Ethan Klein is not doing so well.
Based on a true story
I was walking around LA earlier this afternoon.
It was a nice and sunny day to feed the addicts down on Skid Row. I like to buy a loaf of bread, rip it into chunks and throw it into the puddles of water. I laugh as they fight and squawk over food. Hah, feels good to be on top of the food chain.
D-grade Star struck
I’m walking down the road to my rental car and I see a man I think I recognize. To my surprise it’s Ethan Klein and he’s not doing so good.
First, I don’t see Hila, that’s a bad sign. She is surely looking unattractive while not standing next to her goblin husband, Ethan.
Second, his breath is terrible. Third, he’s going on and on how he really really needs bus fare.
I said “Ethan, where is your marginally attractive soldier bride?”
Ethan looked at the street and kicked a pebble. He didn’t want to talk about it. His face broke out in an even more angry scowl than the one he usually wears.
“Soldier? She is a princess. My wonderful princess.” he whines as he takes a nip from a flask.
A flask he assures me is Dr. Pepper he stole from Papa Johns. JUST LIKE HIS CATCHPHRASE! GET IT?!
Disheveled to say the least
It was a little hard to take him seriously. His sweatpants kept falling down and they were stained with some unknown liquid. When I asked him about it he blamed UFOs.
Fun fact: Aliens have been known to teleport themselves into fighter planes and pee on the upholstery.
Who knows what went down in between there and now?
Don’t cry, Ethan
He sat on the curb holding his head. That doesn’t seem to help. Everything came back to him, again and again. He gripped his YouTube plaque firmly in his hands, mumbling something about subscribing if I like it.
He stumbled away from me, eyes lowered and grimacing madly. At first I thought he had forgotten his livelihood as he wrapped his lips around another nip of the flask.
He stopped and took off running. I got in my car and followed him. He was fast.
It all happened in Chinatown
He was at an underground lemur fight in Chinatown. The same Chinatown as seen in Big Trouble in Little China.
I couldn’t believe all the kung fu happening in the streets but Ethan was transfixed on the lemurs. My guess is he had big money on Ringtail Joe, the lemur with one eye and muscles like Mr. Universe.
I tried to get a picture but Ethan grabbed my phone and deleted the picture. The first sober moment he had since I found him on the street.
He started yelling at me.
“You moron! How am I going to get Hila back if she finds out I’m gambling our money away?” Ethan screamed in a hush into my ear, his breath stinging my nostrils.
I backed away and said “Woah dude, halitosis much?” and shoved him.
Hila came out of no where and put me in a sleeper hold and said she’d slit my throat like a Palestinian child.
I began to cry, mascara running down my face. Ethan was watching the whole thing take place, absent from the situation only to observe as he stuffed folded pizza slices into his mouth while trying to hide his erection. I can still smell the Papa Johns garlic sauce dripping down his chin.
Rude awakenings
When I woke up I found myself subscribed to H3H3 and there was nothing I could do. It wasn’t that I was scared, too chicken, or too old for all of that new media junk but the content felt so boring I threw my phone into the river, abandoning YouTube and influencers once and for all.
As for Ethan and Hila, I know they are out there, waiting to strike at the first person who clicks unsubscribe.
After all who pays for their lavish lifestyle to keep the missing smiles on their faces?
P.S. Please send body guards to help me with my problem.
