First of all, its name is Jeremy. And second, I don’t care if it can literally melt my skin while asphyxiating me to death if I stand too close to it. This bubbling vat of industrial acid is my soul mate.
Never you mind what all those chemical burns on my arms are from! Sometimes love hurts!
I know how this probably looks: it’s a noxious tub of volatile chemicals, I’m a part-time art student — we come from different worlds. But when we’re alone together and I remove the protective mylar cover that keeps all of the acid inside the vat, it just makes my heart melt.
Then I start to get really itchy and overheat, and then my eyes start to water and my tongue swells to the size of a Nerf football until I am incapable of controlling my rectum. After that, my heart actually does start melting.
It is not attempted murder! The vat loves me!
It understands my needs and my desires more than anyone I’ve ever known. Just because it’s not a traditional relationship, you feel entitled to slap labels on it like “toxic” and “carcinogenic.” Also, that actual bio-hazard label on the side of the vat. So judgmental.
Why don’t you just leave us alone? It’s my relationship, so I don’t really see why it’s any of your business in the first place. Yes, I know that vat is leaking now, but that’s none of your business either. Jeremy is still just figuring itself out. You act like you’ve never had any caustic sludge seep out of you before, hypocrite.
I just can’t take your negative energy anymore, it’s making me lightheaded and blurring my vision for some reason. Just leave already. I need to take a quick neutralizing chemical shower again.
And when we get married and have kids someday, don’t expect to get a call to be godparent to Vatty and Jeremy Jr.