the sentient plant known as henry asked for a pizza with dirt?

Sara: I believe that’s true.

Journalist: Do you believe that dirt pizza is something usually offered on the menu to other customers, or is that a privilege of power that the immortal man Thim has, placing themselves above, or beside, the rest of us?

Sara: Do you think a normal pizza place’ll deliver here? What kind of insane questions are these? You do know the crowd of misfit half-baked characters that live here, right? Aren’t you all wearing armored clothing for a reason?

Journalist: But ma’am, that doesn’t mea–

Sara: Alright, listen here you little shit. One thing you can do when you pay a lot of money to a chef is to have them cook meals for you. Okay? So if they don’t want to deal with that, they can refuse to sign the contract, and we’ll find another pizza delivery service. Simple as that.

Journalist: Still, doesn’t that drive home the point that here is an unfair escalation of privile–

Sara: Alright, listen here you litt– wait a second.

Sara reaches down below the speaking podium, pulls up a half-finished board of chess with the pieces glued in place, ponders it for a moment, says “Ah. Rook to B69.” before suplexing the board back down.

Sara: And that’s my quota for doing something weird for the day. Look, the only thing getting driven home here is pizza. Last night. To this address. From a restaurant. Why are we having this media boxer-brief meeting? We are fully committed to addressing the issues with Thim that have surfaced as this call has leaked. And by ‘address’ we mean that he’ll keep doing whatever he wants with no way to stop him, and we all just have to deal. Capische?

Journalist: Why are you addressing the issues first now, instead of dealing with them earlier? Aren’t you guys around him all the time? Don’t you try to tell him–

Sara suddenly gets a dead look in her eyes. She twitches.

Sara: What? You want in on this shit? Fine. We’ll do an intervention, then! Buckle up and get your questions ready! You won’t be using them.

Walking out of the mansion, Thim tries blocking the sun, but fails hilariously. Tomatoes and pizza dough are thrown frivously by the legally distinct Mario Brothers, who dissapear the second they’re looked at, spectres of the past coming to haunt the words of this blog for a single butthair of a moment. They stopped adventuring to move into the city and run a pizzeria, but now they’re dead, because YOU read about them. Monster. Fiend. Murder in cold blood. They had dreams. Families. History. Allies. Friends. Enemies. A thriving buisness living their dream, sharing their culture and culinary craft with the people of the city. They meant something to the community. You. You killed them. It was your fault. Right when the green one was going to run for president of the local pizzaplace association. Our dragon lawyer will be in touch. A curse upon thee. Seven days.

Thim: Ahh! What a great day to be me!

Bunny: Father, look.

Thim looks, and scowls. It’s a crowd of people, some with mics, some he even lives with.

Thim: What the funny fun fuck is this? An intervention?

Bunny: This is an– why, yes, it is, father.

Thim (groaning): Ugh. Let’s just get this over with. I “apologize” for whatever the fuck you think I did! Are we done yet?

The crowd cheers. They holler. A spontaneous party erupts all throughout the city, and all throughout the world as they watch the live broadcast with bated breath. Victory!

Thim: And if you believe that, you’re a total sucker.

Streets empty, confetti burns to ash, pinãtas implode, taking all their candy with them, and business attire forcibly strangles three people and one monkey.

Thim: Because I really share your concerns about my behavior. Totally. I’m not just trying to leave so I can drink more straight, concentrated caffeine mixed with vodka.

Parliament erupts in cheers, destroying the roof and damaging its foundation (hundreds injured). Volcanoes erupt. Mt. Hungolomghnonoloughongous shudders in orgasmic bliss at the new twist to this anime plot.

Thim: And my promise to you is that I won’t change a single faucet about myself or my behavior. You’re welcome, world. I am your piss fountain– No wait, you are my piss fountain.

Night immediately falls without pretense or warning, tides turn with irrepairable consequences. Vampires come to life and instantly fall asleep because it’s nappy nap time. Depression is cured because I fucking said so. Who do you think you are, huh?! Don’t talk to me in that tone of voice, mister! Don’t you forget what you did, you heartless son-of-a– I can’t even look at you, after what you’ve done.

Thim: So with that said, I’m more than happy to return to how things have always been. Character development is for poeople who think in terms of years and decades. I’m immortal, though, so fuck all y’all.

Thim does a humping motion in his media boxer-briefs and fuzzy pink bathrobe. Boo ya. Day returns. Tides are restored, violently and at gunpoint. Mt. Hungolomghnonoloughongous goes back to its dormant state. The world is not okay, but at least the big guy didn’t fuck it up even worse. Today.

The North Dong circulates above them, casting a great phallic shadow on them as it boxer-briefly blocks out the sun’s light.

The dies.

The end.