[I stumble into the living room and sit on the couch next to my alter-ego, who is wearing pajamas and watching old YouTube clips of The Tom Green Show on his laptop]

Me: Are you seriously watching Tom Green right now?

Alter-Ego: Sure, what’s wrong with that?

Me: What’s wrong with watching Tom Green in 2018? You don’t find his humor to be a little…dated?

Alter-Ego: Obviously not. Great comedy transcends time.

Me: I’m aware of that. I wouldn’t exactly classify Tom Green as great comedy, though.

Alter-Ego: What are you talking about? Here, watch this clip of him ordering a sandwich from Subway. It’s goddamn brilliant.

[My alter-ego shows me the following clip]

[I sit on my side of the couch, eyebrows arched high and my forehead creased in a “what the fuck did I just watch?” expression]

Alter-Ego: See what I mean! Brilliant.

Me: What the hell are you talking about, brilliant? That wasn’t brilliant. That was a fucking one note joke that wasn’t even funny to begin with. That’s funny to one person and exactly one person only.

Alter-Ego: Dude, it’s got 850,000 views on YouTube. A lot more than one person finds it funny.

Me: That’s not what I meant. I’m saying that this type of humor is remarkably self-serving. It’s not really funny to people watching, and it’s certainly not funny to the person who’s essentially being pranked. It’s just funny to Tom Green.

Alter-Ego: And the 850,000 other people who checked it out on YouTube.

Me: Whatever.

Alter-Ego: I don’t know, man, this feels personal. What did Tom Green ever do to you?

[I shift uncomfortably and avert my eyes to the ground]

Me: Nothing.

Alter-Ego: Doesn’t feel like nothing.

[Momentary silence]

Me: He broke my heart, okay?

Alter-Ego: The fuck? What, like you came a-courtin’ and he spurned your advances?

Me: No man. Freddy Got Fingered.

Alter-Ego: Who fingered who?

Me: No, Freddy Got Fingered. It was a movie he did. Like, back in the day when he was doing this stupid TV show you’re watching.

Alter-Ego: Oh yeah. I seem to remember something about that movie and sausages.

Me: It’s, “Daddy, would you like some sausage!” He’s singing that while he plays a keyboard with a bunch of sausages tied to it.

Alter-Ego: It’s like… I kinda remember….

Me: Here, let me show you.

[I grab my alter-ego’s laptop and pull up the following clip from Freddy Got Fingered]

[My alter-ego sits on his side of the couch, eyebrows arched high and his forehead creased in a “what the fuck did I just watch?” expression]

Alter-Ego: Wow, that’s crazy. Like, hard drugs crazy.

Me: I think it’s just that he’s Canadian.

Alter-Ego: That would make sense. So wait, how did that break your heart?

Me: Because for some stupid fucking reason that I can’t identify, I used to love the shit out of Tom Green. And it’s a really weird thing to have to go back and acknowledge, because I watch it now and it’s like, “how the fuck did I ever find this funny”, you know? But regardless, I loved Tom Green and his stupid, shitty comedy at the time, and so when that movie was announced, I was over-the-moon excited for it. And even when the reviews came out and just completely fucking trashed it for not even really being a movie, I was still all ready to defend it. Then I watched it. And you know what? They were absolutely right. Absolutely, goddamn right. It wasn’t a fucking movie at all. I mean, there I was, all ready to laugh at my boy Tom Green, and then he just goes and takes a huge metaphorical steamer all over yards of celluloid and it’s just like, don’t disrespect the medium like that, you know? If you’re going to stoop to crap comedy, just leave it on video and don’t waste my ten dollars and my 90 goddamn minutes.

Alter-Ego: This has stayed with you for a while, hasn’t it?

[I respond with silence as my alter-ego grabs the laptop back and returns to searching for more Tom Green videos to watch]

Me: I wonder whatever happened to him anyway?

Alter-Ego: I don’t know but he’s probably doing well, living off that fat Drew Barrymore alimony.

Me: What?

Alter-Ego: Well, no, that’s not to say Drew Barrymore is fat. I mean, maybe she is, I don’t know, I haven’t seen in her in anything since that rollerblade thing she did that went nowhere.

Me: No, I get that, but what does Drew Barrymore have to do with anything?

Alter-Ego: They were married.

Me: What?

Alter-Ego: Yeah.

Me: Seriously?

Alter-Ego: No joke.

Me: Really?

Alter-Ego: If you ask me again, I’m going to stab you in the neck.

Me: Naturally.

Alter-Ego: The point is, you’re annoying me.

Me: Understood.

Alter-Ego: I’ll never understand how we share a cognition together.

Me: We don’t, we’re actually separate cognitions of a shared reality.

Alter-Ego: I wish I could separate from you asexually like an amoeba.

Me: Trust me, you’d get bored quick.

[My alter-ego considers this for a moment]

Alter-Ego: You’re probably right.