Hello everyone, and welcome back to Dialogue with Cristobal Martinez!

Well, they're back! The three comedy of errors-loving pieces of bacon, bald and angry, are back! And this time, they're provoking me with a good time.

Just recently, I was walking up the stairs with two boxes of soda on one arm, and bags on the other. I was unwinding and guess what happens? Yeah, the Pepsi slipped and fell hard on the floor.

Although there was no mess, the sitcom gods have shown to be getting much more desperate for a laughs to the point of trying to get me in trouble. They're so stupid. They should've known that once they make their comedy of error gag, because that's less of a sitcom thing for the sitcom gods to do, my imaginary viewers will get uncomfortable at me having a meltdown, congratulations to their stupidity.

Three deities who are anything but their assigned theme get bored, and act like this when they are bored:

All while tearing the skin out of their heads, and screaming at the show's protagonist to be interesting and funny (and by funny, they mean tortured and miserable), that's the sitcom gods's personal choice. Couldn't be me. My misery is NOT funny.

Sitcom gods, I wish you never found my TV show of a life to vandalize, and I wish you never existed. I'm sorry, sitcom gods, but you dared me, right? You ethically abusive turds.

Maybe next time, once this article is posted, the sitcom gods should give up threatening me with a good time, instead of their souls. Why else are they keeping going on?

That's it for Dialogue with Cristobal Martinez. Thank you so much for reading, and I'll catch you guys in the next one. Later!