#i have never stepped foot into a sbarro

[cj-isout]

rarepairs, nobody understands you like i do.....

[akitalepu]

In Which Morgan Stark is Pizza Rat

Well, dragging a greasy slice of Sbarro’s cheese pizza down the Big Apple’s slate gray subway steps was not Morgan Stark’s idea of fun.

“Was it anyone’s, though?” Morgan thought wryly, as she dodged sneakers, sharp heels, and—in one instance—bare feet.

Gross.

She fought against the rat’s instinct to drag the greasy morsel to the nearest hides-hole, and focused on trying to find Frigga’s portal back to her world in 2023.

Alright, so shapeshifting wasn’t her strongest suit—hah—Frigga was right. Morgan needed more practice.

Was this her first time shapeshifting? No.

Was this her first time time traveling? Also no.

However, this was Morgan Stark’s first time shapeshifting and time traveling to a completely different universe altogether.

Oh, how Pep would scream at her when she found out. Inevitably, Pepper always found out.

Morgan’s mother hadn’t been exactly thrilled when Queen Frigga had told her Morgan possessed the strong witchy- magical powers Pepper’s maternal line had long held. In fact, Pepper had blanched white, then went a little green, and finally settled with her head i her hands, muttering to herself. (A regular Tuesday for young Morgan.)

Initialky, once Pepper realized that Queen Frigga was not only Thor and Loki’s mother—but also Loki’s mentor—she was dead set against the idea of the Asgardian Queen training her young daughter to control her powers. At that point, Frigga brought out her secret weapon—Asgardian mead.

An hour later, Queen Frigga was officially set to be Morgan’s mentor and Pepper was snoring loudly on the couch. Frigga made Morgan PopTarts for dinner that night.

Morgan had started calling her mother, Pepper Potts Stark, ‘Pep’ as a young teenager, just to annoy her. As a twenty-two (almost twenty-three year) old now, it was her way of showing affection while simultaneously needling her mother...just like he had.

Tony Stark. Ironman. Her Dad.

Dead.

He’d never know it...but the reason she was here, in some godforsaken unknown universe in 2015, desperately trying to haul a slice of pizza three times her rat-body size down a flight of filthy subway stairs...was to save her dad. And the rest of the universe.

No one would ever know, of course, besides her and Frigga, but Morgan was the first domino in the chain of events that would lead the Avengers rectifying Thanos’ Blip.

In her rat form, she’d be the one to scuttle across the hood of the van and activate the control panel, releasing Scott Lang from the Quantum Realm—leading Scott to reveal to the Avengers that they could rectify the Blip Thanos created.

No one would ever know, except Morgan and Frigga. The Queen had made that very clear. They were already walking a tightrope’s edge, playing so much with time travel, fate, and destiny.

But Morgan didn’t mind. It meant that she wouldn’t have to tell her Mom that she was responsible for her dad’s death. And the fact that her mother had to let Tony go, all by herself, watching him die.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Morgan squared her furry little shoulders, and focused on trying to find Frigga’s portal. An errant thought passed her

mind, definitely influenced by the rat instincts to hold onto the slice

and drag it through the portal with her.

“Well, even when I transform back, I could give it to Lucky,” Morgan mused. Lucky was Hawkeye’s garbage-enthusiast golden retriever. “That dog eats anything—AHA!” Morgan hopped down the last few grimy steps. She’d spotted Frigga’s portal, glinting slightly at the foot of the stairs; hidden from normal human eyes, the average passerby would think her just another rat scurrying into the bowels of New York’s subway system.

In her excitement at finally finding the portal, Morgan let go of the pizza slice. With two paws in the portal, she nearly jumped through—but the pizza! Morgan popped up out of the ground again, swiveling her head, looking for the slice. The portal tugged at her tail, and she felt the tell-tale tug of time travel zipping her through time and space to 2023.

In a matter of seconds, she was scurrying across the hood of a dusty van, her tail flicking the switch of the control panel to release Scott Lang from the Quantum Realm.

In a matter of hours, Scott would find his own daughter, safe, and plant the seed for the Time Heist that would return the half of lifE that Thanos stole back to the galaxy.

In a matter of days, In the quiet of his home shop, Tony Stark would figure out the secret to time travel, thus saving the universe.

On that night, Morgan knew (remeberedpredictedregrettedDadDadDaddon’t go) her dad would collapse in shock and disbelief at having solved. They would eat juice pops, and he’d kiss her goodnight, and she’d tell her him she loved him 3000.

A few universes away, unbeknownst to Morgan, the video of her rat self in 2015 would become a huge meme—her journey with the pizza slice would earn her the aptly named title “Pizza Rat.” The video would, in equal parts, entertain millions and simultaneously bring comfort to those who were reminded of the indomitable spirit of New York.

Or maybe people just liked to see rats carrying giant slices of pizza. Morgan didn’t know. But that was ok.

And if she took some time to cry in the same home shop Tony had created all those years ago, and if Lucky the dog brought his pizza to share with her as he comforted her and she wept...well, that was okay, too.

[captain-annoyingbouquetpupp-blog]

hello how are u?

Idon’t know what it’s like to watch someone die suddenly. I can only speak to watching them die slowly. Except it isn’t slowly. It is something else. Time shatters. Skies swallow them. Multiple skies. There is a soundtrack. There is a light show. Different for every death and every loved one left behind. And then there is just you. A miniature version of you that is quietly on fire. You are Polly Pocket. You are Polly Pocket standing in the middle of a tiny, hollow forest fire. This should horrify and anger you, Polly. You live in Death’s pocket. There’s a bed, a kitchenette, a bathroom and a forest fire. It all matches. It’s all bright pink because you are a girl. It’s blue if you’re a boy. Which isn’t fair. None of it is fair. I’m sorry Peter Pocket, I wish we could change colors. I’m sorry Peter, you think you can scream but you can’t. You can’t even talk really. So the fire eats you, like it eats me. It eats me like the cancer ate the bodies of my loved ones. Slowly and then enough. Enough.

Complicated grief “they” call it. “They” equals, “Who the fuck are you?”

Ilove making my therapist laugh. Oops.

She thinks I deserve physical contact. “Hey, leave the jokes to me, Lady!” I zing, but it’s very charming, very charm-zing, “Have you ever read Plotinus?”

Before she can answer, time is up. Okay, I’ll just tuck this therapy receipt into my dead dad’s fanny-pack that I am currently wearing and be on my way.

I only read like a page of Plotinus’ stuff but get this, he was a philosopher who was ashamed of having a body. And right now that just feels so right. Should I date him? The answer is nope. Plotinus was ashamed of having a body because he thought his spirit was too amazing to be contained in a body. I shouldn’t date him because if we were at the food court in the Topanga Mall in 2003 and that John Mayer “Bigger Than My Body” song started playing, he’d be like, “This is me! This is ME!” and I would be mortified in front of the staff and everyone in line at Sbarro. Again. Once is enough, Plotinus. Sbarro me the pain, I’ve Sbarro’d enough.

Plotinus, you and I share the same shame but we are so different. You are like John Mayer and I am not a dick.

I’ve had body shame. Of course I have. As a teenager I was awful to my body. I starved it and binged it and let idiot boys violate it. Even when I got a little better, I still complained about my hot bod for all of my twenties. But I have stumbled upon a new kind of body shame. A deeper shame. I’m ashamed of having a body because it ends. It’s so embarrassing. Your body will end. Yours and mine. I saw it happen to someone I loved so much. Twice. In two years. Back to back. I saw my dad’s body end. I watched it end. Yellow, gaunt, swollen, then gone. Wrapped in a white shroud, carried down my sister’s steps, his feet sticking out of the sheet on the stretcher. They bumped his head on the gate. My sister and I saw it happen. We wanted to tell him that they bumped his head on the gate, but there we were, stuck in the very first moment of never being able to tell him anything.

His body ended at sixty-two. Samantha’s body ended at thirty-seven. My friend. She was beautiful. Striking. She had bones and breasts and liters of blood and then like an epic and shitty magic trick, all of those things disappeared. I watched cancer suck her teeth and then drown her. I watched cancer eat my father’s eyes. I heard him breathe a few hundred cancerous, morphine death sighs and then poof, gone. Watch your head on the gate, Dad. Why didn’t you say, “Ow”? Why didn’t you move your head? Why didn’t you lift your head up and say, “Hey watch the gate, will ya fellas?” to the funeral parlor guys? Oh. Oh. Right.

My dad died in March of 2015. Samantha even helped me grieve. She had lost her father at age fifteen. She was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer in November of 2015. She never smoked. She ran half-marathons. She almost didn’t tell me when she was diagnosed, to protect me from more cancer. I’m lucky she told me because hearts are not really for protecting, they are for getting obliterated. She died October of 2016. But timelines don’t even matter. Grief is like time-travel, except it sucks. Think Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure meets The Diary of Anne Frank. You visit the dead where the drinks have little umbrellas but no taste. You meet them in the Bermuda Triangle — three separate, swirling worlds — their illness, their death, and their life before those two inexcusable mistakes.

Being died on isn’t easy. It’s much worse to be very ill and then die. Duh. I know they had to do the impossible thing. They had to suffer beyond words and squeeze in their last laughs and cast their eternal love spells and sum up their life experience or not sum it up at all and then they had to vanish. But I had to watch, helpless. I have specifics if you want them. I have hundreds of specifics if you want them. They live in me. In my plastic stomach. My formica head. My heart that is bloated with pain. I had to watch them die, slowly. Until it was sudden. Until it was final. And now I just have to be here. I mean I’m lucky to be here but goddamn.

The amount of grief that’s coursed through my body is too much. Death. Divorce. Death. Death. If you acquire too many losses in a short period of time, are you just a loser now? Probably yeah. I don’t have cancer but cancer has gutted me and made me pretty much feral and deranged. Very subtly. Thanks, cancer, you’re a shitbag. For two years cancer has made me say I’m fine because I’m not the one with cancer. Also, in a total dick reverse move, cancer-grief has even made me accidentally torture a cancer patient/survivor with my suffocating, desperate love. The subtext of all of my mistakes: PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE DON’T DIE. Cool! Way to go, Me! Way to ADD some bullshit to a cancer patient’s plate.

Speaking of plates, did you know grief can destroy many parts of you? Did you know that the complications of grief can be delayed? That when a major death occurs, you are often just in shock for the first year? So when everyone forgets about your loss, that’s when it starts to pummel you the hardest? My appetite and digestion are fucked. It’s exhausting. My insides aren’t working right. My insides seize up. Like they used to do when my dad would burst into my room yelling at me. I’d try to fit under my bed. I’d try to get small. Now I can. Now that I am Polly Pocket. When you are Polly Pocket you can disappear a little. You can move the furniture around in Death’s pocket. You can gaze out at the pink flames as you sip your pink lava tea. People will let you disappear if you fight for that. They’re busy. Or more loyal to your ex. Or not thinking about you. Or if they do, if they reach out, you should probably stay home and tend to this fire, Polly.

An unfortunate side effect of trying to become invisible is that you don’t become invisible. It’s very troubling. You can disappear but people can still see you. And boy do they see you. When your body has changed significantly, people often talk about it to your face. I lost 20 pounds from grief. Just grief. No cool healthy diet/exercise thing. Loss of appetite. Trauma-related nausea. Severe constipation with a side of bleeding asshole. HOT. I’m 5 foot 2 inches. I was 128 pounds, now I’m 108 pounds. People notice.

People love it! “Divorce looks great on you.” “You’re in such great shape!” “What are you doing, you look amazing.” “You’re a babe now.” “So good for on-camera work.”

People hate it! “Don’t lose any more weight, you’re too thin.” “Oh my god, I didn’t even recognize you.” “You’re so tiny.” “You look like a young Willem Dafoe.” (Okay, I added the last one.)

I have never felt more exposed. More embarrassed. More at a loss for words. I have to wear my trauma in public. I have to take it with me on stage to my comedy shows. I had to take it to my grandma’s funeral, my dad’s mom. The funeral he skipped because he was too dead to attend. He died March 12th, 2015, she died on September 11th, 2016 (hilarious move to piggy-back onto a national tragedy, Grandma.). But timelines don’t even matter. Think Back to the Future meets Nell meets Weekend At Bernie’s.

[funface2]

Superstore express lane: The 5 best jokes in Season 5, Episode 4 – Hidden Remote

When a local mall closes and teens make Cloud 9 their new hangout, Superstore name-checks TikTok and Euphoria in five of the episode’s best jokes.

What happens when Cloud 9’s biggest competitor shuts down operation? The store becomes the new hot spot for local teens to waste time and spend zero money at after school. As a mall’s closure throws a stampede of new customers at the gang, Superstore touches on a number of topical issues in its latest outing, including the sometimes impossible-to-forecast conditions in consumerism and the trend of turning outrage into viral videos.

While Amy attempts to keep the teens at bay as to not embarrass her daughter, Superstore forces Cheyenne to confront her fading cool factor and teaches Jonah a valuable lesson about gambling. Jonah dabbles in bets and wagers again with good intentions, to help Mateo make ends meet between jobs. But like the teen uprising in Cloud 9, it all comes tumbling down. From memes to movies from the ’90s, here are five of the funniest jokes from the latest episode.

1. “Wait, so you’re telling me I have to go all the way to the airport to get Sbarro’s?”

Amy announces at the morning meeting that the West Concord mall will be closing, and of course the leading concern was how to get your hands on a slice of Sbarro. But Dina and Glenn are ecstatic to have slayed the beast that was the mall, and Amy rejoices in the prospect of increased foot traffic and sales from customers looking for a new place to spend their money. Step one in appealing to the new clientele entails “malling up” Cloud 9 with more free samples, an omnipresent aroma of men’s cologne, and an ear-piercing station.

2. “You want to feel good about yourself, go teach some inner city kids poetry.”

Mateo expresses to Jonah and Garrett his concerns about finding a job that pays under the table but is also up to his standards. But since he’s hard up for cash, has no leads, and won’t accept financial help, Jonah comes up with the idea to give Mateo money via trickery. Jonah, who has a touch of a gambling problem, masterminds a $50 bet about Cher having won a Grammy and another $50 bet about Garrett throwing a ping pong ball into a blender. After Mateo loses both, Jonah goes into a gambling spiral and winds up owing Mateo $400. Hey, he accomplished his goal!

SUPERSTORE — “Mall Closing” Episode 504 — Pictured: (l-r) Isabella Day as Emma, America Ferrera as Amy — (Photo by: Adam Rose/NBC)

3. “Those girls? They look like they’re from Euphoria.”

As it turns out, Amy’s expectation of the new customers doesn’t match reality. Profits haven’t increased because the store has become overrun with teenagers who do nothing but take up space in the dining area, the home section, and the massage chairs in the breezeway. Sandra’s instructed to kick the teenage girls texting out of the massage chairs, but she’s intimidated by their resemblance to the glitter-fied girls from HBO’s Euphoria. Cheyenne offers her assistance, but she’s brutally rebuffed by the teenagers. Bad news for Cheyenne: She’s no longer cool.

4. “I have never met an actual bully in real life. I though they were just from old movies in the 1990s.”

The teenage girls mock Cheyenne’s use of the word “chill” and scoff at everything she says. Unexpectedly, the girls decide to befriend a super-timid/terrified Sandra, which Cheyenne assumes is a textbook case of mean girl-ing. When Cheyenne confronts the girls for making fun of Sandra and becoming her friend out of pity, they flip the script on Cheyenne and accuse her of being the bully. And the Gen Xers claim to have never seen bullying save for in “old” ’90s movies… Maybe they haven’t watched Euphoria.

[embedded content]

Next: Superstore express lane: The 5 best jokes in S5E3

5. “I don’t want to become a meme like that racist BBQ lady with the cool sunglasses.”

Amy’s insistence on letting the teenagers run amok in the store to save face with Emma goes wildly awry. The teens start destroying the store and even waltzing into the employee’s lounge like they own the place. Dina tries to swiftly kick them out, but the teens start recording her and calling her out for age discrimination, not unlike multiple viral videos on Twitter featuring disgruntled customers. They realize to avoid becoming an accidental TikTok star, they have to lean into what Amy does best: helicopter parenting. Too much affection and the teens are gone.

What did you think of the latest episode? Sound off in the comments!

Superstore airs Thursdays at 8/7c on NBC.

Let’s block ads! (Why?)

Source link

Bài viết Superstore express lane: The 5 best jokes in Season 5, Episode 4 – Hidden Remote đã xuất hiện đầu tiên vào ngày Funface.

from Funface https://funface.net/best-jokes/superstore-express-lane-the-5-best-jokes-in-season-5-episode-4-hidden-remote/