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Humor

This Week In Weird Twitter, Volume 109

By: Rich Cromwell
9 min read

So you’re an escaped hologram and you have a capybara.

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Rich Cromwell
@rcromwell4
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Shifting on his pedestal, the vague apparition tried to ascertain his boundaries. He couldn’t exactly remember how he’d ended up there, but he was sure it had something to do with Agamemnon. Most forget about the hero’s dalliances with dark magic and a time machine. Even Wikipedia excludes this facet in its history of the hologram.

Ralph wasn’t destined to remain thusly trapped, even though he pronounced it r-ā-f. He was instead destined for that fateful day when he got hit with a power surge. Upon receiving that blast, he drifted in and out of here and there, always bordering between reality and vague apparition, but drifting more towards reality. He was like Pinocchio, I guess.

And he knew he existed; like Pinocchio, he was certain of it. If only there were obvious moves to solidify his obvious solidity. Then, he discovered that such solidifying moves were out there, waiting, watching. Ralph laid back and grooved, his capybara Anastasia at his side.


No, this is a literal capybara. It’s not without its charms, though.


Fortunately, it stopped short of this.


Maybe.


For though he had just materialized, Ralph knew he had a purpose.


He was loose, out there in a wild world, but one with so many happy trees. All of them watching, waiting.


The getaway routes didn’t offer much better.


Plus, there were so many eyes, watching, waiting.


Ralph found a hill upon which to stand, and spoke.


One member of the audience misunderstood and stormed out, misunderstandingly.


Ralph quickly corrected him.


And continued to explain.


Though not without qualifications.


Not just because of this.


This added a dose of authenticity.


Ralph decided to end his talk and head out. He wasn’t prepared for what he stumbled into, literally. He apologized for intruding and moved on.


Okay, maybe his apology was lacking in authenticity. Regardless.


Anastasia was confused but intrigued.


Also, Ralph wasn’t great at multitasking.


But he was properly outfitted.


And prepared for any situation.


Any. Situation.


But I repeat myself.


Ralph got out his tools. He could rebuild himself better, faster, stronger.


Though he tired quickly.


That’s when he found himself sitting in a minivan, noticing the, umm, din surrounding him.


He wondered if he was in a Van Halen video. David Lee Roth era for those who think that implies a question.


The ‘80s were an era of unlimited possibility.


Ralph experienced a weird feeling. Was it hunger?


Or was it an opportunity for self-reliance?


In any case, Ralph wasn’t having any Facebook nonsense.


Well, maybe a little nonsense.


Plus, a time machine!


And some sound financial advice.


Okay, where were we?


Oh yeah, we were plotting.


But also keeping it real.


Accepting our limitations.


Asking the tough questions.


But remembering the lessons that Ralph taught us.


And fighting off interlocutors.


Not always successfully.


The audience, always with an opinion, though not always a welcome one.


Ralph had a strategy for responding to their silence.


It involved tactical gear.


Also, the worst fortune cookie ever.


I mean.


Though it wasn’t totally bereft of ideas. Ralph did find some inspiration.


And he had some laurels to rest upon.


There were also blemishes.


Mostly, though, there was strategery.


Thus, Ralph arrived at the end of his day.


Spinning around to face, well, no one, Ralph nonetheless began pontificating. He was due, having emerged from the confines of a holographic prison, as it were.

He ruminated upon his escape and his subsequent non-adventures, save for the capybara sidekick, Anastasia. Anastasia, though, hadn’t really added much to the escapades. One expects more from such a sidekick. Nonetheless, she was a capybara, and that counted for something.

Also, she offered a solemn promise. It was a good one. Mostly.

Richard Cromwell is a writer and senior contributor at The Federalist. He lives in Northwest Arkansas with his wife, three daughters, and two crazy dogs. Co-host of the podcast Coffee & Cochon, you can find him on Facebook and Twitter, though you should probably avoid using social media.

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