Cloudy had quite the problem on his hands. It was Sunday, 7:55 P.M PST and a new episode of The Walking Dead was about to air but there was no remote. This would send anyone into a state of panic, but Cloudy kept his cool (Get it? Because average cloud temperature is 3 degrees fahrenheit!). Cloudy pulled out his gun, put on his ski mask, and left his house to steal the remotes of his neighbors.
Gun fully loaded, Cloudy knocked on his neighbor’s door super-duper hard. A tall, strong, well-chiseled man with a tight butt opened the door. He was wearing a pink wife-beater, sunglasses, green beach shorts, and flip-flops. Just your average everyday douchebag.
Cloudy cocked his gun, and shoved the douche aside.
“Where is your television remote!” yelled Cloudy, pointing the gun at a pomeranian dog. The douche pursued Cloudy into his living room to his horror. The life of his puppy was in danger, and he was powerless. But something quite unsettled the douche.
“Yo, bro!” said the douche. “Where the hell are your pants?” Cloudy looked down to discover that his pants were, in fact, not there. Confusion struck Cloudy as hard as Saladman strikes down children. The douche punched Cloudy in his confusion. Cloudy’s piece flew out of his hand and landed by the pomeranian.
The douche suddenly jumped on top of Cloudy in an aggressive way and they started to wrassle. Cloudy, being the macho bruh he is, easily snapped the man’s arm in half and ripped it off with a single hand. It was pretty badass, you should have been there. All of a sudden, the sound of a gun cocking was heard. Cloud and the douche turned to see the gun being held by the pomeranian. The dog didn’t shoot though, as he was confused as which person was his real owner. Kinda like a cliche movie scene where the wife has to shoot either her husband, or the robot that looks like her husband.
“Sprinkles, it’s me!” said the douche. “Your loving master! Remember when I picked you up from the pound, you took a dump on my carpet, and I punted your ass outta my house? We can create more memories like that, if you shoot him! He’s an imposter!”
Cloudy glared at the dog and said a single phrase: “I will neuter you with my teeth.” The gun went off and the douche dropped to the ground, dead. “Excellent choice.” Cloudy then found a television remote to only discover to his horror that the douche used Dish Network instead of Xfinity Comcast like normal people.
Cloudy left the house after taking his gun back from the dog and went to another neighbor. He pressed the doorbell and an old lady greeted Cloudy.
“Yo biatch,” said the old lady. “I’m trying to watch Jersey Shore reruns, what the hell do you want?” The geezer was what the hip children call “swagged out.” She was wearing really tight skinny jeans with hats on each belt loop, stunner shades, a fro comb in her grey afro, and a coconut bra. She was like a female Kanye West, but worse (Which is close to impossible).
Cloudy decided to end her miserable life and shoot her in the face. Stepping over the body, Cloudy entered the premises and looked for the television remote, only to be foiled again. The television was on static! Since Jersey Shore is just as good as static, the old lady probably couldn’t tell the difference.
Cloudy’s patience was running out. He would go to rob one last house of it’s television remote and if he failed, then he would do what every American fears doing: Actually look for the remote.
Cloudy knocked on a door with such force, the door broke off it’s hinges and landed with a great “uw9eahc!” Barack Obama was sitting down watching his second presidential inauguration for the 69th time. Cloudy didn’t want to be an international criminal today, so he just slapped Barack and he was out like a blacklight (get it, because he is black!).
Much to Cloudy’s disappointment, all the president had in that house was a VCR player and a television. There wasn’t even any furniture other than a sleeping bag, which probably wouldn’t count, and a picture of a crying Mitt Romney. Cloudy returned home, full of shame.
Walking back, Cloudy looked up at the sky. The stars were out and he could make out some of the constellations. To attempt cheer himself up, he tried to make a constellation in the shape of male genitalia. He succeeded and made a mental note in his mind to blog about it later.
Cloudy reached his porch and placed his hand on the doorknob. It was locked. Cloudy reached his hand in his underwear to rummage for his keys. He pulled out a few pieces of candy before he felt a familiar object. It felt great in his hands and he realized that he can spend so much time wasting time with it. Retracting his arm out of his undergarments, Cloudy could hardly contain his excitement. The big black Xfinity remote was in his underwear the whole time.
Cloudy then took out his keys, opened his door, turned on the TV, and cried. It was 9:02 P.M PST and he was greeted with the stupid talk show, The Talking Dead. Cloudy would have to wait at least 3 hours before the episode appeared ON Demand. This brought Cloudy to tears and he cried and cried for 9 minutes and 11 seconds. Suddenly, a revelation came to Cloudy.
The Internet exists.
Written and directed by Kingtavone Savang
Produced by: M. Night Shamaylan
CGI Supervisor: Stephanie Meyer
Nicholas Cage as Cloudy