In revenge I recite the entire plot of Matrix: Revolutions at you.
In revenge I invent time travel. I entice you onto my time machine with a sandwich. I travel back to Tuesday, October 11th, 1871, which coincidentally is the day following the Great Chicago Fire, or is that not so coincidentally? I entice you off the time machine with another sandwich. “This guy right here! He left the oven on even though I always warn him not to,” I yell. You look down. I have super-glued a singed oven mitt to your hand. Good luck with that, I whisper as I press the time travel button again.
In revenge I de-alphabetize your albums.
In revenge I speak only in Latin for a year.
In revenge I have cancelled Mad Men.
In revenge Facebook is now Myspace again.
In revenge I invent a new instant messaging acronym. SOTFJYI. It means “spinning on the floor, jaded yet indecisive.” Inexplicably, it catches on. Now you have to deal with people using it all the time.
In revenge I text.
In revenge I discover an 11th planet and name it after the girl that I dated before you.
In revenge kittens no longer exist. Deal with it.
In revenge from Hell’s heart I stab at thee.
In revenge I whistle.
In revenge I have done a secret thing that you don’t know about.
In revenge I founded the Tea Party.
In revenge sdrawkcab kaeps ylno I.
In revenge nothing.
In revenge I namest thou “hipster.”
There are many, many insidious, intricate ways that I will get back at you, some of which have been years in the making, some of which will not take effect for many more years, some of which you can only begin to imagine, each of which is more surprising and alarming than the last, but until those take effect I’m just going to eat all your food from the refrigerator.
In revenge there are three more Star Wars prequels.
I dump a bucket of cold water on your sleeping chest. “Obama was a dream! McCain died of old age-ness! Sarah Palin has drafted you for war against Wyoming which she forgot is a state!” Once you’re fully awake, you’re even more pissed off. And damp. Slightly damp.
In revenge I invent a time machine again. I wait for you outside the bookstore. You are eleven. You have purchased Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, or Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone if you’re English. As you emerge, I point upwards, saying “Jesus what the hell is that.” Just then, my team of trained skywriters springs into action. ‘S-N-A-P-E K-I-L-L-S D-U-M-B-L-E-D-O-R-E” says the sky.
In revenge your haircut is no longer trendy.
In revenge I crossbreed narwhals and otters. Narotters. They’re adorable. Just baby otters with little horns. I never let you see or touch one.
In revenge a dumb idiot says what?
In revenge I explain to you about Skrillex.
In revenge skinny jeans just keep on getting skinnier until they are needle-thin, until they have no dimensions left, until they violate all laws of space and time. Then the universe collapses in on itself in a wormhole and we all die, die, f-cking die.
In revenge I make you read all my articles.
In revenge I make you read this one. You don’t think it’s about you. “…It’s all about you,” I whisper when you’re done. You are slightly creeped out. Then I give you an Indian burn.