In the distant future....
In a rundown hospital in Richmond Virginia, Substance abuse treatment wing.
The hospital room is dirty and full of discarded fast food containers and empty liqour bottles. In the corner there is a small shrine dedicated towards an Irishman, saint patrick perhaps?
In the middle of the room is a hospital bed and upon that hospital bed there is a ghastly sight. A midget not taller then 5´1 and round as a ball, pale and sickly. Looking like hes not long for this world. All manner of tubes and machines is attached to him, keeping him alive but barely. His breathing is labored and all over the place. But even though he looks like hes about to loose his last fight hes still with a fervent passion clutching a small wooden box. The box is quite old, weathered and has "woodford reserve, R.R" stamped on it.
Next to him in a metal chair that looks like its just about to fail from the heavy burden its carrying is a creature most people would identify as an average Reddit moderator. Long disheveled hair and fat, Dressed in all dapper green with a mask in his pocket. The visitor is holding a smartphone and he is browsing r/4chan. All of a sudden a greentext makes him snicker.
Slowly the sick man opens his eyes and with a lot of effort turns his head towards the sound.
-G.. a... gator?
-Its me! Oh friend people have been in my dms all day. This time i thought you woulnd´t comeback You have been out for so long. I.. i... thought i had lost you forever. a solitary tear runs down his face. The doctor told me that this time you wouldn´t wake up. the visitor begins sobbing
-Im in a lot of pain Gator... I... i need you to.. i need you to.. come... come closer
The vistor with some amount of force dislodges his butt from the chair and shovels closer right next to the dying man. Putting his hands on the yellow bedsheets gripping the fabric.
-I would do anything for you and i mean anything. You name it pal!
Hands trembling, the man marked by the reaper gives gator a box. Gators hands moves towards the brass lock. Flipping it open and inside are three things. A 1911 handgun, with a confederate flag camo, a picture of a blond girl and a bottle of makers mark.
-That gun was my fathers... It was the only thing he left for me, after he moved to canada. I wanna do him proud.
I have spent my whole life running gator. I don´t wanna run anymore.
Take the gun Gator. I can´t take this anymore, the pain is never ending! One... one last time gator, i need you t.. to pla.. pull the trigger gator, the sick man now sobbing, tears streaming down his face
-I can´t.... i can´t do it dont force me to chose between my loyalty or the continuation of the only thing i have ever been proud of! Your my best pal Ethan i... i dont wanna be alone....
-Gator you will never be alone as long as you have this, Ralph says pointing towards the bottle. It has served me well. It never leaves you and it never complains. I wanna give you one last gift. A small laugh exits the dying man it sounds similar to a dolphin.
-What.. what... is it? stammers the man dressed in green clutching the gun between his sausage fingers.
you have my blessing to take the offer... you can become cohost of this week in nectar. I need you to become your own man gator. I need you to become the oldfag.
Im at peace and the last thing i need before i go... Is the reassurance that TRR dies with me and that the people i care about get what they need. I want all of the lemons to go towards my exwife and girlfriends daughters. Gator it has been an honor to have you not as my slave boy but as my lover. Now do it...
Gator raises the gun. Hes at this point shaking uncontrollably. He steadies himself and whisper goodbye : ethan
*Bang*