Today’s post was inspired by a Sparkler who wrote the following comment under a recently published article: “Wait, really? This was front-paged for…what reason? Protip: next time you wanna post a little joke joke Chelsea [Dagger], alt+f4 gives max funniness instantly. Try it a few times.”
We did try alt+F4, and we found, rather anticlimactically, that it simply closes whatever document we’re working on (after politely asking if we’d like to save our changes). We were simultaneously heartbroken and….well…confused. So after we scraped our self-esteem off the floor with a greased-up spatula, we devised an ingenious way to ensure that no insult ever left us baffled again. Here you have it: a list of ways to creatively destroy the ego of any SparkLife writer within a 50-mile radius. Next time you mock us, you’ve got a blueprint—and don’t worry, we test-drove these suckers on each other. Being bad has never felt so good.
1. Start with a good old-fashioned taunt. For guaranteed believability, be sure to stumble a little in the beginning, then build up confidence, eloquence, and hostility as you go.Try something colorful and needlessly verbose, like “Hey, you! Yeah, you, with the, uh, the pants! Yep, you heard me, pant-wearer! HA! I hate your writing so much that I..uh…I want to do something terrible to it! In fact, yeah, I know, I want to throw it away! Oh yeah, I said it! And then erase it! HaHA! And then take that erased garbage and kick the trash can that it’s in, hard! Down something big! And steep! Steep for sure! Like a hill! Yeah! Yeah, that’s right! Heatin’ up! And then light that hill on FIRE!”
You get the gist of things. And remember, if you’re flailing, it never hurts to end with a concise and well-timed “EAT IT.”
2. Toss around some dirty, locker-room “Yo Momma” jokes. Not sure where to begin? How about here: “Yo momma was clearly not married to William Faulkner, because if she had been, and you had resulted from the consummation of that marriage, you most likely would have at least partially inherited Faulkner’s way with words. Clearly, you have not.” BURN.
3. Take a cue from Draco Malfoy and get deeply, unforgivably personal. Forgo legitimate, easily substantiated attacks on our writing skillz and hit us where it really hurts—our bank accounts and our hair color. Here are a few Malfoy gems worth re-using:
“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”
“Longbottom, if brains were gold, you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.”
4. Use a surefire stunner guaranteed to put any writer on the ground. Compare her writing chops to those of Stephenie Meyer.
5. Watch and learn, compadres. Probably the most epic insult war of all time takes place in this scene from Hook. One day, if you work hard enough, you might just convert a bunch of adorable, pseudo-sociopathic, rag-tag adolescents into your own personal vanguard and get to have the food fight of the century with neon play-dough. The only word to describe that kind of success? BANG-A-RANG.
What’s the best insult you can come up with for Chelsea Dagger?