it’s thursday night. the date is september 25th, 2019. your favorite tv show, it’s always sunny in philadelphia, is airing its s14 premiere tonight at 10. you’re not exactly sure what to expect; all you can think about is that picture of mac and dennis sharing the same bed with the caption “season 14 is getting weird” and you can’t help but feel that betraying sense of hope. you remind yourself that rcg has been baiting you for years, and that this is probably apart of their evil ploy to keep you in the circle of hell you’ve been stuck in for the past 14 years. with a deep sigh, you shove down the infuriating hope in your chest and prepare for the worst.
as the episode begins to play, your barrier against rcg’s queerbaiting begins to falter. your mind is haunted by phrases like “we can’t stop now, we’re right on track!” “a gay, gay ass, love story” and “guess we’re not getting that romantic comedy ending after all.” the word “act” has taken on a completely new meaning for you. what is act three? what is the meaning of one year? you are trembling at this point, shaking your fist at the screen like an old man at the hooligans on his lawn. what does it mean? what does it all goddamn mean?
sadly, you never get your answer because there is no act three. for the 14th season in a row, you apply your full face of clown make-up, smeared with the tears of having been bested by rcg for yet another season. maybe next year, you tell yourself, smiling with that familiar, comforting delusion. somehow, you believe yourself, even after all this time. yeah. next year.
bringing this back for s17 like i quite literally cannot do this shit anymore