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Ice Cream

Ice Cream

“You know, I really fucking love chocolate ice cream.”

“I could eat it all day, literally the kinda appetite that’d put Ether to shame if you put it in front of me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me liking chocolate ice cream, right? In fact, it’s harmless.”

“Now, imagine if when I said that, some dude walked up to me with his scoop of vanilla and slapped the chocolate out of my hand.”

“Just laid into me for an hour about how liking that flavor of ice cream, how being different than them, meant that I was a bad person.”

“How dare I like chocolate ice cream? Why can’t I be normal and just eat vanilla like the rest of them?”

“You would think they sound pretty fucking crazy, right? Like, downright Luke Storm movie levels of nonsensical and fucking stupid.”

“Well, what if I told you that people like that actually exist?”

“And they’re living among us right now.”

“Their names are Vayikra, and those weirdos have been hounding me about my choices in ice cream since I fucking got to OSW, man.”

“Walking up to me with their bible, just a big fucking scoop of vanilla bullshit in a flavorless cone that they shove into my face, their religion getting all over my face and up in my hair.”

“They want me to pound that shit like it was the tastiest thing ever and they won’t take no for an answer, huh?”

“But the thing with their flavor? It’s not for me.”

“They love how it tastes, how it feels, and the way it goes down their throats oh so smoothly.”

“And if you don’t want the scoops they’re handing out then they’re gonna force it down your throat until either you learn to enjoy it or you pass out with a hell of an ice cream head ache.”

“Now, the thing is though? I don’t wanna sit back and let Vayikra ruin my favorite flavor. It seems like every time I get a fresh scoop they have to barge in and call me disgusting, call me an abomination because I know what I love. I’d rather fucking die than give up my chocolate ice cream, just fucking kill over before I got rid of the syrup, sprinkles, and whip cream.”

“But y’all just won’t let it go, huh?”

“You see me wolfing it down and it disgusts you, makes you wanna vomit.”

“Well tell you what. At Heatwave I’m gonna give you fucks a taste of your own medicine because I’m coming down to that ring just hauling pints of chocolate, man. I’m gonna force you to open up and take a big faggoty scoop of Tag’s favorite flavor.”

“Maybe you get a lil taste and you’ll see things my way.”

“Maybe you’ll bitch and moan that it’s too strong for your good Christian palates.”

“But the only thing I can tell you for sure? I ain’t eating what you’re serving.”

“So sit back, relax, and take my chocolate syrup all over your face.”

“Get ready to get sticky.”

“Because you’re gonna get tagged and bagged.”